Chris Wooding - The Iron jackal

Malvery would have dearly liked to lie down and sleep right there. Instead, he hauled Grudge into a sitting position, put him over his shoulders, and stood up.

The landing pad was close now. It didn’t feel like he could possibly make it. But he was going to try anyway.

There was no help for it.

‘There she is!’ said Crake, pointing up into the starry sky.

And there she was, coming in over their heads: the Ketty Jay, slipping through the moonlight towards the landing pad.

Frey hefted his pack and allowed himself a private smile. She was coming in with no lights and her thrusters on minimum. Jez might have been out of it ever since Gagriisk but she still understood the need for stealth without having to be told. He could kiss that woman sometimes, assuming she wouldn’t mutate into some bowel-loosening horror and tear out his kidneys.

The Juggernaut hadn’t seen her. It was marauding away in a different direction with the landing pad to its rear. There had been a minute or two when it had come uncomfortably close, and Frey had half-expected it to destroy the treelike structure out of spite. But it seemed more interested in attacking people than indiscriminate destruction, and the landing-pad had been deserted then.

He wondered if it would take more of an interest if it saw an aircraft there, and hoped he wouldn’t have to find out.

Ugrik was jogging along beside them, his pack troubling him not one bit. Crake was unencumbered. They’d been forced to leave some of his equipment behind for the sake of speed, since they didn’t have time to pack it up. Crake had protested furiously until Frey promised to replace whatever was lost. Between that and a new Firecrow, it would wipe out all the gains he’d made from betting on Harkins in Crickslint’s race, but Frey would have promised him anything to get him moving.

They made good speed and were panting by the time they reached the base of the landing pad. There had been a certain amount of backtracking to negotiate the demolished streets, but Frey counted them fortunate to have made it the whole way without coming across a live Sammie. Still, he reckoned with all the bad luck that had come his way lately, he was owed a bit of the other kind.

‘How do we get up there?’ asked Crake, who was annoyingly spry. Ugrik had barely broken a sweat, either. It was only Frey who seemed to be suffering, which was frankly a bit unfair.

He looked up the shaft of the structure to where it split out in white branches to support the flat top. ‘Isn’t there an elevator?’ he asked plaintively.

‘Power’s out,’ said Ugrik. ‘Bet there are stairs, though.’

There were. By the time they reached the top, Frey was starting to wonder if it would have been preferable to have died at the hands of the Iron Jackal.

They emerged on to the landing pad to find the Ketty Jay idling there with her cargo ramp open. The sweet, wonderful Ketty Jay. And the rest of the crew were already here! He saw Bess disappearing inside, and Silo was ushering Pinn and Ashua after her. Between them they carried Samandra Bree, who was hopping on one foot.

Silo spotted him and hurried across. Frey was doubled over, sweaty and parched.

‘You ought to wear your damn earcuff every so often, Cap’n,’ Silo snapped. ‘Had no idea where you got to.’

‘Yeah. Uh… sorry,’ said Frey, who was a bit surprised to be spoken to that way. Then Silo hugged him, and Frey hugged him back.

Crake’s gaze had drifted to the Ketty Jay. ‘I might just go and. .. Er…’ he said, walking off.

Frey stopped him. He shucked off his pack and shoved it into Crake’s arms. ‘Here. You can carry it the rest of the way,’ he said. ‘Now go see your bloody sweetheart.’

Ugrik cackled and followed Crake into the Ketty Jay, having a conversation with himself as he went.

Frey rolled his neck and massaged his aching shoulders. ‘Everyone alright?’ he asked.

Silo’s eyes flickered downward for an instant. ‘Not everyone. Grudge went missin’. The doc went off after him.’

Frey stared at him. And you let him?

‘Only so much you can do when a man’s determined, Cap’n,’ Silo said.

He suppressed the urge to anger. Silo was right; there were plenty of times when he’d failed to stop his crew doing something daft. This wasn’t the military. And if he chewed out Silo, he’d be undermining the authority he’d given him as first mate.

‘Alright, well, it’s done,’ he said neutrally. He looked out from the edge of the landing pad. From up here the bowl of the oasis sloped away from them, and he could see the whole of the city. Most of it was in darkness and concealed by the trees, but there were still electric lights in the excavation zone, showing up swathes of ruination left by the Juggernaut. The night was lit up by a fresh string of explosions as the creature unleashed its beam again.

Silo touched his ear as if listening. ‘Yeah, he here, Jez. Still not wearing his earcuff, though.’

Frey took the hint and dug it from his pocket. ‘I’m here, Jez. What’s up?’

‘What’s up?’ she cried. ‘Have you seen that thing? Can we get out of here yet?’

Frey’s face became hard. It could only be a matter of time before the Juggernaut spotted them. And if it chose to fire that terrible beam their way, they’d never have time to take off before the landing pad collapsed.

Silo had the same thought. ‘What you wanna do, Cap’n?’

What did he want to do? The brief hours of freedom he’d felt in the desert were long gone now. The burden of captaincy was on him again. The doc could well be dead. Waiting for him might easily doom them all. But abandoning Malvery? Could he really do that, even for the sake of the others?

No. If there was one thing this whole sorry mess had taught him, it was that they were meant to stick together. His crew had followed him here, even after he tried to leave them behind. He couldn’t repay that loyalty by betraying the doc.

‘We wait,’ he said. ‘And hope to damnation that thing doesn’t spot us.’

As if it had heard him, the Juggernaut turned its face towards them.

‘Cap’n?’ said Silo. ‘Think it just did.’

Frey felt a pit open in the bottom of his stomach as he felt its blank, dreadful regard. There was the eye that he’d seen buried beneath the foliage when he’d first arrived with Ugrik. He’d thought it was a statue then; but it was something much, much worse.

‘Hate to say this,’ said Jez, ‘but we really gotta go.’

‘Not yet,’ said Frey. ‘Fill the aerium tanks so she’s right on the edge of floating. Keep the thrusters hot and-’

‘I’m doing that already!’ she interrupted. ‘It’s coming this way!’

There was no mistaking its interest now. It was moving closer with slow, deliberate strides.

‘Anyone notice how long it takes between cannon blasts?’ Frey asked.

‘Huh?’ said Jez.

‘Well, it could level this place with that beam, but I haven’t seen it fire twice in a row without a pause, and the beam never lasts. I think it needs time to charge.’

‘I haven’t been here long,’ said Jez. ‘A few minutes, maybe. But it’s fired twice in that time.’

Frey chewed his lip. Damn it. Damn it.

‘We can move off and circle,’ Jez suggested. ‘We could come back.’

Frey’s gaze went to the power station. The hourglasses to either side were heavily cracked now. Lightning flickered over the whole building, and it was surrounded by a cloud of pallid gas that glowed with bruised colours.

If they took off, they wouldn’t be coming back. He knew that, even if Jez didn’t. He had as much responsibility for everyone else on board as he did for Malvery, and he had to get them safe.