The Wind Merchant (39 page)

Ras picked himself back up and shouted down to his father. “What did you do?”

Elias poked his head up from the hold. “More than one place on a ship you can steer her. We lose anything important?”

Ras dumbly shook his head. “I don’t think so. Just another step toward winning Atmo’s ugliest wind merchant vessel…which I guess isn’t technically even a collection ship anymore.” He stared off to the horizon, lost in thought.

“Never insult your girl, Ras,” Elias said. “What’s her name?”

“
The Brass Fox
or Callie?”

Elias lifted an eyebrow. “The neighbor girl? You two together?”

“No, and that’s the problem,” Ras said. “Well, one of many.”

Elias nodded thoughtfully and walked up to the bridge.

“Dad, how am I supposed to save
Verdant
now?”

“You never were, so don’t worry about it,” Elias said, studying the controls. “I like the layout. You build this?”

“Yeah…wait, you mean Hal wasn’t going to replace the engines?”

“Maybe, maybe not,” Elias said, then slapped his son on his arm and gave his winning smile. “So, Callie Tourbillon. I always figured you had a thing for her.” Elias monitored the control panel, then took the wheel to strike out on a new heading.

“Dad! Where are you going? I have to save Callie.”

“And the rest of
Verdant
, I get that—”

“No, the Elders have her. We came to The Wild—I mean Illoria—together and I was just on my way to get her back when I ran into you.”

A screech resounded far and wide across the barren plains of Illoria.

“What’s that?” Ras asked.

Elias' eyes widened. “The main gate. Someone did my job.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

The Reclaimer

Elias piloted
The Brass Fox
along the cliff face they had brushed earlier in a weak attempt to hide in the cloudless sky. “Did anyone follow you through Hal’s pass?”

“A Collective ship followed us,” Ras said. “I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re fine. Great even,” Elias said. “I never thought I’d be thanking The Collective.”

“Why did Hal want the gate opened?” Ras asked.

“Venting Atmo of excess Energy. Levels would get so low that they’d have to pull
The Winnower
off the Origin so cities wouldn’t fall.”

“No offense, but I think you’re giving The Collective too much credit,” Ras said. “They pulled out from The Bowl when I lost us our last Convergence.”

Elias grimaced. “Well, if they’re going to control Time, they’re going to need to release their grip on Energy, and the Elders aren’t giving that up without a fight.”

“Wait, wouldn’t opening the gate flood Atmo with Elders?”

“We had the Great Overload, they had the Great…well, I don’t know what they called it, but instead of Energy Knacks blowing up into Convergences, Time Knacks froze cities. Most of the Illorians became stuck in Time after the main gate was built, so they shouldn’t have the forces to subjugate Atmo anymore. The only ‘Elders’ left are the ones in the ships that were flying high enough to miss out on the freezings. Their third-generation military is basically all that’s left, but they should be able to keep The Collective away from controlling the Time Origin.”

“Dad, things have changed since you’ve been gone. The Collective developed some sort of Energy weapon.”

“Sounds like they’re asking for another Great Overload. Is it like an Energy filled cannon ball or something?” Elias asked.

“It’s a beam of some sort. Disintegrates ships. They’re going to rip through what’s left of Illoria, and the Elders have Callie,” Ras said, running his hands through his hair until his fingers became tangled in the knots. “Even if The Collective winds up controlling Time, I can’t let them go through Callie to do it, and I have no clue where she is.”

Elias looked at his son. “I guess the old plan ain’t what it used to be.”

“If you want to find a way back to see mom again, I understand,” Ras said. “
Verdant
’s sunk no matter what; I’m sure she could use some help.”

His father leaned against the dash, deep in thought for longer than Ras expected. He had always imagined his father to be quick with a plan and bold in its execution, and Ras worked hard not to feel disappointed as he waited.

“Why didn’t you tell me I was a Lack?” Ras said, breaking the silence.

“Ras, don’t call yourself that,” Elias said.

“How hard would it have been to tell me?” Ras asked. “Maybe you could have had mom do it if you didn’t want to.”

“She didn’t know what you…or she could do to someone,” Elias said. “I never told her.”

“Well, she certainly seemed to have a good idea,” Ras said. “Did you know that mom was a La…could stop you from overloading?”

Elias nodded. “Just about anyone from below the clouds can.”

Ras opened his mouth to speak, but no words came to him.

“There’s a reason your mother never talked much about her family.”

“You’re telling me mom is a Remnant?”

Elias sighed, wiping his hands across his tired face. “Please tell me you never used that word around your mother. I never let you say it before.”

Ras had forgotten how sternly his father used to reprimand him as a child when he repeated that word after hearing it from schoolmates. “But you’re saying mom’s from below the clouds.”

“I am.”

Ras laughed.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, it’s just all those times I’ve been called a ‘
son of a Rem
-‘“ he cut himself off. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“The way people in Atmo treated those that were forced to stay behind like they were better than them,” Elias said. “The Atmo Project could only bring on so many, and the more people they brought, the shorter the amount of time before the floating cities became overpopulated. It’s a different world down there.”

“How did they survive?

“Well, one of the criteria for being moved to the Atmo Project was Energy sensitivity, so the ones left behind were obviously less at risk to blow up. After a few generations, the ones that had low sensitivity survived, had children, and I guess living so closely to Convergences eventually built up their immunity.”

“And The Collective has avoided them…I’m probably the first one they studied,” Ras said

“Probably,” said Elias, “Some day I’ll have to tell you how your mother and I actually met.”

Off in the distance a ragtag fleet filtered into The Wild through the main pass, well beneath the Illorian fleet, maintaining a healthy gap. Mixed in with airships bearing The Collective’s insignia were maroon and black painted vessels, making the fleet look about as far from uniform as one could expect of the biggest force in Atmo.

The Dauntless
brought up the rear, dwarfing the rest of the vessels.

“What is Bravo Company doing here?” Elias asked.

“Hal thinks they’re just another arm of The Collective,” Ras said, “and right now I’m not inclined to disagree.”

“I guess they didn’t want to risk
The Halifax
.”

“They don’t have
The Halifax
to risk. Callie sank it. Sort of,” Ras said with a shrug.

“You’re going to have to tell me about that one later,” Elias said, “Looks like the war’s about to start.” He brought
The Brass Fox
to an idle and tapped the fuel gauge. “We can’t afford to fly blindly,” he said. “They probably took Callie higher than we can climb.”
 

Ras left the bridge and began descending the stairs to the deck.

“Where are you going?” Elias asked.

“Well, I promised her I would keep her safe, so I’m staying here to find Callie so you can get back home and I won’t waste fuel.”

“How?”

“I’m taking the jetcycle,” Ras said.

“Mom let you buy a jetcycle?” Elias asked before receiving a look from his grown son.

Ras began climbing down into the hold, but stopped before disappearing entirely from Elias’ view. “You accomplished your mission. Maybe Hal will pay for
Verdant’s
engines for that.”

“Erasmus Veir,” Elias said, making Ras feel ten again. “Not fifteen minutes ago I was reconciling myself to the idea of never seeing you or your mother again. What would I say if I came back without you?”

Ras returned to the deck, standing tall. “Mom needed you, not me.
Verdant
needs you, not me. All of Atmo, for that matter,” he said, sweeping his arm around. “If I hadn’t led The Collective here, this war wouldn’t be happening, and I think we can all agree that either side winning that war means Atmo loses. I have one chance, however small, to make a difference to
one
person—who wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for me—and whether The Collective freezes us all or The Elders rip apart Atmo, I owe it to her to try.”

The two men stared at each other for a long moment.

“Tell mom I love her,” said Ras, turning to climb down to the hold.

“Ras.”

“What?”

“I’m proud of you,” Elias said, tossing his son the grapple gun.

“Dad?”

“Yes?”

“Incoming!” Ras pointed to two Collective gunships in the distance as they opened fire.

“Hang on to something!” Elias brought the ship into a dive along the cliff wall. Shots blasted into the rock face, raining debris down onto
The Brass Fox
’s balloon and deck.

The Brass Fox
had already sustained enough damage that it didn’t respond as quickly as it used to, and Ras felt like apologizing for each sluggish response to his father’s commands.
The Silver Fox
it was not, but Elias made no comment and focused on the task at hand.

One of the larger gunships dropped low to engage the wind merchants, lining up to release a salvo.

“No gun on this thing, huh?” Elias asked.

“Mom wouldn’t even let
you
have one.”

“I thought I’d ask,” Elias said, “I need you to man the anchor!”

The shots rang out from the gunship as Elias pulled back on the throttle. One of the shots clipped the nose of
The Brass Fox
.

“You need me alive, remember?” Ras shouted at the gunship as he ran over to the anchor crank.

“When I say, release it!” Elias shouted, pulling back hard on the fragmented wheel.
The Brass Fox
rose above the larger gunship, overtaking its sluggish opponent. “Now!”

Ras threw the lever, dropping the anchor onto the front of the balloon. With a shudder,
The Brass Fox
pulled back as its anchor raked across the canvas from bow to aft, forcing the gunship to dive under its own weight.

The gunship’s engines attempted to overcompensate for the lack of lift, only slamming the ship harder into the ground. The impact ripped up the cracked soil, leaving a scar in its wake. The anchor caught on the metal frame of the gunship, and jerked
The Brass Fox
down until the chain snapped.

“Where’d you learn that?” Ras called back.

“Just made it up!” Elias laughed manically, then noticed the second gunship taking a ranged approach. “Got any other tricks?”

“Get above that one!” Ras shouted as he ran down to the hold entrance. The dark room chimed with every twist and turn as the shattered glass sloshed around the belly of the airship. He descended the ladder and carefully gained a foothold amidst the shards. Tiptoeing and nearly falling with each evasive dip, dodge, and juke of his ship, he managed to extract a large wrench that clung to the magnetized tool bench.

He heard his father call from above. “Better hurry! We’re above ‘em, but not for long!”

Ras hauled himself back up to the deck and loaded a spike into the grapple gun. Motioning with the wrench, he said, “After I rip the balloon, buzz back and I’ll grapple back!” In a fluid motion, he attempted to swing the wrench into his holster, but missed. The heroic moment evaporated, and Ras appreciated his father’s missing of the botched attempt. He slid the wrench into the holster with a bit more care.

Elias smiled. “Good idea.” It was a relatively safe plan, which was what Ras assumed his father particularly liked about it. It kept Ras out of the line of fire and even if it didn’t succeed in ripping the gunship’s balloon, he had an exit strategy.

The Brass Fox
slipped into a hard turn to port, and Ras held himself upright by the rope rigging, looking down at the gunship. He lined up a shot and ripped through the airship’s generous balloon to connect, but a quick bump in
The Brass Fox
’s altitude yanked Ras overboard.

The fall wasn’t far, but Ras wasn’t entirely certain he wouldn’t have passed out from the height in his
Verdant
days. He plummeted, reeling in cabling so he couldn’t fall beneath the body of the gunship after sliding from the envelope.

He hit the canvas atop the airship, bouncing a bit before pulling himself back to the puncture point by the cable. Unholstering the wrench with his right hand, he swung down to rip at the canvas below, opening up a big enough hole in the envelope to see inside.

He loaded up another charge and fired off the spike grapple again, targeting the forward ballonet. The spike pierced the bladder, then continued onward to strike the deck below. “Let’s see you climb without
that
,” Ras said, chuckling at his clever little plan.

Shouts of Collective crew erupted, and before Ras could cut his cable and his losses, he was pulled arm first into the balloon. Bouncing off the bladder of the faltering forward ballonet, he threaded through the puncture like a large needle.

Falling inside the Energy-filled ballonet was an easy way for a Knack to die, and Ras always wondered what its innards looked like. The bland interior left his childhood curiosity sated yet disappointed as he fumbled for the cable disengaging mechanism. Another heave from below caused him to once again follow his arm through the puncture to the deck.

What concerned Ras more than nearly falling onto his own spike were the half dozen Collective midshipmen he fell onto before landing awkwardly onto the deck. They grinned over their prize of a saboteur.