The Airship Aurelia (The Aurelian Archives) (27 page)

              She lost track'a how many rungs they put beneath them; all she could really think about after a time was water, and fresh air, and the others and whether or not they were alright. Horrific pictures'a what might be at the top'a the shaft tried to sneak in, but she banished them with thoughts'a bein' back on Aurelia, safe in her cabin with the Afterquin, listenin' to Da's favorite string quartet music while she tinkered……the climb went on and on…

             
Until suddenly, her head bucked into Hayden's boots, and she realized he had stopped and was slidin' the manhole cover off the tunnel exit. Wild flashes turned him into a deep red silhouette against a lighter red sky as he unsteadily stepped up to the next rung and looked out on the desert.

             
“There’s nothing there,” he said, his voice flooded with relief. He clumsily hurried outta the pipe and then helped Po up with a hand.

             
The goggles transformed the barren landscape. Yesterday, Po couldn't see two feet in front'a her face. With the goggles, she could see miles and miles'a rollin', empty sand dunes and lines'a A-shaped lightnin' towers leadin' up to the foot of a jagged mountain range, shaped like a fence'a broken glass. The lightnin' seemed dimmer now, and every stroke burned white. It was almost beautiful.

             
Hayden pointed off to the right, at a tiny blotch'a darkness on a rise'a sand maybe two or three miles away. Two or three miles. That was a long stretch to cross without meetin' anythin' alive…anythin' that wanted to kill them.

             
This time, it was Hayden who took her hand and started them forward together. Their feet shuffled like a breeze through the sand. It was the only sound, except for once, when lightnin' grew from the sky like a tree branch and struck a tower with a quick
zzztt
. Sparks floated from the tower, iridescent flower petals.

             
One mile. Two miles.
The Aurelia
took definition, the profile'a her wings, the snout'a her bridge. Po's heart began to pound in anticipation, louder, it seemed, than anythin' else in the whole desert.

             
A human scream cut across the desert, and Po and Hayden dropped to their bellies on the downside of a dune. Breathin' raggedly, Hayden went up to his elbows to peer out into the night while Po stayed curled beside him, scared dizzy.

             
“Wh-where'd it come from?” she whimpered. He didn't answer, but his arm started tremblin' next to hers. “Hayden?”

             
“The Pool. The one the others went to look at last time, remember?”

             
“That's where the Rippers were,” she remembered, and with a gulp that tried to stick in her throat, carefully crawled up to join him.

Hayden pointed.
“It was too dark for us to see last time. But look. That cluster of lightning towers.”

             
She squinted, and almost mistook the thin crack'a darkness at the foot'a the towers as a scratch across her goggle lenses. “What is it?”

             
“I think it's the lightning mine. That's where they take their prisoners. Scarlet and the others could be in there right now.” To Po’s horror, he started to rise, almost as if he meant to go look.

             
She clutched his clammy arm and clung to it desperately. “Hayden, no! Cap'n said—”

             
“There's something else,” Hayden said, deadpan. She wished she could see his eyes; the emotion on the rest'a his face was near impossible to read. It might'a been hopelessness. “The Pool is above the lightning mines. When a prisoner can't work anymore…or has the death penalty…he gets sent up to the Pool.” She stared at him. “To the Rippers, Po. The mines are Leto City's stockpile of expendable bodies. It's part of their truce with the Rippers. So long as they send up a victim once every few days—”

             
“Please,” Po breathed, thinkin' she might be ill. “I don't wanna know any more.”

             
After a moment, Hayden nodded towards
The Aurelia
, and she followed him in a crawl to the bottom'a the slope, where they stood and started forward at a jog. The scream, which had long ago faded to silence, still stung in Po's ears. She hadn't recognized the voice…but Reece's could come next, or Gideon's, or Scarlet's. What terrified Po the most was realizin' they wouldn't even be able to hear Nivy's. She could be screamin' right now.

             
They topped the next dune, and not ten feet away, climbin' the dune towards them, was a Ripper. Its fanned ears stood upright in surprise for an instant, its pure white eyes widenin', and then it opened its maw and screamed at them.

             
“Split!” Hayden cried, and darted left while Po dove right. The Ripper's muscle-corded neck twisted back and forth as it tried to decide who to chase, and then it went for Hayden.

             
Po knew her wits had finally cracked when she started chasin' it chasin' him. “No!” she screamed. “No! Hayden!”

             
Hayden bellowed and weaved back and forth, tryin' to shake the Ripper as it galloped on his heels. Strangely, as Po chased it, the sound'a its long, flat paws beatin' the earth seemed to grow louder.

             
“Po!” Hayden's voice cracked hysterically. “
Behind you
!”

             
Her lungs goin' cold, Po glanced over her shoulder and shrieked. Another Ripper—a monstrously big Ripper, easily bigger than a horse—snapped its jaws at her back; she felt a whip’a slaver splash against her cloak.

             
Up ahead, Hayden's Ripper pounced, its front paws thuddin' into his back and takin' him to his stomach on the ground. Po's strangled scream died in her throat as the giant Ripper swiped and smacked her into the air. She flew a good ten feet before she landed in a puff'a sand beside Hayden, her back feelin' like it'd been taken to with the world's largest cricket bat.

             
Gaspin', Hayden rolled over, and they lay together on their backs, starin' up in stunned horror at the pair'a Rippers standin' over them, their canine mouths almost seemin' to grin. Slowly, the bigger Ripper lowered its snout and snuffed at Po's braid, her neck, her face. She whimpered. Its breath smelled like blood.

             
CRACK
.

             
A gunshot brought up the Rippers' heads; growls rumbled deep in their chests. Po couldn't believe it when they started backin' away from her and Hayden, their ears pressed flat against their hairless skulls.

             
“Now, git,” a voice, the warmest, most welcome, most wonderful voice in the world ordered, and the Rippers, with one last regretful glance at Po and Hayden, turned and trotted away.

             
Po's first attempt at gettin' to her feet failed, but she scrambled back up and with a half-sob, half-laugh, jumped at Mordecai with a hug. Smilin' as he freed his arms, Mordecai sheathed his revolver and patted her on the head.

             
“There, there, darlin,” he said kindly. “You made it. Knew you would. Hayden, boy, you alright?”

             
Hayden, lyin' spread-eagle and motionless in the sand, said in a thin voice, “You told them to go…and they just…went.”

             
Mordecai let Po hang on his arm as he leaned over and with a grunt, pulled Hayden up by his elbow. Twenty feet behind him, a hopeful rectangle'a photon light stood out against Aurelia's dark hulk—an open door to safety. “Afraid it's a little more complicated than that. But come on inside. We've got company, and it'd be rude to leave them waitin'.”

XIII

What Means Me

             
The first thing Hayden noticed upon tiredly shambling into Aurelia was the twelve Letoian soldiers sitting back-to-back in the middle of the cargo bay. Then he noticed they were bound and gagged, and that most of them looked as though they'd just come out of a street brawl, with swollen lips, bloodied noses, and bruising eyes.

             
Mordecai whistled cheerfully as he closed the door. “Don't mind them,” he said when he noticed Hayden staring. “Just don't get too close. They're kinda mean.”

             
“How did you…” Hayden hesitated, not sure he wanted to know. “Are any of them…”

             
“Shot? Nah. That was Ms. Ashdown's condition to followin' Reece's plan. No one dies.”

             
Reece's plan. Head spinning, Hayden dragged himself to the crate furthest from the soldiers and sat before his knees could give way. Suspicions about this supposed plan had been flowering in his head since the up-downs, and if even half of them were right…he'd been used. He knew that much.

             
“She won't be real happy with Gideon, then,” Po said distractedly as she edged around the soldiers, following Mordecai across the cargo bay like she refused let him out of her sight again.

             
Mordecai stopped at a winding metal staircase, picked up some sort of mechanical paddle that slid on a strap over his gnarled hand, and then turned to Po with it, face grim. “Best we not say anymore till those broadcasters are taken care of.” With a wince, Po reluctantly offered out her hand, palm up, and let him press the paddle into it. She gave a shudder like a chill had run through her as Mordecai lifted the paddle and turned to Hayden.

             
Hayden listlessly held his hand out to the paddle, and a static shock seemed to shoot up his arm, into his chest, and down through his stomach, tingling.

             
“All done,” Mordecai declared, satisfied. He gently replaced the paddle on a stair before picking up two canteens of water from the next one down. He tossed one each to Po and Hayden. “Now. Tell me what my grandson's gone and done now. Did he kill himself some soldiers?”

             
Hayden's few halfhearted swigs from the canteen didn't taste nearly as good as they should have in his dry mouth. “Just one. But Mordecai…”

             
The old Pan looked up sharply at his tone, and for a second, Hayden saw a shade of the Mordecai from Gideon's campfire stories—not the friendly, eccentric old gunsmith, but the most feared Handler at the Battle of Peleg's Run, who had singlehandedly eliminated the two dozen Glaucans that had gunned down his daughter, Gideon's aunt.

             
“What's happened to him?” Mordecai asked, his tone low, almost menacing.

             
Hayden had no illusions that Mordecai would ever hurt him…but he was a little nervous for the Letoian soldiers.

             
Shooting Hayden a distressed look, Po put a hesitant hand on Mordecai's arm and said, “He got hit, helpin' us find you. He made us keep goin'.”

             
“He was fine when we left him,” Hayden added. “The bullet hit his shoulder, but it as a clean shot.”

             
The dark cloud lifted from Mordecai's face—and from the rest of the cargo bay, it seemed—as he nodded thoughtfully. “Sure he's still fine, then. Us Creeds, we've got hides like leather.” Clicking his tongue, he reached into his waistcoat pocket and pulled out a scuffed pocket watch, checking the time. “We've got a few hours yet. I expect you'll be wantin' an explanation, in the meanwhile.”

             
“Yes,” Hayden said firmly—more firmly than he must have realized, because Mordecai's white eyebrows rose up his forehead, doubling his wrinkles. Hayden flushed, but continued. “But I don't think we have a few hours for anything. Even without the broadcaster links, Petric must know where we are. She probably has more soldiers on their way here now.”

             
“Oh, I don't doubt that,” Mordecai mumbled as he worked on lighting the fat, half-smoked cigar he’d plumbed from his pocket. “But I
do
doubt said soldiers will make it two steps past the perimeter'a Rippers.”

             
Hayden and Po exchanged a bewildered look. “The perimeter of—”

             
“Rippers.” Smoke slithered out with Mordecai's unruffled words. “I've had a word with them, and they ain't too keen on Mayor Petric's plan either. They've got such a nice arrangement as is…if Petric runs, it'll be a blow to the Rippers as much as the Letoians. So they've agreed to keep their eyes peeled. They want us and our ship gone as fast as we can manage.”

             
Hayden felt like he had an apple caught in his throat that he couldn't quite swallow, stopping up his words as he stared, flabbergasted, at the old man.
He had had a word with them
?

             
“Mordecai,” Po said unsteadily as she took a seat on the crate next to Hayden, “how did you—”