Helix (22 page)

Propped
on one elbow, she stared at him. “We will? You never told me that?”

“Well,
it’s only just occurred to me that it would be a wonderful thing to do.”

“What,
to marry—or to sail the circumferential sea?”

He
grinned and kissed her. “Both,” he said.

She
sighed. “Do you want to know what will really happen?”

“I
have a depressing feeling that you’re going to tell me.”

“We’ll
return to Agstarn and you’ll be arrested by the militia for unholy conduct. You
might escape a jail sentence, but you’ll have your company assets confiscated.
And, worse, I’ll be forced to renounce you and marry some clerk of the Church.”

He
pulled her to him, kissing her snout. “Ser, come on... Old Cannak is a fool.
Hykell, despite his position, is more enlightened than that. Just so long as I
don’t try to proclaim my atheism to all and sundry, I’ll be allowed my freedom.
You don’t think for a minute that they’d take the company from me? The city
relies on Telsa Dirigibles for its prosperity.”

“You
don’t think they’d be able to find someone else, just as young and ambitious,
but religious, to run the company?”

He
blinked. “They wouldn’t do that, would they?”

She
stared down on him, stroking the fur of his cheek. “If you keep baiting Cannak,
he’ll do his best when we return to bring you to your knees. Go easy on him,
Ehrin. Ignore him rather than risk incurring his wrath, hm?”

He
was silent for a long time after that, while Sereth napped on his chest and he
stared up at the low ceiling, her dire prophecy overlaying his own dreams with
images of gloating Elders and stark freezing frames.

He
thought of Kahran, and what he and his father had discovered on the expedition
to Sorny... Then the Church had done all in its power to silence the men, and
certainly in Kahran’s case they had succeeded. A handful of mangled fingers,
and much rancour, testified to the fact.

No
wonder that now, face to face with Elder Cannak, and the reality of the
authoritarian regime of Agstarn so far away as to seem of little threat, Kahran
was bent on exacting his own small, perhaps futile, revenge on the
representative of the High Church.

Perhaps
he should take Sereth’s words seriously, and cease his criticism of Cannak and
his beliefs?

Later
they stirred themselves and climbed out of bed. The others were no longer in
the lounge, having retired to their own cabins. Ehrin left Sereth with her
notes, pulled on his padded jacket and ventured out onto the plain.

He
found Kyrik beside the test bore, supervising the work of the dozen engineers
and fellow geologists. They had erected a small cabin beside the rig, and the
workers took it in turn to step out of the wind and warm themselves in the
shelter with mugs of tea.

The
noise from the drill, added to the howling wind, made conversation almost
impossible. Kyrik clapped him on the shoulder and pointed to the freighter, and
the two men crossed the snow and entered the looming cavern of the dirigible’s
hold.

“We’ve
hit a seam of iron.” the geologist reported. “At this stage it’s hard to tell
how extensive it is, but we’re hopeful. We’re going deeper, and the test should
be in within the hour. If it’s high grade, and there’s enough of it, then the
expedition’s exceeded all expectations.”

“Good
news.” He shook Kyrik’s hand. “Let’s keep hoping...” he said by way of
farewell.

“And
praying, Ehrin. Let’s pray we bring glory to the Church in the eyes of God.”

Ehrin,
wearing a fixed smile, nodded and feebly echoed the geologist’s sentiments.
“Let’s hope so, Kyrik.”

He
stepped out into the wind, watched the drilling for five minutes, then looked
around—a great three-sixty degree sweep of the plain—-at the desolate and
forbidding landscape. He thought of Agstarn, the heated mansions, the bountiful
markets... and the repressive regime of the Church. Shuddering, he made his way
back to the
Expeditor.

That
evening, as darkness fell across the land, they ate a meal of meat pastries and
boiled vegetables in the lounge, the notable absence being Elder Cannak who
elected to dine alone in his cabin. Ehrin for one was relieved. The continual
presence of the prim, upright Elder—censorious to a degree—made Ehrin want to
goad the man. In light of Sereth’s earlier warning, Ehrin had decided to think
twice before confronting Cannak; even ignoring the man would be preferable to
getting himself deeper into trouble.

The
three ate well, the conversation helped along by a bottle of summer-fruit wine.
Kahran, growing maudlin, told them of his childhood in the slum outskirts of
Agstarn, and then his apprenticeship at the foundry, where he had soon formed a
strong working partnership, then friendship, with his boss, Ehrin’s father.

“They
were great days, Ehrin. The company was small, but ambitious. Together we
designed and developed some of the airships that would become great—the Telsa
17b, the Arrow, which grew into what is now the Telsa cargo freighter. I don’t
know, but it seemed that the Church left us alone back in the early days,
didn’t interfere with what we did. Perhaps it was just that we were a small
concern, but now that we’re big, well, the Church wants its grubby finger in
the fat pie.”

Sereth
said, “Were you never religious, even as a boy?”

Kahran
smiled into his wine. “My father always said that religion for the poor was but
another form of repression, while for the rich it was merely another means of
wielding power.” He laughed.

“With
a father like that, how could I have grown up pious?”

“It’s
no wonder that you became fast friends with my father, Kahran.”

The
old man tipped his glass, then dabbed a droplet of wine from his greying snout.
“We were like this,” he said, meshing his fingers. “We made Telsa Dirigibles
what it is today. Later,” and he laughed a little drunkenly here, “Agstarn
became too small for us. We craved adventure. We conceived an expedition, west
to the outpost of Sorny.” He stopped, then said, “I look back and wonder
whether I regret venturing there. It made me what I am today, forged my view of
the world... but the sacrifices...” He terminated his recollections by draining
his glass and reaching for the bottle.

“More
wine!” he cried. “Drink has charms to soothe the troubled spirit!”

Sereth
smiled. “I’ve had enough for one day, Kahran.” She hesitated, and Ehrin saw
that she was considering asking Kahran about Sorny, and he shook his head
warningly.

Later,
perhaps when they were back in Agstarn, he would ply Kahran with wine and try
to learn the truth for himself.

A
little later, a knock sounded at the hatch. Kyrik entered, apologising for the
interruption, and reported good news. The lode they had discovered was
huge—enough to supply the needs of Agstarn for at least five years, at a conservative
estimate. The plan was to continue drilling through the night, to assess the
true extent of the seam, and then discuss the situation in the morning. One
body of opinion among the geologists was that they should return immediately to
Agstarn so that the development of the site might be initiated as soon as
possible.

Ehrin
said that they should discuss the possibility at first light. When Kyrik
departed, he said to Sereth, “So we might yet return to Agstarn in triumph.”

Sereth
was about to reply when an explosion like thunder, but sharper, cracked above
their heads. Sereth shrieked and grabbed his hand. Ehrin started, almost
knocking over the table, while Kahran swore pithily and then excused himself to
Sereth.

“The
rig!” Ehrin cried, jumping up and grabbing his padded jacket.

Cannak
emerged from his cabin, looking alarmed. “By all that’s holy, what was that?”

Ehrin
rushed for the hatch, ignoring the Elder, while behind him Sereth explained
that perhaps something had happened to the test bore.

With
Kahran not far behind him, Ehrin left the
Expeditor
and hurried over to
the rig. The geologists and engineers were gathered outside the cabin, staring
at the darkening southern horizon. Ehrin looked to the rig, saw nothing amiss,
then found Kyrik. “What the hell was that?”

In
reply, Kyrik pointed.

High
in the sky to the south, the deepening darkness of the overcast was bisected by
a fiery line, which vectored towards the plain perhaps five miles away.

Kahran
grasped Ehrin’s arm and hissed, “Your father had a theory—if any airborne
vessels were to exceed the speed of sound, then they would create a... an
acoustic explosion, I think he called it. Don’t you see!”

Ehrin
felt a little dizzy, at once relieved that the rig was undamaged, but having to
come to terms with what Kahran was telling him.

As
he watched, whatever it was that had streaked through the heavens came to
ground to the west; he awaited the resulting explosion, but none came.

The
geologists, conversing among themselves, returned to work on the bore. Kahran
was still gripping his elbow. “We can’t just stand here like stuffed zeer!
We’ve got to go and investigate.”

His
heart thumped. “What do you think it was?”

“Whatever
it is, the bastard Cannak would proscribe our investigations.”

“We
needn’t tell him.” Ehrin thought about it. “Kahran, we’ll take the freighter.
Tell Kyrik what we’re doing—make some excuse along the lines that the Elder is
sleeping so we can’t take the
Expediter.
I’ll go and tell Sereth.”

Kahran
nodded and rushed off to find the geologist. Ehrin, excitement creating a
delicious pressure in his chest, made his way back to the dirigible.

Sereth
and Elder Cannak were in the lounge, and both looked up when he entered.
“Well?” Cannak asked querulously.

“I
don’t know what it was,” he said. “We’re taking the freighter up, to get a
better look over the area. I suspect it was nothing more than a freak
meteorological effect. We’ll probably find nothing.”

Cannak
gave him a dubious look, as if he suspected Ehrin of concealing the truth. “Do
you need an extra pair of hands?” the Elder asked.

“There’s
no need. I’m taking Kahran.”

Sereth
stood. “Take care, Ehrin.”

He
managed a laugh. “There’s nothing to worry about. Brew some more tea. We’ll be
in need of it when we get back.”

He
kissed her, nodded towards the Elder and slipped from the lounge.

Kahran
met him beside the double hatch of the freighter’s gondola. “I’m surprised
Cannak didn’t try to stop you.”

“I
said it was probably thunder, but that we’re taking the freighter up for a
look.”

Kahran
laughed. “All set?”

While
Ehrin settled himself at the controls and started the engines, Kahran moved
around the freighter pulling up the spikes. Five minutes later he joined Ehrin
in the control room as the freighter rose, turned slowly, and moved off to the
west.

Ehrin
kept the dirigible low to the ground, the better to see... whatever was to be
seen, wreckage or debris of some kind, perhaps. He looked across at Kahran. The
old man was staring through the forward window, his watery eyes alert.

“If
it were something... a craft... that flew faster than sound...” He shook his
head. “We don’t have such technology, Kahran.”

The
oldster nodded, not taking his eyes off the plain below. “It’s a big world,
Ehrin. Agstarn does not comprise its extent. What lies over the horizon, and
beyond even
that?”

Ehrin
stared at him. “Sorny,” he whispered.

Kahran
grinned. “Try even further than Sorny, my boy.”

Before
Ehrin could beg an explanation, Kahran cried out and pointed. Ehrin slowed the
engines and peered through the window, heart hammering.

Down
below, dark against the pale ice field, he made out a deep rut scored across
the plain; it ran for perhaps two hundred yards, terminating in a wedge-shaped
object half-buried in a frozen bow-wave of snow.

He
felt dizzy, and a hot wave of nausea swept over him. He clutched at the
controls to steady himself, then throttled down the engines and brought the
freighter to hover over the crash-landed craft.

Craft...
something manufactured, flown
here for a reason, by people with a technological sophistication far in advance
of anything in his wildest dreams.

The
thought was at once terrifying and irresistibly alluring.

“Take
the crate down,” Kahran said. “I’ll make it fast. Then...” He looked at Ehrin,
reached out and gripped his hand. “Then we’ll go for a closer look.”

Ehrin
nodded, something constricting his throat. He lowered the freighter, bringing
it to rest on the plain fifty yards from the downed vessel. While Kahran
hurried from the cabin and secured the hawsers, Ehrin settled the engines and
stared out through the window.

Little
could be seen of the craft from this angle, other than the piled snow it had
pushed up with its precipitate landing. The superstructure that was visible
glowed a dull gold in the dying light. Nothing moved, other than a curl of
steam rising from its carapace.