Joseph Lewis - Halcyon

“I should. I was born here,” he said.

“Good. Where did you last see the major?”

Kenan pointed out across the field to the west where the streets flowed downhill to the waterfront. “They rode into town along the coast road. I saw them go into the older warehouses and I searched for hours before I decided to come back here. I was hoping he’d be back already.”

“Okay, then we’ll start looking there.”

“But that’s an entire city district, dozens of blocks with hundreds of buildings. Where do we actually start?”

Ghanima smiled. “The closest teahouse. They’ll have heard or seen something, I’m sure.”

Taziri watched them jog away across the airfield and disappear around a distant corner onto some dawn-kissed side street. Alone, she sat and listened to the two men snore until her belly began to grumble and she gently woke the old doctor.

He sat up and yawned. “Is it over?”

“No. I was hoping you might get us breakfast.”

“Oh.” He frowned and wiped at his eyes. “Fine.”

Evander was gone almost an hour, long enough for Taziri to begin worrying what might have happened to him when the little figure in gray appeared at the airfield gates. She took a small paper bundle from the doctor as he stepped inside. “What did you find?”

Evander sat down in his seat at the back of the cabin. “I don’t know. Some sort of tavern, I suppose. What do you call them?”

“A cafe. There aren’t any taverns in Marrakesh.”

“Whatever it was, it was a mile from here and my hip is aching. This was the only thing they had that I recognized. Leftovers from last night, they said.”

Taziri opened the bulging flatbread and found cold yams, rice, and peas. “Thank you for this.” She eased back into her seat, closed her eyes, and began to eat.

“So, do we feed him or is that against the rules?” The doctor pointed at the unconscious man on the floor as he began to shovel food into the gap in his beard.

Dear God, please give me five minutes of silence. Just five. Taziri raised an eyebrow, shook her head slightly, and continued eating.

“Did you hear me? I said-oh, sorry, I forgot you people don’t talk during meals.” Evander sniffed at his breakfast, and then resumed shoveling. “Well, I hope you don’t mind listening while you eat.”

Taziri sighed and tried to focus on biting, chewing, and tasting. Each warm mouthful slipped down into her belly and quelled the angry demons that had been plaguing her since she first leapt up from the supper table the night before. She thought about each fiber and seed entering her body, all the simple mysteries of plants, water, earth, and sunlight flowing into her flesh, the divine energy sweeping through her blood. The infinite names and faces of God traveling from one form of life to another-

“…don’t understand why these things keep happening to me. That’s the curse of being a doctor, you see, you’re too valuable to everyone. Everyone needs a doctor, sooner or later, and if you’re too good then everyone wants you personally, and you end up sailing or flying all over the world to do look at boils and infections and bloody, maggoty messes…”

Taziri slowly swallowed what was in her mouth, turned a little farther away from Evander, and continued eating with her eyes closed.

“…wasn’t so bad in those days, but after the wars with the Persians, well, you can imagine, my services were needed everywhere. They wanted me for everything, every little thing! Stabbings, burnings, limbs hacked off, some clean as a butcher’s stroke, some all torn up and ragged…”

Taziri quickly finished her breakfast and wiped her hand on her pants. “That’s a wonderful story, doctor. I’m sure you’ll do a wonderful job in Orossa.”

“If we ever get there!” Evander wiped his sleeve through his beard, removing some but not all of the food from his face. “I was hoping to arrive by noon today. Clearly, that is not going to happen. Maybe I need to find a train or something.”

“Maybe.” Taziri stood and stretched, and a shadow of movement outside caught her eye. Two men were approaching the airship from the field gates. “Doctor, stay there.” She picked up her long wrench, the one she had identified just a few hours earlier as her new favorite. The strangers were plainly dressed and clean shaven, and Taziri began to relax slightly. Then she saw long knives poking out of the men’s boots.

Evander knelt on the bench and stared through the window. “Trouble?”

“Well, they’re not the ground crew.” Taziri waited until the men were closer and then called out, “Can I help you gentlemen? I’m sorry, but we’re not taking on passengers here. You’ll need to speak to someone at the office over there to arrange tickets. I’m sure something will be available later in the week.” Then she thought of the Grebe and the Crake and realized there probably wouldn’t be another airship in Port Chellah for quite some time unless they came from the Southern Air Corps in Maroqez.

“Medur!” The men paused in the grass to shout. “You in there?”

Hamuy shuddered awake with a sharp grunt. “Eh?”

“Medur! The old cow sent us. Medur!”

Taziri glared down at the man and tried to force him to keep his teeth together with a silent prayer, but a sinking weight in her stomach told her that God wasn’t going to weld her prisoner’s mouth shut.

“Eh?” Hamuy rolled onto his side, squinting and coughing. “Baako? Is that you, you ugly sack of crap?” He grinned at the floor. “I’m in here!”

The men started forward again and Taziri grabbed the hatch and slammed it shut, spinning the lock until it clanged tight.

“What are we going to do?” The doctor pushed away from the window and sat down on the opposite side of the cabin, his back shoved against the wall.

“The only thing we can do.” Taziri fell into the pilot’s seat and started flipping switches. As the electric motors whirred to life, the two men pounded on the hatch, demanding to be let in.

“But we’re tied down to those metal pins in the ground.” Evander pointed to the mooring lines outside. “We can’t possibly take off.”

“Of course we can.” Taziri grabbed one of the heavy levers under her seat and yanked it up. With a sharp click, the mooring rings on the gondola snapped open and the ropes fell to the ground. In that instant, a brisk morning breeze caught the Halcyon, lifting it roughly from the earth and propelling it sideways across the field, away from the men, and straight toward a row of small storage buildings lining the airfield a hundred yards away.

“Uhm…” The doctor began tapping on the window as he stared at the white-washed stone structures rushing toward them. “Up? Up. More up. Up now. Go up!”

“I’m working on it!” Taziri opened the throttles and spun the propellers down. The ship bucked as the engines tried to hurl the cabin up against the huge gas envelope, and after a moment’s struggle against the forces of inertia, the craft began to rise.

“More! Up more!” As though buoyed by the Hellan’s cries, the airship clawed upward foot by foot and suddenly the grass rushing by beneath them gave way to gravel and pavement. And then a rooftop.

A demonic scream of metal scraping on stone filled the cabin as the Halcyon shuddered and rocked. The floor vibrated as the scream stretched out longer and louder. The ship twisted to starboard, shaking harder as the hull ground across the slate tiles and crashed into brick chimneys and copper stovepipes. Taziri clenched her jaw, gripping the throttles tighter and tighter, shoving them against the stops with all her strength. Her left arm shuddered and for a moment her left hand lost its grip, but she forced her fingers closed and held on. Halcyon shrieked louder.