Joseph Lewis: Halcyon

“We hear that a lot.” Taziri glanced at him. “Please don’t touch anything, sir.”

He grunted and took his arm off the console. “Quick to launch, too.”

Taziri nodded. “Major, if you don’t mind my asking, what exactly is the plan? Even if we find the Copper Crake, I can’t force them to land.”

“I know. That’s why I only brought one man with me.” Syfax stared out through the wide windows at the perfect blackness outside. The cockpit lights were just bright enough to keep his eyes from focusing on whatever lay below them. “We’re just backup at this point. I’m counting on the police in Port Chellah to spot the Crake and intercept the ambassador.”

“Do you think the ambassador was kidnapped?”

“Maybe. Maybe Hamuy turned on her. Or maybe he was following her orders. Too early to say, really. Blowing up a few engines and killing a bunch of passengers is a good way to scare people, keep them from traveling, that sort of thing. Standard terror tactic these days. We had something similar down in Acra a few months ago. Pastoral extremists.”

Taziri looked up to her right at the small mirror mounted on the wall where she could see the cabin behind her. “Back in the hangar, he didn’t even say anything.”

Syfax nodded slowly. Here it comes.

“He just walked up to her and stabbed her. He didn’t even hesitate. He just stabbed her. She wasn’t even armed.” Taziri took a long, deep breath and exhaled against her scarf. “You hear about these things happening in Persia or Songhai. But it doesn’t happen here. Not even in the riots. Stabbing a woman in the face? You don’t see that. You don’t even hear about that. Ever.”

“I know.”

“I’m sure you do, major.” She looked back at him.

“Listen, I want you to put Hamuy out of your mind, Ohana.”

“Out of…?” Her hands shook above the controls for a brief moment, snapping into fists, and then gripping the sticks again. “He’s lying right there. He’s right there behind me. The man who…and I-”

Syfax nodded. “Ohana, I get it. Trust me. There’ll be plenty of time for Hamuy later. He’s not going anywhere, and your captain has the best doctors in Tingis patching her up as we speak. But right now I need you to focus on flying this boat. Can you do that for me?”

She swallowed. “Yes, sir.”

“Good. How’s that arm?” He nodded at her left hand.

She wiggled her fingers on the throttle. “Fine, sir.”

They sat together in silence, staring out into the darkness below the wide curve of the gas envelope. Grassy hills and swaying trees slid past them to port while the distant glitter of moonlit waves to starboard revealed the Atlanteen Ocean churning and foaming from the shore out to the end of the world. When his eyes finally adjusted, Syfax picked out the pale line of the railway snaking along the coast and the flickers of light in cottage windows on the slopes above the beaches. Small fishing boats dotted the sands, their mooring lines stretching up to the rocks. A few clouds hid patches of stars, but he could see well enough to tell that the Crake was nowhere in sight.

Less than an hour passed before the doctor thumped up behind them and sniffed loudly. Evander wiped at the stains on his fingers with a filthy rag. “I’ve done all I can for the moment. He’ll live, for a while at least. How long, I can’t say. In a hospital, maybe a few weeks. Here?” The doctor shrugged. “I gave him something for the pain.”

Taziri looked back. “He’s not in any pain?”

“I didn’t say that.” Evander smirked. “He’s conscious, more or less. You can try talking to him, for what it’s worth.”

“Thanks, doc.” Syfax stepped back into the cabin. Hamuy’s good eye wasn’t quite open, his breathing was quick and shallow, and his fingers were trembling. As Syfax knelt down, he pressed his palm against his prisoner’s chest. “Medur Hamuy, I’m Major Zidane.”

The man grunted. “Redcoat.” His voice was all phlegm and gravel.

“That’s right. I bet you don’t like Redcoats, do you?”

“Don’t like any of the queen’s dogs. Least of all you, Zidane. I heard about you. What the hell are you doing in that coat? Not enough girls ordering you around in the army?” Medur grinned, and then suddenly screamed, his bloodshot eyes bulging from their sockets and he twisted to stare at his right hand.

“Kenan.” Syfax glanced over his shoulder. “Watch where you’re stepping.”

“Sorry, sir.” The corporal removed his boot from Medur’s bandaged fingers and grinned sheepishly. “I guess I wasn’t looking.”

Did he do that on purpose? I still can’t tell if this kid’s a goofball or a serious player. Syfax turned his attention back to the man on the floor. “Now, Medur, tell me about what happened tonight. The train station. The airfield. You gone all pastoral now? Down with the machine menace and all that?”

“What do you think, Zidane?” Hamuy stared dully at the ceiling, wheezing. “It was a job. A little fire, a little wet work. Easy money.”

“Not easy enough. You should see your face,” Syfax said. “You killed a dozen civilians and put three dozen more in the hospital. All the trains are stuck behind a pile of twisted steel and only this airship survived. Who paid you? Ambassador Chaou? What was the big plan?”

“Yeah, she paid me. Not enough for this shit though.” Hamuy coughed, his whole body convulsing with each hack and gasp. “I dunno what her plan was, but my plan was to get away and get paid. Didn’t plan to get roasted.”

“Nah, I guess not.” Syfax watched the man’s trembling fingers. How much of this is an act? How dangerous is he still? Well, if the reports from Numidia are anything to go by, pretty dangerous. Syfax considered the thin cords wrapped around Hamuy’s wrists. “Tell you what. How’s about we get you into something less comfortable?” He tugged a pair of steel handcuffs from his coat pocket. “Doc, stand back. Kenan, roll him over. Lieutenant Ohana?”

She looked up at him in the mirror by her head. “Major?”

“We could use a hand back here.” Syfax pointed at the man under his knee.

Taziri took her time extracting herself from the pilot’s seat and stepping back into the cabin. She said, “I should really stay at the controls.”

“I’m just switching his cords for cuffs. It’ll only take a second.” Syfax leaned back. “Kenan?”

Kenan grabbed the prisoner’s arm and flipped him over to lie face down. The corporal leaned forward, putting his full weight on Hamuy’s shoulders. The prisoner grunted and coughed. “Ready here, sir.”

Syfax yanked Hamuy’s hands up and pulled a thick bladed knife from his belt. “Ohana, sit on his legs.”

Taziri nodded and pinned Hamuy’s feet to the floor. “Okay.”

Syfax cut away the cords to reveal two bruised wrists. In that same instant, the legs beneath Taziri’s knee snapped up and she toppled forward into Syfax and the two fell over onto Kenan. Hamuy bucked at the waist and again at the knees, flopping like a fish on the deck while two men and a woman scrambled and tumbled on his head and back. It only took him a moment to get his hands under him and the prisoner surged up from beneath all three of his jailers, roaring. Syfax shoved Taziri toward the back of the cabin as he stood up and buried his fist in Hamuy’s stomach. The burned man folded, but grabbed the major’s coat to hold himself up. He swung at Syfax’s head, but Syfax grabbed the fist in midair and twisted it around behind Hamuy’s back. The prisoner screamed and Syfax felt the sickening crustiness of the man’s burned flesh sliding between his fingers. He slapped his other hand across Hamuy’s forehead and bent his head back, baring his burnt throat.