Sly Mongoose (22 page)

Renata reared up from under the edge, standing on a set of crates stacked and laid out like stairs. She grabbed Luc by the collar of his shirt and yanked him down into the hold headfirst.

Just as quickly two of her men crawled up the boxes past her onto the deck and sprinted at the pirates.

Caught off guard, they jumped back. The Aeolians raised their slender wooden stakes. Timas looked away as they impaled all four of the pirates.

The pirates thrashed about on the floor, slowly dying as they bled out and gasped for air that wasn’t coming.

Timas climbed down past Renata to Luc’s side. But Cen’s brother didn’t stir. Timas looked back up at Renata, and she shook her head.

For her, a minor regret. For Timas, he now had gotten both his best friend and his best friend’s brother killed. He sat next to Luc, fighting the sick feeling deep in his stomach.

Katerina walked over. “You’re hurt badly.”

“We’ll never get them back.” Timas took the piece of shirt she offered him and dabbed at his face.

“He wanted you dead. This isn’t your fault.”

Timas put the bloodied cloth over Luc’s face. He’d been to many xocoyotzin funerals and watched the families of distant friends collapsing. Everyone carried the burden that pervaded the top level, the fear of constantly wondering if their children would return to the surface alive after every trip.

Timas could only accept the responsibility of others’ burdens for so long. Was it not also the responsibility of the creature he’d seen in the mist, for getting caught out when the aliens had stayed hidden for so long? Or the fault of his grandparents for making bad choices that led to their citywide poverty?

Didn’t the League, all those wormhole junctions away, bear the blame for the aliens’ persecution, the only thing that would drive aliens to hide here?

Katerina was right. It was time to let it all go, Timas thought, lest it eat him up like it ate Luc up.

“Come on.” Katerina stood. “They may need our help.”

Timas followed her up the crates. They’d bury Luc in the clouds with his brother later.

Timas and Katerina found the other six crewmen already tied with rope to chairs in the galley, taken by surprise. Pots of rice and stew still sat on the table that the chairs ringed, half-eaten bowls steaming in front of them.

Timas felt his stomach rumble.

“Let us go,” one pirate begged. Timas hadn’t seen him before, but bits of moss grew all over him. He looked dark green instead of brown. Bits of chapped moss flaked off as he pulled against the ropes keeping him trapped.

This happened to people who worked outside cities or on the outside of ships. Tiny particles in Chilo’s atmosphere in the clouds would grow on you.

Gross.

“We’ll pay you well,” another promised.

Katerina snorted, and they brushed through a bulkhead and past
sweaty-smelling unkept beds bunked up three high against the wall. Small canvas lace-up flaps hung down to prevent sleepers from being tossed out of the beds when turbulence hit.

After that, the chart room, where Renata sat looking down at several sheafs of paper with pencil marks all over them. She used a pair of rulers joined together to mark out lines in rapid strokes of the pencil. “The pilot spotted us before we got to the cockpit.” She pointed forward.

Timas leaned out of the nook the chart table was in to look forward. Down past the next bulkhead where two of her men were, the pilot lay dead, sprawled facedown.

One of the Aeolians turned back and waved. “Renata! We’re ready.”

Renata grabbed Katerina. “We’re making a run for it.” They banked hard right, the small cluster of pirate airships in front of them sliding away to their side. “But they’ll be able to keep pace. It’ll be dicey. You’re an avatar, randomly picked for this. As for us, we chose this. Because of that we feel you should have a choice now in what comes next for you.”

Katerina frowned. “What do you mean?”

“We have guns to shoot back, charges to fire, and this is an attack airship. My men are up in the airbag to man guns there and on the airship’s car. Things are falling apart all across Chilo, that much is obvious. We’re in a good position to fight the pirates here, and maybe, maybe get back and help our cities. But we may get shot down.

“You can stay with us, or, we can get you aboard an emergency bubble. Three days air, food, and an emergency beacon.” Renata shoved the map toward them. “After we drop you out the lock, which we’ll do at cloud level, we chaff the area. We’re headed back toward the strand-beests, between them and the chaff, the pirates will be hard pressed to stop and hunt for you. After we pass through, you increase the air and heat in your bubble, expand it a bit, and pop up five thousand feet. There’s a strong air current that feeds into the Great Storm. That takes you back toward Yatapek. Fire off your emergency beacon after fifteen hours.”

“I want that option,” Timas said. “Whether she goes or not.”

“I figured.” Renata rolled the chart up. “But we here owe her that choice. She made a big sacrifice to serve the Consensus.”

Katerina looked down at the rolled-up wind map in Renata’s hand. “I’m not sure what to do. No friend polls here, huh?”

Renata laughed. “No. We’re all cut out. I guess you’ve never had that happen, have you?”

“No.” Katerina shook her head. “I miss everyone.”

“You’ll have about fifteen minutes before we get near the strandbeests again, we’re gunning the engines here. Make up your mind by then. I’ll leave you some quiet time.”

Katerina glanced at Timas and then back to Renata. “I want the bubble. I think Timas saw something important. I think I’ll best serve Consensus by getting back to Yatapek.”

“Okay.” Renata stood up, her arm around Katerina’s shoulder. “Let’s get you ready.”

She led them down to the bunks, to another hatch Timas had not noticed on the way up. They clambered down the ladder into the bowels of the airship’s car once again.

A small airlock jutted out of the bottom of this compartment, though. And inside of it would be their escape bubble. After a quick delay, Renata came down the stairs with a tightly wrapped box. “Food and water. There are . . . expandable bags for both of you in the bubble already.”

“Expandable?” Katerina frowned.

“If it takes much longer than fifteen hours, you’ll need to use the bathroom. It’ll be uncomfortable in such close quarters, but many others have survived it.”

Timas blushed as Katerina nodded.

“One of you in first, then the next. It’s tight right now.”

“I’ll go.” Timas took the lead and spun the hatch open. He dropped his legs through and then crouched in the tiny lock. He pushed his back up against the wall. It crinkled. He was inside the bubble lining, hanging from the insides of the airlock.

Katerina’s long legs slid through, and then she dropped in. They were pressed up close to each other. Embarrassingly close, hips brushing.

Renata leaned in, her puffy hair bobbing against the metallic rim. “Okay, usually these drop, wait, then shoot straight up. But you’re trying
to avoid that and lay low. So I pulled the climb sensor. You have to yank on this ripcord to initiate the climb.”

Timas looked at the red cord nestled inside four dials, and several gauges mounted on the solid plastic floor under his feet. “Okay.”

“This dial here adds air pressure from the tank under your feet. The walls are pretty flexible, just watch the pressure dial and don’t go into red.” Then there was the heater, which added lift, a vent to drop, the ripcord for the emergency beacon, and the tiny cupboard/trash can for waste. Including human waste. Ballast weights on the bottom, little bags of lead that could be dropped by another switch if needed, but the balloon would unbalance and tumble. Those were only for a desperation climb.

“We got it all,” Katerina said.

“If you inflate the ball out hard, there’s room for some five or six people, it should be comfortable.” Renata pointed out the webbing on the edges of the plastic floor. They’d have room to lay out and sleep as it stretched out fully. “Now zip up your top. I’ll fire you guys off when I hear we’re in position.”

She slapped the rim, and Timas stretched up and zipped the clear plastic around the edge of the rim.

They sat on the floor, knees knocking, facing each other in the tiny space.

“Are you scared?” Katerina asked.

Timas considered lying. He decided against it. “I’m terrified.”

She laughed. “Me too.”

Renata slammed the hatch shut and dogged it. They were truly alone. “But it’s easier, with someone else.” Timas bit his lip.

“Yeah.”

The wait dragged on. Timas felt his mouth go dry. It ranged from seconds to an eternity, just sitting there waiting, his heart hammering.

“It’s been a few minutes.”

Timas nodded. As he did so the bubble lurched and then dropped out of the bottom of the aircar. He glanced up, reaching out to grab the sides instinctively, and saw the airship shoot up away from them.

Several thousands of tiny twirling bits of chaff exploded at random points in the sky.

They tumbled slightly as they fell, the grungy brown clouds swirling around them. Timas caught a glimpse of the pirate fleet far overhead.

The bubble stopped tumbling, inflating slightly with a hiss from under their feet, popping their ears. Then dropped through cloud wisps as the bubble slowed down, shook, and then steadied.

A glance at the altimeter gauge confirmed that they had stopped falling.

“We made it out!” Katerina smiled. Timas stood up, the edges of the floor stretched with webbing around it. He could even walk around Katerina a bit if he wanted.

He walked over and leaned against the edge, looking into the murk. “I wonder how long these walls can handle the acid in the clouds.” Acid beaded up on the outside already. The clouds dripped with it, and the beads of acid started congealing into rivulets that dripped off the large balloon.

“We’ll give it fifteen minutes,” Timas said, watching the tiny rivers of acid. “I’ll watch the balloon, you let me know when time’s up.”

She counted down, minute by minute, as he walked the edge of the platform, poking the skin with his finger to figure out if the sections in contact with acid were weakening.

By ten minutes he could tell that there were differences in give.

“Let’s ascend.” Timas poked at one part near the zipped top where acid had sat and weakened the skin enough so that his finger left an indentation when he poked hard enough.

“Timas? I think I see something.”

He turned. Something
was
moving through the gloom at them, a large shadow.

Timas scrambled for the ripcord. A fast enough ascent to get over it, and maybe whatever it was wouldn’t notice them in this muck.

But he paused at the last second as the shadow became a giant strand-beest, dwarfing their tiny bubble with its slow-moving canvas wings and slow trailing tail.

The giant spiked nose gently turned toward them and bumped them.

Katerina jumped back. “Can it poke through?”

“I hope not.”

“It’s like it’s curious. The acid in the clouds can’t be good for it.”

The mechanical monster tapped the ball like a toy, nudging it along up out of the clouds. A second construction pushed through the clouds and joined it.

Timas grabbed the webbing as they jostled the balloon around.

“What are they doing?” Katerina asked.

“I don’t know,” Timas snapped, scared that they might break the balloon with their giant nudges. “Pull the ripcord for a few seconds, let’s see if we can get higher and left alone.”

Katerina gave the ripcord a long tug and the balloon filled out more. They rose, lifting out of the clouds, and the strandbeests followed.

Timas looked up, and to his dismay saw several more descending on them. He stood up.

“What are you doing?” Katerina asked.

“Trying to see if maybe someone is controlling it.”

“There’s nothing there but gears and arms,” she said. “It’s a giant clockwork toy.”

Another insistent nudge spun the balloon upside down and threw him off the walls. Katerina smacked her nose against his knee. As the balloon righted itself, she clutched it. “It hurts.”

“Quit moving about, lock your arms in the straps,” Timas said. Looking up he could see more strandbeests surrounding them.

The flock of giant machines closed in, completely blocking out the entire world. A creaking, whirring, gigantic mass of strangely articulated parts, airbags, and motion that had decided to take them . . . somewhere.

H
eutzin held true to his word. Pepper found an almost knightly suit of armor waiting when he returned to the workshop. He set his crutch up against the door and flopped down on the wheeled chair to scoot his way up to it. They’d even mounted a helmet on it.

Pepper checked it over, and then plugged the visor in to boot it up and run it through diagnostics. And damn if it didn’t keep failing its integrity tests. Leaks. All the different parts and the adjustments to make them fit Pepper, even with him being so thin, and they still didn’t have a proper groundsuit for him.

“These are the best seals we can get?” Pepper looked at Heutzin.

“You took all the spare part suits down yourself. It still isn’t sealing?”

Pepper leaned in close at the suit. The seals could be replaced, but the low-tech crap Yatapek made didn’t self-lubricate, so the suit’s mobility would be nil. He’d break the new seals trying to move around. He needed the nanoscale frictionless seals, but they were letting air in after decades of use.

That wouldn’t work for getting down to the surface.

Another Aeolian city had broadcast images of the Swarm invading. Bloodied corpses stumbling toward people with blind, rabid purpose. In the video Pepper saw that the Aeolians who kept shooting back at them could hardly keep a line in the chaos. The Swarm moved implacably closer now, city by city.

He considered stealing a working suit. But looking at the extensions Heutzin and he had also grafted on to fit his height, he doubted any of them would work. He would have to be thankful for mobility.