Cipher Hill

by Joseph R. Lallo

  “That’s the cavalry we been waitin’ for.”

  #

  “Eeeeeeeheeheeyaaaaaah!” Lil wailed. “Keep up, Nita, we’re nearly there!”

  In another place, Lil, Nita, and the people they’d recruited would be charging to the scene on horses. But this was the fug, and if there were any horses left down here, they certainly couldn’t find them. Instead, Lil and Nita sat astride the twisted mountain-lion-size monsters that the fug had made of squirrels. They bounded across the ground with astonishing speed, the so-called squarrels barely seeming to touch the ground.

  “I’m doing my best!” Nita said, pulling up aside Lil.

  Nita was huddled low, gripping the saddle and reins with both hands to stay in place. Lil rode high and wild-eyed, one hand on the reins and the other waving a notched machete.

  The two squarrels leaped in opposite directions, avoiding a line of fléchettes that chewed up the ground.

  “It ain’t nothin’ at all to ride one of these! The darn things dodge the spikes all on their own! You just gotta—oh heck!”

  Her steed continued its bounding turn, choosing to retreat rather than face the hissing guns. She wrestled it back around and caught up with Nita.

  “We’ve got to take out the guns,” Nita said. “Slice the steam lines!”

  “You heard her, boys!” Lil said. “Cut them lines! Or just off the fellas at the triggers. That’ll do it too!”

  The dozen hired men atop their own squarrels spread out and sped up. Without missing a step, the squarrels reached the base of the wall and leaped onto the wood-and-steel structures, dashing up along them. In the blink of an eye, they were over the wall. Nita guided hers back down and along the inside. She shakily drew a machete of her own and hacked through steam lines as she passed them. Lil and most of the others took the more direct approach, letting the crazed squarrels put their chisel teeth to good use on the gun operators who were brave or foolish enough not to abandon their posts.

  The air was little more than the deafening roar of the wall guns, but one by one the weapons were silenced.

  #

  “That’s all she’ll take,” Coop said, fighting with the controls to little avail. “Engines are shot.”

  “What?” Digger said, a canister in hand. “What do you mean?”

  “Ain’t so tricky to work it out,” he said, spinning some valves.

  With the steering and propulsion out of order, the last evasive maneuver available to him was to vent what was left of the phlogiston and dive toward the rooftops of the facility.

  “But what will we do?”

  “Get off and start huckin’ them things from the rooftops. Plus, without havin’ to fly, I’ll be able to use the ol’ rifle.”

  “But the rest of the crew will be trying to destroy the very buildings we’re standing on!”

  Coop readied his rifle and stood. “If I was you, I’d be more worried about bein’ killed by the fellas who work here. They’re the ones who’ll be tryin’ harder to do it.”

  “When I started working to build the Ichor Well, I always assumed I was risking my life, but I never supposed this is how I would die!”

  “It’s what I was expectin’ for me, more or less. This looks like a good spot to jump. Try to roll when you land.”

  Coop dropped off the deck and landed with the skill of a circus tumbler, rolling twice and landing on his feet. Digger’s landing was a graceless thump, but he managed to climb to his feet in time to see their ship crash into the rooftop just ahead of them, smashing through and vanishing inside.

  Digger inched closer to the hole and gazed inside as Coop took potshots at the nearest ships. The remnants of the ship had taken to flame and faintly illuminated the crates piled on the shelves of the storehouse they’d chosen as their landing pad.

  “Different roof! Different roof!” he yelped, dashing past Coop and hurling himself across a narrow alley to the next building. His landing wasn’t much better, but this time he remembered to roll.

  “Now you’re gettin’ it!” Coop said, hopping over to join him. “What put the spring in your step?”

  “That warehouse is full of powder kegs!” Digger said.

  “Oh. I reckon we better keep runnin’ then.”

  #

  Nita held tight with her legs and tried to keep from being thrown from the squarrel’s back as a building near one wall exploded in a massive fireball. The dashing creature had taken her most of the way around the wall. The men behind her had pulled ahead of her, and the other half of their group had gone the other way round. As far as she could tell, all of the wall guns were silent. Ahead, she spotted Lil whipping toward her from the other direction.

  “There you are, darlin!” she called.

  Nita tugged hard on the reins and just barely managed to persuade her squarrel to come to a stop. Lil’s maddened steed required a bit more coaxing, very nearly spilling her from its back before grinding to a stop.

  “These things are a blast,” Lil said, nearly as out of breath as her squarrel. “Too bad there ain’t room on the ship to keep one!”

  “First thing’s first, Lil. Now that the guns are down, we need a new target. Where are the rest of the riders?”

  Lil looked about. “Dang it! I reckon they decided to start collectin’ the rest of their payment.”

  “You think they’re robbing this place in the middle of all this?”

  “They’re the ones that got the bright idea to ride these things. I reckon they ain’t quite right in the head,” Lil said. “But we still got ours. We just gotta work out what to point ’em at.”

  They scanned the sky, blinking at the rain that was beginning to come down much harder.

  “You reckon we oughta work out a way to blow some of these boilers?” Lil asked.

  “I don’t think we can risk getting too close to them right now. The amount of damage the Wind Breaker and the others have done has probably got them ready to blow already. Not to mention that if we go inside, we’re likely to get caught in the bombardment.”

  Lil nodded. “Hope these fellas worked that out, or they ain’t gonna be bringing home any of their loot.”

  Massive engines roared. At the edge of the facility, the mammoth main envelope of one of the dreadnoughts was rising into the air.

  “I think we have our target,” Nita said.

  “We’re the ground support, darlin’. I wouldn’t mind tallyin’ up another dreadnought for the crew, but I don’t think a squarrel’s the thing to do it.”

  Nita looked about. Her gaze settled in the center of the facility. “Then we’ll need something else…”

  #

  Mack’s jaw tightened as he listened to fresh shots patter against the envelope. The turbines were in bad shape, and though Donald and Kent were keeping the enemy airships busy, each time one of them was disabled or damaged badly enough, it would simply set down and transfer its crew to another of the hundreds ready to go.

  He ran through the complex formula of damage received to damage delivered. The facility was already in bad shape, but so were his own ship and crew. The battle wasn’t going to go their way if they didn’t do something to change the game.

  “Gunner,” he said, “refresh my memory. Which of those dreadnoughts issued them orders?”

  “North end of the courtyard,” he said.

  “You reckon that voice we heard was our man?”

  “I wouldn’t doubt it.”

  “With whatever life this ship’s got left in her, I think we’d best keep him from headin’ out before we’re through with him.”

  “Taking down another dreadnought would certainly secure us a place in the history books, Captain.”

  “Only if someone lives to tell the tale. So get shootin’.”

  Gunner pivoted the portable cannon and fired a rather mundane explosive shell, knocking a blade from one of the engines.

  “It’ll take more than that, Gunner.”

  “Good news then, because I’ve got mor
e.”

  He reloaded. Mack tried to maneuver the ship to bring the main cannons to bear and avoid the scattered shots from the laughably undersized crew of the dreadnought. The turbines were all but seized.

  “Wink! Nikita!” he bellowed.

  Two chittering forms appeared as if by magic, no doubt having hidden themselves somewhere on the deck to avoid the chaos.

  “Dr. Prist, you got any more of that stuff for washin’ out the turbines?”

  “Some,” she said, throwing open a second smaller case and holding up some small jars.

  “Inspectors, get up there and dump that stuff in them turbines. We can’t afford to have ’em quit just yet.”

  Wink chittered irritably, but snatched a jar and followed his orders. Nikita hesitated a bit longer before steeling herself and following suit.

  “If they pull this off and you don’t do more damage, I’m thinkin’ of makin’ Wink my new first mate, Gunner.”

  “Just so long as it isn’t Coop,” he said, taking aim once more.

  #

  Nita held on for her life as her squarrel scampered up along the superstructure of the central gantry. Guiding the creatures was something of a wrestling match unless you happened to want to go in the same direction they wanted to go. As it happened they mostly wanted to go upward, so her steed was leaping and scrabbling almost faster than she could handle. When it reached the top, it dug its claws deep and came to a sudden and complete stop, sending her launching up over its head. She thumped down onto the roof of the gantry with a clank and clatter. The moment she was free of its back, the thing bolted.

  A moment later, Lil’s steed caught up. She managed to stay in her saddle.

  “Your critter’s gettin’ away. You want I should catch it?” Lil asked.

  “If I never ride another one of those, it’ll be too soon,” Nita said.

  Now that she was on top of the huge mechanism, she was able to take in its features in greater detail. From a distance it looked like little more than a rolling tower. Now she saw that large, articulated crane booms hung off either side, each dangling hydraulic grippers. She’d passed a more complex set of rails and grippers underneath, so large that the entire gondola of an airship was currently suspended, not quite finished being constructed.

  She spotted a hatch and thumped over to it. When she reached for it, the latch shifted and an unfortunate worker heaved it open. He was met with a wrench to the side of the head and tumbled back inside.

  “Ain’t nobody works a wrench like you, Nita,” Lil said.

  Nita dropped inside, tool in hand and ready to wallop anyone else. Fortunately, the only crewman present was now dazed on the floor at her feet. Unfortunately, that meant there was no one to tell her how to operate the gantry. The control room, which was as large as the gig room on the Wind Breaker, was completely packed with switches, levers, and valves. Back home, this would have been operated by a crew of free-wrenches like herself.

  “What’s your plan? You need me for anything?” Lil called.

  “I’m not sure yet,” Nita said.

  She dashed to the center of the room, where a sturdy grating opened to the dizzying drop to the ground of the facility. The only thing between her and a fatal fall was the iron mesh and the half-constructed prow of the ship suspended beneath. She glanced out the window and saw the field of finished ships. Several were beginning to rev their propellers in preparation for their maiden battle against the Wind Breaker.

  Nita looked over the controls. The fug folk were far from numerous, particularly in comparison to the massive amount of land that lay beneath the fug. Most of their machines and vehicles were designed to be operated by a skeleton crew. This one would be no different. Though the sheer quantity of controls was daunting, Nita knew there had only been one operator, and thus it could be operated by only one person. She swept her eyes across the faded labels. Two levers produced little more than worrisome grinding, but a third caused the claw at the end of one of the boom arms to reel out.

  A smile came to her face. “Lil! Do you think you can get that claw there hauled down to the boat hanging underneath this tower?”

  “Sure, if you give me a minute!” she called back.

  “Good! Then I think I can keep the odds a little more balanced for the Wind Breaker.”

  Lil and her steed scampered out along the boom arm and down to the claw. As Lil pulled a rope from her saddle and set about affixing it to the claw, Nita turned her attention back to the controls.

  “Now I just have to make sure I don’t tear this thing apart before I can pull off the plan…”

  #

  “That’s it. Fresh out of goodies,” Donald said, pitching the last of his canisters overhand onto the deck of a passing ship.

  “You’ve got a rifle. Start shooting,” Kent said.

  “Seems sort of a letdown to switch to regular bullets.”

  The engines ground to a stop.

  “New plan then. Let’s find us a place to land this thing where we aren’t liable to get killed.”

  Donald peered down and noticed a pair of squarrel riders rushing by, heavily loaded down with stolen goods.

  “What with the wildlife and the explosions, I don’t fink we’re going to find a place like that.”

  “Then get ready to run, because here comes the ground.”

  The hull struck the courtyard a moment later. It ground across the rough cobbles, leaving a trail of shattered steam system and shredded wood behind. When they came to a stop, the pair dismounted and took stock of their situation. The air was thick with debris and stank of the very distinctive scent of explosives at various levels of being concocted.

  At the moment there was only one ship left in the air, and that was the Wind Breaker. The assemblage of other ships that had been summoned had all been destroyed or were fleeing into the surrounding fields. Some had even landed to collect the members of the facility staff that lacked the fortitude to remain and defend it.

  Two more ships were getting ready to take off, which would leave the Wind Breaker outnumbered and, shortly afterward, outmaneuvered.

  “We’ve got to do something. Got to work out how to keep more of these ships from taking off! I don’t think there’s anyone else with any heavy ordinance,” Kent said.

  “Maybe not, but someone’s got some big ideas,” Donald said, pointing.

  Kent turned. A horrific grinding noise was steadily approaching, drowning out the sounds of battle. Finally, the huge structure of the gantry rattled into view, its turret rotating as if out of control, a half-completed hull dangling from its hook.

  “Who you do suppose is doing that? One of the Coopers?” Kent said.

  “It’s a big machine.”

  “Right, right. Nita.”

  #

  “You sure this is supposed to be happenin’?”

  Nita watched gauges creeping into the red one by one. The crane arms were rotating at a speed that very likely exceeded anything the designers had intended. As soon as Lil had tugged the claw into place, Nita had released the half-constructed ship from the gantry and turned it into a massive wrecking ball. The unbalanced weight was making the tower rock and rattle terribly, but Nita kept her eye on the cluster of ships. Two buildings unfortunate enough to have been in range of the improvised flail lost a roof and a large section of wall respectively. Finally, Nita pulled a lever, and the ship released.

  The gantry tower lurched to the side. Its projectile tumbled through the air. The hurled hull shredded half a dozen envelopes. Her aim was less than perfect, as the ship-turned-projectile missed the dreadnought. It did, however, strike the base of one of the fortified mooring towers it was still attached to. The mass of iron and wood buckled and collapsed, splaying across the deck of the ship and tangling with its rigging.

  “You done it, darlin’!” Lil crowed. “Shame we ain’t got another ship to chuck at ’em to finish the job.”

  Nita dashed about in the control room, throwing switches and twist
ing valves. An earsplitting screech from below signaled brakes activating as the rolling tower ground its way to a stop.

  “What next?” Lil asked.

  A row of spikes perforated the wall of the control room, narrowly missing Nita and sending a jet of steam spraying into the room.

  “Dang it!” Lil called. “They got someone up on one of the wall guns again. I’m going to go make ’em wish they hadn’t.”

  “No time!” Nita looked to the opposite side of the facility, at the far end of the rails.

  The second dreadnought had taken serious damage already, but not nearly enough to disable it. And it was already rising from its moorings, ready for full-scale combat.

  “We’ve got bigger fish to fry!” Nita cried.

  #

  Coop and Digger slid to a stop at the edge of the last rooftop they could reach. It had been touch-and-go for a while, as they’d dashed unseen from building to building, attempting to avoid being wiped out by the attacks of their fellow crew. But as the attention had shifted to the north dreadnought, they’d been able to slow down and pick their shots until they were out of ammunition.

  “You reckon maybe we can slip inside one of these places? Maybe they got guns and whatnot,” Coop said.

  “I don’t know how much longer it will matter,” Digger said. “It looks like the main ship is getting away.”

  Tusk’s dreadnought’s engines, though damaged by the constant attack, had spun to speed. Pipes and tubes spurted green mist as they added phlogiston to the envelope. It was rising into the sky.

  “The Wind Breaker looks like it can barely maneuver. This is not going to end well.”

  Coop narrowed his eyes. Below, two of the last airworthy ships rumbled to life. The gantry Nita had hijacked was beginning to spin again, its gripper reeling out as the whole structure approached the north end of its tracks. They were clearly trying to do something to stop the dreadnought, and the ships below were clearly intending to put an end to that plan, whatever it was. Coop had to stop them. His rifle was empty. The satchel of canisters was empty. But two ships needed grounding, so he did what all Coopers did when they were out of ideas. He just acted.

  “You oughta stay behind,” Coop said. “This is liable to be tricky.”