by Lucy Saxon
‘I know what I saw,’ Shulga said through clenched teeth. ‘And I saw Aleks Vasin entering and leaving this building multiple times. He is somewhere in this city, I know that, and I will find him. Now, if you don’t step aside and let me search your shop I’ll have to do so by force.’
‘Do you have a warrant for that?’ Luka asked. ‘If your search is sanctioned and legal, then by all means you should. And if your search were legal, you’d have arrested this boy on the street if you’d really seen him.’
Shulga’s silence was answer enough, the lieutenant’s face turning an angry red.
‘I thought as much. Come back when you’ve got the king’s permission to search for this cadet you’re so obsessed with, though you still won’t find him.’
‘I am not obsessed with Vasin,’ Shulga hissed, slamming his fist into one of the shelves and knocking half the contents to the floor. ‘I am determined to bring him back and make sure he pays his dues. And I have some . . . personal grievances with him to straighten out. Bloody brat’s going to cost me my rank if I can’t find him soon. So, if you see him, old man, you tell him that I’m watching him. He’ll slip up eventually – he’s not clever.’
‘That seems to be the common theme with you military types,’ Luka replied, unimpressed by Shulga’s blustering. ‘Now, you’ve threatened me, you’ve broken my wares, and you’ve shouted at a senile old man. Anything else you want to tick off the list? Because I assure you, I will be reporting you to the kingsguard office. Maybe then you won’t have to worry about dropping rank due to a lost cadet.’
Shulga stiffened, the effort it took him not to hit Luka almost palpable. He was clearly infuriated by the old man’s lack of fear. ‘No, sir, I’ll be leaving now,’ he said. ‘Thank you for your time.’
‘Might I ask your name?’ Luka queried. ‘So I know what to put on the report, you see.’
Shulga sighed.‘Lieutenant Pietr Shulga, sir,’ he said tersely, before turning on his heel and storming from the shop.
Aleks stayed where he was, his hands shaking and his heart hammering against his ribs. ‘You can come out now, lad. I’ve locked the door, and he’s long gone,’ Luka called a few moments later. Aleks let out a long breath, rising on unsteady legs, and emerged from behind the door. Luka was standing by his workbench, arms folded over his chest. ‘Wanted for desertion, hmm? You neglected to mention that little piece of information.’
‘It never came up,’ Aleks replied drily. ‘You lied to Shulga for me. Why?’
‘Can’t say I have much respect for the military,’ Luka mused. ‘Especially not soldiers like him. More ego than sense. But it sounds like you, lad, have a lot of explaining to do.’ Aleks tensed and Luka’s expression softened. ‘Come upstairs. I’ll put the kettle on and you can tell me everything. If I’m going to be denying all knowledge of you, I want to know exactly what I’m denying.’ Without waiting for a reply, the mechanic turned to the stairs that led up to his flat. A grateful Aleks followed; stumbling across Luka’s shop really had been a stroke of luck. Maybe the gods were trying to apologise for letting him enlist in the first place. Still, as much as he wanted to trust Luka, he couldn’t tell him about the journal. He couldn’t risk it.
As soon as dinner service ended that evening and Quicksilver had been taken care of for the night, Aleks made his excuses to Raina and sprinted up to his room, locking the door and scrabbling under his mattress for the journal. Shulga had tracked him all the way across the country in order to get it back, and from the sound of things he wouldn’t be happy just to take it and leave. If the lieutenant ever caught up with him again Aleks was a dead man. He’d only read part way through the journal – he hadn’t been able to bring himself to continue any further. It had sat under his mattress for the most part, as if he could forget about it by keeping it out of sight, and eventually it would disappear. If only. Maybe he could take the journal to the kingsguard, try and turn Shulga in . . . but then they’d find out how he got it and arrest him for desertion.
If he kept it, however, Shulga would find him sooner or later. Aleks didn’t know which fate would be worse; the lieutenant killing him, or dragging him back to Rensav for the rest of his service.
Cracking the journal open to where he’d left off, Aleks’s eyes were glued to the pages, the blood draining from his face. It was clear, the point at which Hunter had truly latched on to the idea of creating the mecha-human soldiers. Pages and pages of theories on how to get the perfect balance of human and machine, plans to implement testing without the public catching on. There was a whole section devoted to Hunter’s strategy for creating his half-mecha army.
As the journal continued, Hunter wrote more and more obsessively about the mecha experiments he’d already carried out. It made Aleks sick to read about the many ways in which the early experiments had failed, and the subsequent ‘adjustments’ the scientists had made. The process used to decide the optimum age at which to start modifying children was horrifying at best.
Closing the small book with about a quarter left to read, Aleks took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. His hands were shaking. The information in that book was easily enough for someone to start repeating the process if they wanted to. It was just one step short of the actual lab reports themselves. Was that why Shulga had the journal? Storms, Aleks hoped not. Siberene was still scraping itself back together after the Independence War; they didn’t need what had happened in Anglya to happen to them.
It was pitch black when he looked out of the window and the clock declared it to be nearing midnight. As tempted as he was to read on, Aleks didn’t think he could stomach it; he’d reached the part where Hunter started describing the ‘further experiments’. Replacing limbs with weapons was one thing, but entire bodies and brains . . . he couldn’t take it. Maybe he’d finish the journal one day, but not today, not if he wanted to keep his dinner in his stomach. Journal securely back in place under his mattress, Aleks tried to keep his mind off the things he’d read, but sleep didn’t come easy for him that night. One thing was certain; he was living on borrowed time.
13
The day after Shulga’s unexpected visit, Aleks turned up at the workshop only to be ushered straight out again. Luka had a bulging satchel slung over one bony shoulder and was grinning widely. He looked almost demented, and Aleks eyed him warily. ‘Turn around, lad, you’re coming with me.’ The elderly man already had his thick coat and gloves on and was pulling a hat over his bushy white hair. He had hardly reacted to Aleks’s tale the day before, merely calling him a stubborn fool. But it was clear that he wasn’t going to turn Aleks in, which was all that mattered.
‘What? Where are we going?’ Aleks asked, perplexed. The satchel looked like it contained some sort of awkwardly shaped device, possibly the machine Luka had been working on sporadically for the past couple of days.
‘Doesn’t matter, you’ll find out when we get there. Now hurry up – you’re wasting daylight!’ Despite his apparent age, Luka was incredibly sprightly and Aleks found himself jogging to keep up.
They arrived at the nearest tram station, and Aleks’s brow furrowed. Where could they possibly be going that was so far it required a tram journey? They weren’t all that far from the shipyard, and Luka had barely left the shop in all the time Aleks had been working there. Still, he kept his questions to himself and obediently followed his boss to buy a ticket, then joined the queue to board. Luka’s knee bounced impatiently throughout the journey, his eyes flitting about nervously, and Aleks couldn’t help but wonder at the man’s strange mood. He cradled his satchel like it held the secret to the universe, his suspicious gaze landing on anyone who got even remotely close to it.
Finally, Luka stood up, gesturing for Aleks to follow him towards the tram doors. Aleks squeezed between two people in order to get out when the tram came to a steady halt, running a few steps to catch up with Luka. ‘Could you not slow down for two seconds and explain to me where we’re going?’
‘Wha
t? Can’t you keep up with an old man?’ Luka retorted playfully, slipping behind a low stone building and taking a narrow alley away from the main part of the city. As far as Aleks was aware, they were in the storage district – judging by the many warehouses surrounding them – but Luka was heading away from it, towards the very edge of the city’s walls. ‘We’re almost there, anyway. Just a bit further.’ Aleks huffed, but kept walking, ducking his head against the fierce winds; were they near the coast?
As it turned out, there was no actual wall at the border of the city. The only distinct difference between the city and the land outside was the abrupt transition from paved streets to grass and dirt paths. The old man took off without hesitation down a rocky path, leaving Aleks no choice but to keep chasing after him. Worry was starting to gather in his mind. Luka finally stopped in front of a tall, slightly haphazardly built warehouse and pulled a key from his pocket. ‘Come on, lad – get in before you’re blown off a cliff, for storms’ sake.’
Aleks glanced back over his shoulder, well aware that Luka’s words were less of a joke and more of a probability. He’d never been this close to the sea before. It was a deep grey-green colour, and while he wasn’t near enough to the edge to see, he could hear the waves crashing violently against the rocky cliffs, smell the sharp tang of sea air. His pulse quickened in equal parts nerves and excitement, giving him a brief urge to head closer to the cliff edge for a better look. A couple of ships flew through the thick clouds above, heading away from the city. As Luka unlocked the door, Aleks wondered where those ships were going.
The warehouse was pitch black, and Aleks blinked several times as he tried to adjust to the lack of light. Suddenly, Luka turned on bright lights without warning. White spots dancing in his vision, Aleks squinted until he could see properly again, at which point his jaw dropped. Sitting in front of him was the smallest skyship he’d ever seen; it didn’t even look flight capable, it was so small. The sails were slack and bunched against the mast, the wings were bound tightly at its sides, and the viewscreen was so low down Aleks could see into the control room. It was tiny, with only one seat and consoles piled high around it. Still, the ship was beautiful, polished until it was almost a mirror, the seams between the wood barely even visible.
‘What on Tellus is this?’ he breathed, turning to Luka, who was grinning proudly.
‘Don’t be daft, boy. Don’t tell me you’ve never seen a skyship before!’ he barked. The old man pulled the warehouse door shut behind him and grabbed the ladder propped against one wall, carefully shifting it to lean against the side of the skyship.
‘Yes, but it’s so small, surely it can’t actually be flown?’ Aleks eyed the vehicle warily. A little ship like that was sure to be blown around like a feather in the storms.
‘You’d think so, wouldn’t you?’ Luka agreed, scurrying up the ladder. He hoisted himself on deck, peering down at Aleks. ‘Are you coming or not?’ Aleks didn’t hesitate, climbing the ladder with ease and swinging over the railing to stand beside Luka. The deck seemed to contain everything a full-sized skyship had – not that he’d ever been on a full-sized skyship to compare – but Aleks could probably walk from one end to the other in about fifteen strides. He wandered over to the mast, running a hand up the shining wood, and absently wiggled the boom slightly. ‘Don’t do that, you idiot!’ Luka protested, darting over to slap his hand. ‘You don’t touch the boom while a ship is stationary – you’ll ruin the directional propellers! Don’t you know anything about skyships?’
‘Not really,’ Aleks replied.
‘Well, that’s going to make my plans significantly harder to implement. But never mind, never mind, it’s only theoretical aerodynamics. You’re a smart lad – you’ll pick it up quickly enough,’ he said, waving a hand dismissively. ‘Come on, I’ll show you round inside.’ Aleks wondered how much there could be to see, but followed Luka through the trapdoor anyway. They dropped down into a corridor that was so narrow it was almost uncomfortable, and Luka headed straight for the end opposite the control room, nudging open a door on the left. ‘Captain’s quarters,’ he announced, showing Aleks a room that was barely bigger than a cupboard, a narrow bed squeezed in one corner and a storage trunk at the foot of it.
‘Not meant for long voyages, then?’ Aleks presumed, making Luka snort.
‘Not particularly.’ Shutting the door to the tiny room, Luka then showed him the door opposite, which was a marginally bigger bedroom, with two beds and trunks inside. ‘Crew’s quarters. A ship like this isn’t meant to fly with any more than three people – one pilot, one mechanic and one backup pilot to switch shifts with the main pilot.’
‘Is that even possible?’ Aleks asked, shuffling backwards into the corridor as Luka shut the door.
‘Technically, yes. Bathroom, nothing special.’ He didn’t even give Aleks a chance to look inside before shutting the door and moving to a fourth door. ‘Galley.’ It was the biggest room in the ship so far, with a basic stove and some cupboards on one side and a rickety table with three chairs on the other. The galley didn’t look like it could store much food, and Aleks said as much to Luka. ‘Storage is downstairs, lad,’ he retorted, jerking a thumb back at the main corridor. To Aleks’s surprise, there was a trapdoor in the floor at the end of the corridor next to the bedrooms, the trap opening to lean against the wall and reveal a small hole with a ladder.
Luka went down first, Aleks following, and he was amazed once more as he found himself in the ship’s engine room. The underbelly of the ship was split into two rooms, the small one, Luka told him, was merely for storage, and the larger one was the engine room itself. The two of them could hardly move for all the pipes and gears and chains spanning the room, connecting the propellers and the wings and everything else in the control room, linking all the mechanisms to the steel furnace against the back wall. It looked about the same size as the average household furnace, which was ridiculous when you considered how much more power was needed to fly a skyship than power a home.
‘This is incredible,’ Aleks murmured, eyeing the complicated systems. He wouldn’t even know where to begin. ‘Where did you find this ship?’
‘Find it?’ Luka replied, amused. ‘I built it, lad, with my own two hands. Best eight years of my life, designing and building this beauty.’ Pride was heavy in his tone. ‘Come on, I’ll show you the control room.’ Aleks eagerly followed Luka back up the ladder and to the opposite end of the corridor, the older man allowing him to go first into the control room. There was barely space for two people in there, and Aleks couldn’t resist the urge to sit in the pilot’s seat, peering out of the viewscreen and imagining endless skies in front of him instead of the blank walls of the warehouse.
‘This is unbelievable,’ he declared, grinning as he looked around at the controls.
‘I know,’ Luka agreed. ‘She’s just about ready, just needs a last finishing touch. Then she’ll be good to get airborne. That’s where you come in.’
Aleks frowned, perplexed, as Luka clapped him on the shoulder. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I’m old, lad. I can’t fly the blasted thing myself. These hands might be good with small gears, but the strength is gone. I’d lose her in a storm within ten minutes,’ Luka told him. ‘You, on the other hand, are young, smart, fairly strong. Not going to lift a cow or anything, but strong enough.’ Aleks eyed him expectantly. ‘You might not know how to fly her yet, lad, but you will. If you’re willing to learn, of course.’
Aleks’s eyes widened. ‘You want to teach me to fly?’ he breathed excitedly. Luka nodded.
‘Don’t want her going to waste, do I?’ he reasoned, shrugging. ‘You’re a fast learner, and don’t have any preconceived notions about flying. She’ll be a bit different to a regular skyship due to her size and weight, so it’s easier to start with a fresh mind than try and retrain someone who thinks they already know what they’re doing. So, what do you say, lad – are you willing to learn?’
Aleks laughed – as if
there was even a choice! ‘Of course!’ he said eagerly, grinning. ‘I’ve always wanted to be able to fly a skyship.’
‘Hasn’t everyone, lad,’ chuckled Luka. ‘Shall we get started, then?’
Aleks froze. ‘What, now?’ he asked. Luka nodded, giving him a pointed look until he got out of the pilot’s seat. ‘I thought you said there was a last thing to do before she was finished?’
‘There is – it’s in my bag. Once we put that in, she’s ready to fly. No time like the present. It’s a beautiful day for teaching a seventeen-year-old to fly in a previously untested illegal skyship of dubious structural integrity.’
‘When you put it like that, it sounds so risk free,’ Aleks muttered under his breath. ‘What do you mean by illegal?’
‘Flying a skyship without having it registered with the Department of Vehicular Transport and Safety is illegal,’ Luka explained nonchalantly. ‘But I couldn’t let those money-hungry blockheads near my design – it’d be all over the market before I even got her back with a certificate of safety.’ Aleks winced; there was nothing worse for a mechanic than having their designs stolen before they could properly market them themselves.
‘So, basically, you’re using me as a laboratory rat,’ Aleks surmised, climbing up on to the deck after Luka.
‘That’s about right, yes,’ the old man confirmed, already halfway down the ladder to the ground, his eyes set on his satchel. ‘Any objections? You’ve broken one law already – surely you can’t be afraid of breaking another?’
Aleks looked at the ship as he climbed down the ladder; it was unlike any other skyship he’d ever seen before. And he was being given the chance to fly it. ‘None whatsoever.’
Luka grinned at him, pulling a many-pronged object with a plated gearbox in the centre out of his satchel. ‘Excellent. Let’s get to work.’
