Skykeep

by Joseph R. Lallo

There was genuine fear in Lil’s eyes. It was unsettling to see such a thing. This woman had thrown herself from the ship to slide along mooring ropes to untie them. She’d gleefully taken aim at better-armed ships and stared down people twice her size. Not only had Nita never seen Lil afraid, she’d begun to think it wasn’t possible. But now there was no question. In this moment, Lil was a frightened young woman, up to her neck in a situation she didn’t know how to handle.

  “Lil…” Nita said, again quietly enough for the guard not to hear. “This is a problem. You solve it the same way you solve any other problem. Break it into smaller pieces until the pieces are small enough to handle. We know that the crew will come for us if they can find us. So all we need to do is find out where we are and then find a way to tell them. So right now the problem isn’t escaping. It’s simply determining where the prison is located.”

  “Find out where we are…” Lil said. Slowly the fear began to drop away from her face as her mind instead grappled with the problem. “Well… that’s just navigation. They never did give me much of a turn at the ship’s wheel, but anyone who’s spent much time on an airship knows how to navigate. They had me do that plenty, because it’s easiest when you can see the whole sky, and that means scrambling up on the top of the envelope. Pretty much just me and Coop were willing to do that.” She smiled. “We just gotta get a good hard look at the night sky. Someplace where we can see the horizon, too. And we need to know the time. The more accurate the better.”

  “Okay then. Those are the smaller pieces. Get to the courtyard at night, and find a timepiece.”

  “But what do we do once we know? How do we get it to them?”

  “Hey, hey,” Nita said, placing a hand on Lil’s shoulder. “First thing’s first. Our plate is full. We can cross that bridge when we come to it.”

  Nita paused to consider her tendency to rely upon idioms to calm Lil down when their personal guard approached, prompting both of them to hush up and turn to the bars.

  “It’s yard time. Get ready to meet the rest of your fellow prisoners,” the guard said.

  #

  Neither Lil nor Nita had known precisely what to expect when they were led under heavy guard through a few halls and finally up toward the top deck of the facility. The best of the fug folk seemed rather despicable and cold. What would their prisoners be like?

  The upper surface of the prison served the purpose of its exercise yard, and while during transit they were locked up, once they were on deck the guards removed the restraints. It was just before midday, and though the sun was high in the sky, the atmosphere was thin and blustery. Nothing Lil and Nita weren’t used to from their time on the Wind Breaker, but not the sort of weather a normal person would seek out. Given the choice between it and the interior of a cell—or in Lil’s case, the interior of a dangling crate—it was a refreshing change of pace.

  By coincidence or by design, Nita and Lil were the first to reach the surface and were thus treated to the procession of other inmates, one by one. It was clear by the time the third of them had been released from his manacles that yard time was not a reward, at least not for the fug folk. Each of them squinted at the sun and shuffled into the shade of one of the envelopes as soon as they were free. Most gave a wary glance at the Wind Breaker crew and gave them plenty of space. Nita had been expecting anger, hatred, or at least distrust to be the most prevalent reaction, but instead there seemed to be equal parts fear and awe in their expressions.

  Most of the prisoners were virtually indistinguishable from the guards, save the presence of the same checkered prison garb. It took a practiced eye to tell fug folk apart, mostly because the withered and drawn features left little room for variation. Then, mixed among what turned out to be about sixty inmates, a few specific prisoners began to stand out. There were a half dozen of them who had very little in common with the others. They were all nearly a foot taller than the rest of the population, with a build that would have placed them on the lean side of average if they had been humans. For a fug person they looked positively muscle-bound. Then came the last prisoner to be released. This one was different, but it was difficult to put their fingers on why.

  “Is that… is that a woman?” Lil said, staring at the last prisoner.

  Indeed it appeared to be. She was a touch shorter than most of the other prisoners. Though she was far too lean to have any appreciable curves, there was something about the purse of her thin lips, the angle of her hips, her posture. It was subtly but undeniably feminine. And then, of course, there was her voice, which they were treated to when she noticed they were staring.

  “What the hell are you looking at?” she hollered from across the wooden courtyard in a voice a register higher in pitch than the others.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—” Nita began to reply.

  “We’re not sure! Are you a woman?” Lil cried with her usual tact.

  The fug woman strode angrily toward them.

  “Of course I’m a bloody woman,” she growled when she was near enough to not have to yell to be heard. “And what’s more, I’m a lady. Which, with manners like that, you certainly are not.”

  “I apologize for my friend,” Nita said, mortified on behalf of the group. “My name is—”

  “I know who you are. We all know who you are. You’re Nita Graus. This one here is Cooper or something similar. You are on the crew that destroyed the dreadnought.” She had a voice that lent itself very well to being aghast. It was powerful yet fragile, cracking and fluttering with her words.

  “That’s right. Don’t you forget it. I’m Lil to her,” Lil said, hitching a thumb in Nita’s direction. “But to you and all these fuggers I’m Chastity Cooper until I say otherwise.”

  “What’s your name,” Nita said, trying her best to offer a friendly face.

  “I can’t imagine it would be of any interest to you, but my name is Blanche.”

  “Since when do fuggers have women, Blanche?” Lil said, ignoring the attempted pleasantries and delivering the question as though she wasn’t so much curious as angry that she didn’t already know.

  “Need I explain biology to your little friend here?”

  “No, you don’t need to explain biology. I know about the birds and the bees, but we’ve had a lot of dealings with you folks and never have we seen a lady.”

  “Lil… maybe we can afford to be a little more polite. It wouldn’t hurt to have some friends here.”

  “That isn’t likely to happen among the civilized prisoners,” Blanche said. “I’m frankly surprised you’re still alive.”

  “You threatening me, Blanche?” Lil said, cracking her knuckles.

  “Heavens no,” Blanche said, taking a wary step back. “Not by our hands. Look at those people. Half of them are afraid you are homicidal monsters and the other is on the verge of declaring you knights in shining armor. The guards are the ones who will eventually kill you!”

  “The guards want us dead?” Lil said.

  “I’ve been in this facility for seven years. Do you think I would even know who you people are if the guards didn’t curse your names nightly? Everyone in a formal role within the establishment hates you. You took away their teeth when you destroyed the dreadnought. Or at least knocked one out in full view of the rest of the world. Thanks to you, people no longer believe they are invincible.”

  “Them having guns, you’d think if the guards wanted us dead, we’d be dead,” Lil said, casting a quick glance to the nearest guard tower. Its sharpshooter was taking aim at the women.

  “I imagine they’ll wait until they’ve gotten information out of you. Those vile cretins who make the decisions always want information.”

  “It sounds to me you’re not fond of the ‘establishment,’ either,” Nita said.

  Blanche gave Nita a condescending look. “I’ve been locked away for seven years. Do you think that would be the case if the ruling class and I had any love for one another?”

  “What’d you do?” Li
l asked.

  “My personal life is none of your concern,” Blanche said.

  “What’re you, too stuck up to—” Lil muttered, balling up her fists.

  “That’s entirely fair,” Nita said. “Would you mind answering some questions about how things work in this place?”

  “I’m not your mentor,” she said. “And if it isn’t clear, I’m one of the ones who thinks you two are monsters, so I’m not obliged to help you.”

  “Well, if you’re not going to help us…” Lil said, stepping forward and prompting another skittish retreat. Nita wrangled her back again.

  It was becoming increasingly clear that Blanche was not nearly as confident and defiant as she would have the crewmates believe. Nita didn’t need to be told why she was behaving as she was. It was for the same reason that Lil seemed to be spoiling for a fight. In the nightly chitchat that would occur whenever at least three members of the crew had wound up eating supper at the same time, the subject of how to handle oneself in prison had been a fairly common topic. Coop and Gunner had each spent brief stints in small prisons, and the captain had been somewhat evasive about the details but had certainly spent time behind bars as well. They insisted that the proper way to survive and thrive within such an environment was quite similar to how one established oneself in a rough crew of airmen. Illustrate yourself as a force to be reckoned with at the first opportunity. Start the first fight and win it. Though all three of the men swore by the tactic, Nita was not so sure. If things became rough, she wouldn’t hesitate to defend herself, but it seemed that things were difficult enough for everyone in this place that making matters worse as an icebreaker was not advisable. Besides, it was obvious they’d earned their reputations long before being locked up. Now might be a time to show a willingness to be reasonable.

  “Again, I understand. Thank you for having the courage to speak to us,” Nita said.

  Blanche eyed Nita uncertainly. “What did you want to know?”

  “Are all of those folks either scared of us or… the other one?” Lil asked.

  “Most certainly,” Blanche said with a sneer.

  “I’m going to go find out who’s on which list,” Lil said, stalking off toward one of the larger groups.

  Blanche lingered near Nita as they both watched Lil thunder toward them. When she got within a few dozen steps, she made a sudden dash toward one of the clusters, then stopped short and doubled over laughing when half of them scattered as though a bull were charging.

  “Your associate is demented.”

  “It takes a special kind of person to survive what she’s been through,” Nita said.

  “What did you want to ask? You at least wear a mask of civility.”

  “Do we have yard time at the same time every day?”

  “Yes,” she said flatly, clearly not pleased by the fact. “It is mandatory. Midday yard time, even in poor weather. One of the things they do so they can search our rooms and make sure for at least an hour a day we are miserable.”

  “Does anyone get to spend any time outside for any other reasons?”

  “Good behavior might get you the odd midnight yard time. At least then the sun doesn’t sting so much,” Blanche said.

  “What if—”

  “You’re plotting an escape,” Blanche said.

  Nita kept her expression neutral. “Pardon?”

  “I know the look. I don’t know precisely what you’re up to, but I know the sound of someone feeling around the walls of their cage, looking for loose bars. We’ve all done it. We’ve all thought we had the way out, found the weak link. There isn’t one. Your choice is die in here or die on the way out. Don’t waste your time. And if you do, don’t come anywhere near me when you make your grab for freedom. Sometimes those sharpshooters miss, and I’d hate to catch a bullet meant for you.”

  With that, Blanche turned and walked back toward the cluster of gathered fug folk beneath one of the gas bladders, notably choosing the one farthest from Lil. Meanwhile, Lil seemed to be exchanging words with the group she’d chosen to harass, and though voices were raised, it didn’t seem to be the beginning of an altercation. As would naturally have been the case, Lil had selected the group with all of the strangely large fug folk, and two of them in particular seemed to have smiles on their faces as they listened to her speak. Nita had a feeling it wasn’t wise to leave Lil to her own devices for too long, but before she joined her, she decided a quick survey of the yard was in order.

  There was little to be learned about the towers at each corner, save that they were only accessible with ladders, as downward-pointing spikes had been installed on the uprights to prevent prisoners from scaling them. As an added precaution, the ladders were in sections, and the lowest one had been hauled up from the ground. The central tower was more interesting, as it was triple the size of the other towers. Nita felt certain at least one of the scattering of shacks and rooms at the base was a supply locker. Getting into that would provide her with all sorts of potential assets to an escape attempt, but aside from the fact at least two sharpshooters could see her from whichever way she might approach, there was a chain-link fence around the base separating it from the rest of the yard. There was also that monster of a hound to contend with.

  She turned her eyes upward, following the central tower. Oddly, the anticlimbing spikes were missing from this one. No doubt they felt the fence and hound provided adequate protection. She continued sweeping her gaze upward to its pointed roof and onward to the shaft that projected from it. Along the shaft ran a thick copper cable that didn’t seem to serve any obvious purpose. The cable ran all the way to the decking and across it to the edge. The “isolation” boom had been raised now that it was not in use. She squinted a bit as she craned her neck to try to make out the very top of the shaft. It stretched beyond even the tops of the envelopes and was difficult to see with the midday sun almost perfectly behind it, but there was something at the tip. It wasn’t just a point, though there was some sort of gleaming metal rod above all else. In addition to the rod was a boxy shape, one that let the light through. It almost looked like the crow’s nest of the old sailing ships, but unless her sense of scale was off, it was far too small for a person.

  “Nita! Come here!” Lil called.

  To Nita’s relief, and mild surprise, it was a call of excitement rather than a call for help. She looked to her friend and was greeted by a wide smile and wave of her hand. Lil was now alone with the two previously smiling large fug people. Nita made her way quickly over.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “This is Donald and this is Kent,” Lil said, pointing to each of the men in turn.

  She had to point upward, because the two men were approaching seven feet tall. Their lanky limbs had visible muscle. Each man offered a callused hand that had obviously seen a bit of hard work, and Nita gave each a firm shake.

  “Guess what these guys used to do,” Lil said.

  “What?”

  “We done work at the shipyards,” said Kent, his words slow and accented with an odd, loose diction. “We were the ones what built half of what them fancy folk ride around in.”

  “I knew they made all of the boilers and stuff down in the fug, and I could never picture any of those twisty, pasty white skeletons in fancy suits doing a lick of real work,” Lil said. “It turns out there are blue-collar fuggers.”

  Nita flinched.

  “Huh-huh,” chuckled Donald. He spoke in a voice so deep it was almost difficult to understand. “She finks we fink that’s not a nice name.”

  “No one cares what you call us. We don’t because one word’s as good as another. And the bosses don’t care because they don’t care about anything anyone says but them,” Kent explained.

  “And tell her why you got locked up,” Lil said.

  “I tried to sneak repair parts to one of them cities up north. Them valves the bosses let you folks swap in and out,” Kent said.

  “I tried to cave in the head of my boss
when he tried to lock up Kent here,” Donald said.

  “In other words, these two tried to help people like us, and that’s why they got locked up! That’s the sort of people fuggers lock up. People who almost caused them to lose grip of the world even a little bit,” Lil said.

  “That’s right. There’s… how many of us, Kent?” Donald said.

  “Fifty-eight. An even sixty with these two,” Kent said.

  “Fifty-eight people in this place. And fifty-six of us’d sooner see the bosses choke on their own ties than do what they say anymore. Just about everybody on our side of the bars is glad you done what you done.”

  “Who are the two holdouts?”

  “The Ebonwhite brothers. Real snakes among snakes, them two,” Donald said.

  “Ebonwhite… isn’t that—”

  “The mayor of Fugtown. Them’s his nephews. He caught them embee… embuh… He caught them nicking coin from the city coffers and all that. Had them sent here. They’d do just about anything to be back in good with their dear old uncle again. The rest of us would like to do to him what you done to that dreadnought.”

  “I was on the crew what assembled that ship. Took us years. I never thought the old girl would go down. How did you do it?” Kent asked.

  “The bigger the boiler, the bigger the boom,” Nita said. “I have my ways.”

  “I told you the boiler’s what done it,” Donald said.

  “But the boiler was tucked away in the heart of the thing. How’d you even hit it?” Kent said.

  “It’s a long story. I suppose we’ll have time for that later,” Nita said.

  “Hey, you two. I’ve been meaning to ask you. How come you’re so much meatier than the other fuggers?”

  “We were near the center of Rim, where the fug gets thin. Didn’t get the same dose other folks got. There’s… how many, you figure? Maybe two thousand fug folk when it’s all said and done? Could be more. Anyway, maybe two hundred are like us. They have us doing most of the grunt work. Matter of fact, they usually call us ‘grunts.’”

  “But we’ve clashed with fug soldiers plenty of times, and they’re always the scrawny sort,” Lil said.