Halcyon The Complete Trilogy (38 page)

Inside the
Halcyon
, Taziri eased into her seat and stared at the dark switches and lifeless gauges. Then she stood up and crossed to the back of the cabin, opened a wide panel in the wall, and stared at the battery. Her battery. The rectangular blocks of metal and wood squatted where the engine should have been. It stank of burnt chemicals and a greenish-white powder had formed a mound on top of one of the terminals. She could feel the charge in the air.

For as long as she could stand it, Taziri tightened screws and bolts, scrubbed and oiled gears and levers, and generally did all of the things she liked least about working around machines. But it was something to do.

“They wouldn’t take my letter!”

Taziri spun about and hit her head. She blinked at the undamaged motor housing as she sat up and then glanced over at Evander, who was leaning in through the cabin door. “What?”

“At the train. They wanted money. I showed them my letter from the queen,
your queen
, but they didn’t care. They demanded cash money, coins, and they turned their noses up at my drachmas!” The doctor collapsed onto the padded bench and began wiping at the sweat beaded on his forehead.

“Ah.” Taziri winced. “So you’ll be staying with me, then?”

“Obviously!” The doctor frowned. “Just as well. I left my bag under the seat here somewhere.” He ducked down and tugged his black leather case out from under the bench.

“Well, give me a few minutes to clean up here and we’ll head back to the inn to meet up with Kenan. Maybe he had better luck today than we did.”

Evander snorted. “That wouldn’t take much trying.”

Taziri quickly sealed up the open panels and compartments and flicked a few switches just to make sure she hadn’t left anything disconnected. “All right, let’s go.”

They crossed the airfield beneath a sky more yellow than blue as the sun sank lower toward the western hills, and the warmth of the day quickly faded. As they reached the main gate, the echo of angry voices caught Taziri’s ear and she scanned the field for the source. Two women were standing at the open door of the older airship, gesturing sharply and looking rather cross. One wore an orange jacket and Taziri knew her name, it was on the tip of her tongue but she couldn’t quite say it. The other woman wore a long white coat and an odd little light flashed around her eyes as her head moved. Sunglasses.

“What are you staring at?” Evander glanced at the woman in white. “She’s not that good looking. Bad skin, too.”

“What? No, it’s just that the detective said she was attacked by a woman in a white coat. It’s nothing. Just a coincidence. Caught my eye.” Taziri watched the woman conclude her argument with the airship pilot and storm away toward the gate. Toward them. “But I think that woman died in the fire. And besides, she lost an eye.”

“What detective? What are you babbling about? Hurry up, I want to get back to the inn before supper time. I want that same table again, although I could do without the mint in the tea.” Evander paced away and paused. “Well?”

Taziri, suddenly aware that the woman in white was still coming straight toward her, turned and nodded. “Sure, let’s go.”

She had barely stepped off the field onto the street when she was tapped on the shoulder and a husky voice said, “Hey, you’re a pilot, right?”

Taziri turned back and saw the woman’s skin had the olive hue of someone from the eastern regions of the Middle Sea, not unlike Evander, only she was darker and her face seemed a bit blotchy. More than a bit. The skin around her left eye looked particularly red. “Actually, I’m an elec…yes, I’m a pilot. Can I help you?”

“You can take me to Carthage tonight. I can pay whatever you want.” She crossed her arms as a slight shiver ran though her body.

“Sorry, but I don’t arrange charters. You’ll have to talk to the clerk at the office over there.” Taziri pointed to the small building just inside the airfield wall. “Have a nice day.” She started to leave.

“No, you don’t understand.” The woman grabbed her arm. “I need to leave tonight. I can pay double.” She paused. “Triple, in cash.”

Taziri frowned, her gaze drifting up to the angry red patches on the woman’s face. “Are you all right? You’re not hurt, are you?”

“I’m fine. It’s just a burn. A sunburn. I’m not from around here.”

“That’s no sunburn.” Evander snorted. “That’s a proper burn. You ought to let me look at that. Come here and take off those glasses.” He gestured roughly at her to step forward.

Her lips pulled back in a rictus of bare teeth and gums. “I said I’m fine. Now, are we leaving for Carthage or not?”

“Sorry.” Taziri pulled her arm free. “Not.”

“Then I’ll have to insist.” The woman drew a long, thin knife from inside her coat and gently prodded the pilot in the belly.

Taziri jerked away from the point in her skin, one hand thrown out to wave Evander away. A bright spike of fear split her mind and in that moment she couldn’t think or move, she could only stare at the blade. But when nothing happened, her mouth began to work again. “Madam, please, if you’re in some sort of trouble, there are better ways to handle things than with knives and threats. If you can’t wait for a flight, you can take a train or a ship. They may be slower but they run every day and they’re cheap. All right? So why don’t you put that thing away and I’ll just forget that you assaulted me.”

“You seem to be forgetting that it’s the person with the knife who gives the orders.” The woman edged closer.

Taziri battered the knife aside with the broadside of her medical brace and shoved the woman as she grabbed the doctor. “Move-move-move!”

They dashed back onto the airfield and Taziri steered the huffing, unsteady Hellan toward the equipment shed. “It’s definitely her, the one the detective fought!”

“What detective?” Evander glared over his shoulder. “What the devil is going on?”

Taziri yanked the door of the shed open, pushed the doctor inside and shut the door behind them. “Lock, need a lock, something…here!” She grabbed a pry-bar from a work bench and jammed it through the door handle. “Something else, something heavy?”

“Here!” Evander was driving his shoulder against the nearest crate and failing utterly to budge it. Taziri instead grabbed the rim of the closest barrel, tipped it over, and rolled it against the door, jamming another pry-bar under it to stop it from rolling away. Then she exhaled and glanced at her surroundings.

 The door and the walls of the shed were iron, old and rusting, but thick as a man’s finger. Three large skylights in the roof illuminated the long chamber and its contents. Boxes and crates and shelves of spare parts, barrels of oil and coal, tins of grease, and canisters of all sizes.

Something crashed against the door outside. Taziri put her eye to a crack in the wall and spotted the flash of white out on the airfield. “It’s okay, she’s leaving. Walking, walking. Oh no, she’s going after that other pilot again. And the ground crew! God!” She shoved away from the wall and dashed along the work benches, spinning about, trying to inventory everything in the shed in a single instant. “Come on, think, think.”

“No thinking. Waiting.” Evander sat down on a box, his chest still heaving as sweat poured down his face. “We’re not going anywhere until the authorities come and take her away.”

“No time for that. We need to…here!” She snatched up a pair of large canisters, screwed them onto the nozzles of a fat gas tank, and opened the valves. A loud hissing filled the shed.
This is stupid! These canisters are too big to throw very far, and what if the seals don’t break, and what if there isn’t enough gas, and what if—

The Hellan fixed her with an angry squint. “What are you doing?”

“Giving that woman a taste of early retirement.” Taziri carefully counted the seconds passing as she calculated the volumes of the canisters. At the right moment, she whipped the canisters away and capped them. Then she dipped a pair of rags in engine grease and tied them to the little handles near the neck of each canister. “A match, I need a match! I don’t have a match, where…no, there won’t be any in here. Doctor, I need a light, a light!”

Evander gave his immediate surroundings a glance, and shrugged. Taziri dashed back into the shelves and crates at the back of the shed and emerged a moment later with the rusting remains of a small windmill. She tossed the thing onto the workbench and yanked out the wires from its base, pulled the utility knife from her pocket, and quickly split and stripped the wires.

“Now what are you doing?”

“Making fire in the absolutely least convenient way imaginable.” She held the two exposed wires in one hand, their tips hovering only a hair apart and just above one of the greasy rags. With her other hand, Taziri grabbed the sturdiest looking blade of the windmill and began spinning it as fast as she could. A moment later, a spark flickered between the wires. A moment after that, a shower of sparks fell onto the rag, and then another. Taziri spun the blade until her shoulder ached and the wires went on spitting sparks onto the rags until angry little flames suddenly unfurled across them. Taziri shoved the windmill away and grabbed the two canisters, using the one burning rag to light the other one. Then she kicked her blockade away from the door and the door swung open on its crooked hinges.

Taziri ran across the field. The other pilot and the ground crew had barricaded themselves inside the older airship, and the woman in white was slowly but surely smashing through the tempered glass with her long knives. “Hey you!” Taziri stopped in the middle of the field, still some distance away from the woman. “Hey! Leave them alone!” 

The woman continued shattering the airship windows.

Taziri grimaced and hurled one her flaming canisters so that it fell just behind the woman. When it struck the ground, it split open length-wise along the seal and the released gas exploded with a deafening thunderclap followed by the
woof
of a fire ball. It was a very small explosion, and all trace of it vanished in an instant, but the woman was thrown face first into the broken window. She stumbled away from the airship with one hand pressed to the side of her face where bright red blood was streaming across her skin and running down the front of her white coat. She dashed across the field with the stiletto in hand. “You think I’m scared of a little fire?”

Taziri jogged backwards. “Stay back! I have another one!”

The woman in white leapt at her.

In that instant, Taziri only saw the knife tip flying at her chest and a cold terror raced down her arms. She threw the canister with a clumsy gesture as she twisted away to protect herself. Through narrowed eyes, she saw the canister crack open against the woman’s shin, saw the brilliant gold and crimson blossom of flames swallow her lower body, saw her thrown into the air as her legs were blasted out from under her. She spun a tight and violent rotation in empty space and fell like a sack of bricks in the muddy grass, right on top of the broken canister.

For two deep breaths, Taziri could only stare and swallow. Then she shivered and straightened up, and she jogged over to the woman and kicked the knife out of her hand. The woman’s eyes were closed but she was breathing in thin, painful wheezes. Taziri stood over her and winced at the sight of her face. The fresh cut on her forehead was shallow but bloody. The burns were minor but ugly. Her sunglasses were gone, revealing an empty eye socket. The sight of the gaping hole brought a mouthful of bile up against her teeth and Taziri leaned away to spit it out and cough.

As she backed away, the other pilot and ground crew came running over. They thanked her and praised her makeshift flash-bangs with awkward smiles. The men grabbed the woman and bound her hands and someone ran off to find the police. Taziri stood and watched it happen, watched them buzz with nervous excitement and weary relief. Evander came up, glanced about the scene, and wandered off toward the gate, muttering only the briefest of thanks.

The police came, asked their questions, and took the woman away. At that moment, Taziri didn’t want to go back into the city, back in search of the Espani doctor. She wanted to leave. She wanted to go home. So she paced back to the
Halcyon
and slipped into the pilot’s seat and watched as the green grass faded to black and silver as day became night. Above the dark walls around the field, she thought she saw a dull orange glow to the west and a column of smoke rising above it. She closed her eyes, but more images and sounds from the last two days crowded her head, and for the longest time she tried to focus on home, on Isoke and her ship, on Yuba and their daughter. But it was all too much and she was too tired. She was just about to get up and leave when she heard the soft shushing of people walking on grass and she turned to see Ghanima and Evander in the shadows a few yards away. They entered the cabin.

“What’s going on?” Taziri asked. “I thought you were going home.”

“I was,” Ghanima said. “But I missed the morning train and then I had all day to think about, well, everything. I sent a telegram. My sister will be okay for another day or two. I guess I need a little more time. I need to get the
Crake
out of my head, you know? I just need a little bit of normal right now, before I go back to her.” Ghanima leaned against the pilot’s chair. “So. Do you feel like a little night flying?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I ran into the doc at the inn and it seems he still needs a ride to Orossa.” She grinned. “So how about we run him up there right now, turn around, and fly all night back to Tingis? We could be home by dawn if the wind plays nice.”

“Well, that sounds like a plan. But what about Kenan?”

There was a sharp rap on the hatch rim and the weary face of the one of the ground crew men poked in. “We’ve got a bit of an emergency. How fast can you folks get out of here?”

“Why? What emergency?” Ghanima asked.

“Fire, a big one in the third district, completely out of control. It just came in over the wire, emergency regs are in effect. All airships need to be out of the city immediately.”

Ghanima tossed the man a quick salute. “Acknowledged.” And the man was gone.