by S A Shaffer
The man in the shadows looked at Mercy for a long time, then shifted his gaze. “Bethany, you’re his assistant. What have you been able to glean about him?”
“Nothing. He never allows me to do anything more than make tea. I’ve made it wrong for the past three weeks out of spite.”
“What if you switched your affections toward him?” the man asked. “Could you get him to talk?”
“Ha!” Bethany said. “There is only one woman in his eyes. I think he’s wholly smitten with this one.” She pointed toward Mercy, who flushed and looked away.
“Is this true?” the man asked.
When Mercy looked up, the man was staring at her with his piercing eyes. “Yes,” she said, before looking at her knees.
“Then seduce him,” the man said. “Get him to trust you and then—”
“Now you wait one minute!” Mercy said, feeling her flush spreading down her neck as she pointed a finger at the man. “I might be a political spy, but I have my limits.”
“Relax. The boy is an invalid,” the man said. “He won’t touch you, and if he does, he’s hardly a threat.”
Mercy huffed and put her hands on her hips. “What do you expect me to do? Go to his house and perform a dance club routine?”
The man shrugged. “I expect you to talk to him, and nothing more. Encourage him, smile at him, confide in him. A woman has many wiles that don’t involve the physical. If he already likes you, he’ll be putty in your hands.”
Mercy cringed and looked down again. “He didn’t ask for this, you know—none of it. He’s just unfortunate enough to be on the other side of the aisle.”
“Need I remind you of the consequences for us and our loved ones if we fail?” the man asked, his voice a little more firm.
Mercy took a deep breath. “You need not. I know better than most.”
The man went on, “We don’t have the luxury of feelings. Time is running out. Our window of opportunity is shrinking with each day. All of us will be stepping outside the original job parameters before the end. However, I am still not convinced that Blythe is no longer our main target. We will proceed as scheduled for the pleasure cruise with Don Johnson. If all goes according to plan, we might be able to put this entire matter behind us a few weeks hence.”
The meeting ended, and Mercy’s chest ached as she left the dingy room and climbed back into her skiff. It might have been her imagination, but it seemed drearier now than when she’d arrived. When she took this job, she’d imagined herself swindling some wretched politician, not a hardworking young man. David was sincere, and sweet, and innocent, and … kind. What was she? Deceptive, conniving, subversive, and now she had to add seductive. Who was she becoming? Where would this path lead? How far would she go to save the ones she loved?
THE MAW
In the far northern corner of Alönia, where the dunelands of House Floyd met the foothills of the Rorand Mountains, lay the Maw, the mouth of Northern Desert. Miles and miles of sand and dust covered the vast, unnegotiable plain. It was said that by the time the clouds passed over the Alönian lands, they had no rain left for the desert. Truthfully the ocean winds and the high mountains held the clouds back. Not a drop of their life-bringing vapor ever touched the barren lands of the north. No airship had ever crossed the sands, though many had tried. Rumor had it that the desert went on forever or until the land dropped away into empty space. However, it wasn’t the heat, or the aridness, or the vast size of the desert that created fear in the hearts of all who knew it. The desert drove men mad. Any airship crew that sailed the sandy seas too long never returned the same. Their minds broke in that lifeless place. Some believed ghosts roamed the sands and possessed any who ventured there. Though, more reasonable minds knew it was a combination of heat, thirst, and overexposure to sunlight.
For these reasons and more, the Northern Desert presented a perfect hideout for Outlanders, criminals, and outcasts from the civilized sections of the Fertile Plains. Criminal overlords divided up the different sections of the sands into their own little kingdoms, harassing the borderlands and snatching up shipping vessels. At least that was what it had been like half a decade ago. There hadn’t been an Outlander attack for cycles now. Military intelligence believed the overlords had killed each other off in a great war over territory. While the Outlanders were seemingly gone, the thrill of visiting the Maw and gazing into the hostile territory still drew a good many tourists.
That same thrill had induced Johnson to invite Blythe and his aides to join him for lunch on his yacht, The Reverie. The little party met on the docks of the Capital Airship Landings at 9:00 a.m. The sun made a rare appearance, shining like a beacon through the parting clouds, an occurrence that Johnson believed a good omen—however, not nearly as good of an omen as Johnson’s airship. David gasped as the rotund man led him, Mercy, and Mr. Blythe toward the most beautiful airship at the Landings. Mrs. Blythe had opted not to come, recent events being what they were.
“That’s a Sunbeam,” David said to Mercy as they approached.
She looked radiant in her red sailing dress, with her hair in a ponytail beneath a captain’s hat. David noticed some tights poking out from under her ruffling dress. Clearly she took precautions this time in anticipation of the wind.
“Is that supposed to mean something?” Mercy asked, head cocked with a half smile.
“Rather! That’s one of the most expensive airships you can buy,” David said, but he had a hard time rolling his eyes at such a beautiful face. It came off more like a spasm.
Mercy giggled behind a hand. “You need to work on your sarcastic face. I’m having a hard time believing it.”
“Hey, my sarcastic face works on everybody else. Maybe you’re the one with a problem.” David tried to roll his eyes again; it didn’t work.
As they got closer to the Sunbeam, David’s mouth almost watered over the magnificent vessel. Sunbeam was the first Alönian company to implement an internal balloon. The center of the ship consisted of one sectioned cylinder filled with buoyancy gas, though it remained invisible from the outside of the ship. Supposedly the sectioned balloon allowed the captain to shift buoyancy to counteract an imbalanced load. If all the pleasure cruisers wanted to dance beneath the stars in the glass observatory at the front of the ship, that could happen on a completely level deck. From the outside the 150-foot airship looked like a sailboat out of water, constructed of brass, glass, and wood planking—actually, David knew it was polymer made to look like wood. One massive deck extended the entire length of the ship’s top deck, a strange mix between old-fashioned and modern with its planking and brass railing. The control tower poked a fathom above the rest of the deck, where the captain leaned against the wheel in anticipation of liftoff. The ship’s three decks encased the internal balloon. The middle one wrapped around the outside, glass windows sealing it from the elements. The bottom deck had small porthole windows, hiding all the intricate machinery that propelled the magnificent ship: two burners, three generators, and a variety of gears, turbines, and cooling vents. The iconic prow of the vessel provided Sunbeams with their name. The entire front of the ship was one massive glass cone, all three decks conjoining into one observatory. The glass glinted in the sun, making the ship look like a ray of sunshine as it sailed through the air. Said observatory included one of David’s favorite features: a glass floor, which he hoped wouldn’t bother him like Mr. Blythe’s window-floor did. David hoped they would have lunch on the open-air top deck and not in the observatory. It would be a shame to make a mess in such a magnificent ship.
David couldn’t wait to see the turbofans in action. The huge disks were currently folded against the ship’s sides, allowing it to dock, but once airborne they would lift out like great cylindrical wings. Their gyroscopic mobility made the Sunbeam the most maneuverable ship in the air despite its size. Once close enough, David ran to the railing of the dock and looked over the edge. The folded disks covered a full third of the ship’s length, spanning across a
ll three decks. David looked below the fans and saw the keel resting against the landing like a giant fin. It made the ship almost as tall as it was long. The keel’s front side had a wicked serrated edge, and its back one enormous rudder, reaching the entire height of the ship and adding yet another degree of maneuverability.
She was a gorgeous vessel, the most beautiful David had ever seen.
Mercy joined him at the railing. “If eyes could steal, you’d be a thief,” she said.
“Do you think I could fit it in my pocket?”
“No.” Mercy smiled as she looped her arm through his and steered him toward the gangplank.
As David tore his eyes away from the gilded vessel, he happened upon something absolutely hideous: Devin stood on the deck welcoming Blythe and Johnson aboard. David could already see the pervert’s eyes roving over Mercy. As he and Mercy walked up the gangplank, David was sure to always keep himself between Devin and Mercy. He gave Devin a polite nod, extending his metal arm to shake hands and then squeezing hard enough to make the bodyguard’s eyes wince.
As David stepped onto the top deck, he realized why Sunbeams were so coveted as pleasure yachts. Built-in loungers lay intermittent with wet bars and a full-sized shuffleboard court. Waiters and waitresses meandered across the deck in matching white sailor uniforms serving refreshments. A circular staircase reached through the floor at both bow and stern.
David heard a bell ring and realized they were already shoving off from the Landings. He wanted with all his heart to run to the railing and watch the famed turbofans engage, but he was caught between watching a wonder of machinery and leaving Mercy alone with Devin on the prowl.
Mercy saved him the discomfort: “Come on. You’re going to miss the fans unfurl.”
He smiled as she tugged him over to the railing, and together they watched as the massive disks lifted away from the ship’s sides and whirred to life. A breeze blew across the deck, and the ship gained speed. The captain was brilliant, maintaining constant lift and acceleration so that the passengers could move about with ease, hardly even knowing the ship was in motion. True, it only utilized a tiny part of the ship’s capability, but it was enthralling all the same.
Mercy laughed and David looked up to see her smiling at his fascination.
“What?” he asked.
“You look like a child on his first day of school,” she said as she guided him back toward the others, who were chatting around the wet bar.
Truth be told, that was exactly how he felt.
“So, Mr. Ike, your Mr. Blythe here tells me you live next to my new pharmaceutical plant,” Johnson said as David and Mercy joined them. “How does she look?”
“Better and better every day,” David said. “The original facility was always something impressive; it just needed a good cleaning. But the new additions and modernizations will make your new headquarters the epicenter of the Third.”
“That’s exactly what I wanted to hear,” Johnson said, his jowls jiggling as he nodded.
A waitress walked by with a platter of raw sky fish fillet over grasswheat wafers and offered them to the little gathering. Johnson sucked in his breath and took the whole platter from her arms right as Blythe reached for one of the hors d’oeuvres. Johnson slipped one after another into his mouth, barely taking the time to chew while smacking his lips and moaning with pleasure. David thought he might be sick.
“Let me show you around the ship,” Johnson said after emptying half the platter.
He turned and waddled his enormous body toward the circular stairs at the front of the airship. The group followed Johnson down the stairs, which ended at the glass observatory.
David felt a trickle of sweat run down his back as he stepped onto the glass floor. The airship was flying over water now, and would be for the next two hours. After that they’d sail for an hour and a half across farmlands until they reached the Maw, excellent time for an airship. He gulped when he saw a luncheon set up in the middle of the glass observatory. Johnson was prattling on about what they had planned for lunch when Mercy elbowed David and motioned toward a hallway. She tugged his arm and together they slipped out of the unsettling room onto the second level of the airship, which was like a circular track wrapping around the whole ship: one side glass windows, the other smooth paneling. It was a splendid view: clear blue sky and green-blue ocean divided by the hazy mountain cliffs.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Mercy said.
David looked at her and nodded, but he wasn’t quite sure if he meant the view of the beautiful girl or the beautiful mountains. “I’ve never seen anything like it. Most of my sailing took place over land.”
“Oh, have you sailed much?”
“Some, though not for a long time. My father wanted me to join the armada, so he had me practice with our family’s yacht.”
“I should like to meet him sometime.”
“Well, I’m sure he would have loved to meet you too, but he died on our last airship voyage.”
“Oh. I’m so sorry.” Mercy looked down, seemingly embarrassed.
“It’s okay. I love flying. Doctors said I’d come to hate it because that’s how my dad died, but every time I’m in the clouds, it feels like I’m closer to him somehow. Flying is what he loved to do, and it’s what he wanted me to love too.”
“He’d be proud of you, even if you aren’t in the armada.”
David smiled. “I hope so. I’ve done the best I could. I know he’d be happy about that.”
They walked for a while circling the ship and chatting on about this and that, pausing here and there to admire the view—sweet nothings really. In fact they walked and talked for so long that David barely even noticed the scenery change from ocean to farmland. The hills of House Floyd rolled by, their irrigated land looking like giant splotches of blue and green paint. David was shocked when a sweet waitress excused her interruption and announced that, presently, lunch would be served in the observatory.
David and Mercy took their seats, the other passengers hardly even knowing they had left, all save Devin, who eyed them suspiciously. The party of five sat around the small white table as a team of servers twice that size brought platters of food, replaced platters of food, and refilled drinks. David could hardly take a bite of something before another delicacy miraculously appeared on his plate—rare fruits from Viörn, exotic meats from Berg, and giant squid caught by fisherman who braved the Southern Ocean storms. Having Mercy beside him made David forget about the three inches of clear glass separating him from death. Plus he was a bit preoccupied keeping an eye on Devin, who was keeping his eyes on Mercy.
The food was stupendous, but to David, perhaps a bit much. Life had taught him that food was nothing more than sustenance—anything more than that and it became a vice. He looked at Johnson and shuddered.
Conversation centered upon the increased sales of Public Pharmaceuticals’ latest adolescent behavior-correction drug. It was evidently a sensation amongst dual-working household in the big cities. David didn’t care much for the topic, but he had little excuse to leave until a bell chimed and the captain announced over the loudspeaker that they were approaching the Maw.
While the rest of the table stood and walked toward the front of the glass observatory, David grabbed Mercy’s arm and said, “I want to see it from the top deck.”
She nodded, and the two climbed the circular stairs.
“Why do you want to see it from here?” Mercy asked as they reached the top of the stairs. “It’s just as good of a view in the observatory.”
“I’m not a fan of standing on glass, if you hadn’t noticed,” David said even as he winced. “Plus it just doesn’t feel real unless the wind is blowing through my hair.”
Mercy laughed as they rushed to the front of the ship and looked over the glass observatory from the top deck.
The Rorand Mountains rose up on the right, extending all the way back to the sea, their peaks lost in the sky. On their left, hills and farmland dissipated
into desert and dust. In between the two lay a grassy plain that faded from green to brown to barren. Dozens of dust devils churned in the air, welcoming all who dared to enter the wastelands. Even as David watched, dry lightning arced out of sandy skies and scorched an unfortunate tuft of grass. This unique piece of landscape marked an area where three distinct climates abutted each other, battling over a worthless patch of dirt. It was intimidating to behold and would have been ten times worse a decade earlier when Outlanders frequented the Maw, snatching up any ship that ventured too close. However, the Outlanders’ legacy grew more visible the closer they got to the desert. Airship wreckage littered the plain from a hundred different battles over the past few centuries. Rib cages of mining vessels—large enough for the Sunbeam to maneuver within—lay strewn around from back when Alönia sought minerals in the Rorand Mountains. Those same mining vessels were the reason Outlanders had started roaming these regions.
Originally six different mining companies had divided up the Rorand Mountains into six different regions. Great cities grew out of the profitable venture along the mountain range, one for each company. But when the minerals depleted and finances grew thin, boundary disputes escalated into a full-fledged war. The mining companies degraded into six Outlander syndicates even as their members’ minds shriveled in the heat. Outlander Prowler ships would swoop in on a rival’s cargo vessels, filch the minerals, and escape back into their desert fortresses. As mining ceased, the Outlanders started raiding the Alönian borderlands.
The Sunbeam dropped in elevation as it neared the Maw, and David noticed the rock and sand blurred beneath his gaze. Just how fast were they going?
“I want to speak with the captain,” David said as he spun toward the stern.
Mercy smiled at his enthusiasm and followed at a more ladylike pace. David crossed the ship with ease over the steady lift of the balloon; it felt almost like solid ground. As he reached the pilot’s tower and climbed the dozen stairs, the captain nodded down at him. He stood a half a head over David with salt-and-pepper hair sprouting from beneath his cap and a name tag that read Captain Arold. His hands flicked switches and turned knobs with inhuman speed.