“But you know the name. Why is he chasing you?”
“That’s an excellent question. You need to ask him though.”
“Oh yes? You’ve convinced me. Prepare to stop the engines.”
“No, wait!” Guild raises a finger, with a bit of a strained smile. “As I told you, maybe we started out on the wrong foot.”
Kasia limits herself to arching an eyebrow.
“I come from very far away,” he continues. “From the other side of the ocean.”
Kasia narrows her eyes, “Don’t joke with me. No one’s crossed the Atlantic since before the war.”
“Right. However, many things have changed, in our land, over the last few years.”
“You’re American?”
“Down to the bone. I was born in the City of the Wind.”
“I have no idea where that is, but it’s been at least seventy years since we’ve had any contact. At least that’s what they say on the docks. How did you manage to cross the ocean? The few who’ve tried, and turned back, reported that the storms were impassable.”
“I was lucky. My companions less so. In fact, I’m the only survivor of a five-person expedition.”
“Unbelievable,” whispers Kasia.
“We followed the polar route. A little past the fortieth meridian we were overwhelmed. A front of clouds and thunder, high as a mountain bombarded us and made our instruments go haywire. The wind dragged us to the south, destroying our vessel and ripping three of my mates from the navigation posts they were attached to. Our wreck roamed for days without the ability to steer, a few yards altitude above the sea, which was always ready to swallow us. Terrible days. Until finally a storm dashed us against a cliff.”
“So you managed to cross?”
“It was the coast of Britain, I later learned. The waves were very high and I clung to the rocks with all my might to reach that damned beach. I waited on my team for days, but I never saw them again.”
“An airship can’t weather a magnetic storm like the one you described.”
“Right. And, in fact, we were shipwrecked.”
“No. I don’t believe you, friend. You didn’t make that journey. At least not on an airship. It’s been a few years that I’ve travelled on these things,” Kasia pats her chair’s armrest, “And there’s no way to pass through a storm. The semi-aluminum frame wouldn’t hold up for more than a few minutes and then the ship would plummet like a stone.”
“We had a somewhat special means of conveyance. Experimental.”
“Well, now I have a better idea why the baron wants to get his hands on you. Technology that improves airships to the point where they can withstand the force of a storm would be a great step forward, which would give the Dutch absolute supremacy in trade and in weaponry.”
The man stares at her, nodding gravely. “You’re a witch.” It was not a question.
“Yes. Thank you for the bandage, it feels better,” Kasia slides back into her boot, carefully. “Graydar situation?”
“All clear ahead of us.”
“Follow the wind, Silla, calculate the pivot point to change course over the Ardennes.” At the Hamburg beacon they’d have to declare the change in course from Den Haag to Londion and they’d discover the intentions of the Dutch. The Needle is very fast, but it’s taken on two unscheduled passenger and there are military airships which could catch up with it over a long distance. The Baron’s Scourge is probably an updated airship with the latest technology and remarkable performance capacity. But the Dutch nobles love to travel in comfort and the weight doesn’t help in tight maneuvers.
“Route calculated, twenty-seven minutes from turning point,” Silla communicates.
“Excellent, I want a clean execution. Riger, prepare the message to the beacon. Tell them we’re changing course for Londion due to a customer order we received after we were already in flight.”
“Which customer?” Riger asks.
“Hmm, something that will be difficult for them to verify.”
“Captain,” Hansi interjects, “use my father’s name, Gingelmann. He’s in a perpetual dispute with the Frank Fort port authority, and he always lets their questions grow old on his writing desk before he replies.”
“Okay, let’s try it, an order from Gingelmann warehouses. Are you rich, Hansi?”
“Rich only in spirit, these days.”
“The Scourge increased its relative velocity by twenty knots,” Alina informs them.
“It’s putting a bit of pressure on us, but it may be better this way. Maintain speed and course, let’s see how close they want to get. When we get to five hundred feet try to shake them off. Ten minute break, everyone; Alina, please make me a sandwich.”
“Can I help?” the young man behind her asks.
Kasia is about to refuse, but the girl beats her to the punch. “Of course, come down to the pantry, that way we’ll finish quickly.”
Contradicting her would lead to a conversation she doesn’t have time to handle; and, after all, ten minutes in the pantry can’t cause any irreparable harm.
“Hurry up,” Kasia says, relaying the order with a rapid-fire glare at Alina, who returns it with a faint smile. “Who’s place are you going to in Londion?” Kasia asks her passenger.
“I have a couple of names. I think I’ll be able to find them easily.”
“Let’s clarify something, Mister Poe. You don’t step foot on the Londion docks if I’m not paid first. You have almost six hours to figure out how to arrange it, so collect your thoughts and find a solution that’s satisfactory for you and your contacts.”
“Communication from the Scourge for the Captain,” Silla interrupts.
“Refuse it, the Captain is busy,” answers Kasia. “Politely, sister.”
Kasia stretches out in her armchair and closes her eyes, trying to rest for a few seconds. It’s been a frenetic morning and the afternoon promises to be even worse; best to recover her strength.
After a moment of darkness, a chicken sandwich with greens is delivered to the small table beside her armchair waking her up.”
“Four minutes to turning point, crew to your stations,” Silla says in a professional tone.
“You seem pretty tired,” Guild Poe remarks, seated behind her at observation post two.
“Uh.” Kasia passes a hand over her eyes, she didn’t think she was so worn out she’d fall asleep on the bridge. “How far away is the Scourge?”
“Five hundred twenty.”
“Presumptuous little man.” The weapon range at their cruising speed was five hundred feet, for whoever stays in front with the advantage of relative velocity. But you would need a captain and crew who knew how to navigate to keep such a precise gap, it would only take a gust of wind to end up within shooting distance. “Keep our weapons lowered, for the moment, but I want your hands on those controls.”
“Yes, Captain,” Riger responds without moving a muscle.
“Lili?”
“Navigation systems in order, ready to turn at your command.”
Kasia bites into the sandwich, perhaps a mouthful of food will help clarify her thoughts.
“Guild Poe, Hansi, starting now communications on deck are suspended. I don’t want to hear you whispering, moving, not even breathing. If you need to throw up, there’s a bag near your seats attached to the armrest.”
Kasia takes the dark leather straps, worn with use, and latches the brass clasp over her belly as her mouth begins to burn.
“Darn it, you put hot sauce in these sandwiches.”
Alina smiles, but the young witch keeps her eyes fixed on her screen. Very good, at last something got through that thick melon.
Kasia checks her navigation chart, then: “Three, two, one. Mark!”
Lili spins the whole wheel, making the airship’s cabin tilt frighteningly to the right. Silla opens the communications channel with the Hamburg beacon, starting to ask for attention to hear their request.
“Transmission from the Scou
rge, for the Captain,” interjects Alina who’s covering for Silla.
Kasia opens the channel from her station, “Captain speaking.”
“This is the First Officer of the Scourge. One moment and I’ll have the Captain on the line.”
“We’re busy steering right now; we’ll be available again in five minutes, over and out.”
A smile is painted on Kasia’s lips. They turned before the customary trading route, taking their pursuer’s crew by surprise. Van Thieg was probably having lunch in his dining cabin and his first officer wasn’t ready for such a move. And that little tussle over communications was just a game, but a nervous adversary is more likely to make a mistake and Kasia doesn’t want to concede them any advantage.
“Let’s go to seventh eights,” Kasia orders, pleased.
The deck creaks as the airship’s cabin slowly becomes horizontal again, thus rocking in the opposite direction.
“Uhmp.” Behind her, Hansi stifles a heave with a cough.
“The Scourge is changing course,” Alina reports.
“Distance?”
“Ah. I have to calculate it.”
“Two hundred sixty feet from our mark,” offers Silla.
“Good. Concentrate, Alina.”
“Yes, Auntie. Captain.”
“Engines at full speed.”
Lili pulls the lever all the way, making the engines emit a dull lowing.
“The Hamburg beacon has responded. They’re ordering us to reverse course,” Silla interjects.
“Ask their reason. Keep the tone formal and specify that we’re recording the communication in our log.”
“Scourge,” Kasia opens the channel once again. “This is the Captain of the Needle speaking. Is your captain available, now?”
“Please wait.” Then an instant later, Von Thieg’s voice: “Santuini! Did you really think you’d be able to land in Londion unmolested?”
“I don’t know. Do you intend to molest us?”
“You’re committing a brazen error. If you ever manage to make it, we’ll be right behind you. And we’ll deliver such a detailed report to the Dutch authorities that you’ll never be able to step foot on the Continent again. The bank will withdraw your line of credit. You won’t have time to get off the airship before it’s confiscated.”
“You’re well informed regarding my affairs. We’ll see in Londion who shall be in trouble. Keep outside maneuvering distance, you do not have permission to come within my range. This communication is being recorded, Captain, so be careful. The English don’t have a sense of humor. Over and out.”
“The Hamburg beacon wants us to return to have our cargo inspected. They say they suspect us of transporting contraband goods.”
“Send them our list, validated by the port of Frank Fort. It’s not within their rights to stop us mid-flight to inspect our cargo, they can send a request to the Londion authorities.”
“We’ll be over the sea in six minutes,” Lili announces.
“Okay, anything on the graydar?”
“No, we should arrive without any problems.”
“Transmission from Hamburg. Quote: 'You are not authorized to go beyond the shore; this is your last warning, reverse course or we will shoot you down.'”
“Cross high over the coast, in the clouds.”
Silence on deck. A very risky move.
“I don’t trust those two-faced Dutchmen,” Kasia says. “They might shoot at us in earnest.”
In front of her, through the bridge’s window, the clouds thicken menacingly.
“We’ve exceeded the standard level for descent,” Silla remarks calmly. “The Scourge is descending.”
“So we’re gaining two things this way,” Kasia comments.
The black cumuli began to press against the glass, laden with electrical charge and storm wind, like all those that plague the world’s seas.
Kasia consults her map again. They’re rising vertically along the coast; it’s time to shed altitude.
The airship starts to shake in the storm winds’ grip.
“Maximum cruising velocity on my orders. Distance from the point of descent?”
“Four hundred feet!” Silla shouts amid the frightening creaks of the hull.
Kasia grits her teeth while the resistance against the cabin grows more violent. She can imagine the Dutch on the anti-aircraft coastline scrutinizing the sky in search of their ship.
“Warning shot,” Riger interrupts.
A blast behind them, lost in the storm’s din.
“They didn’t see us, we’re almost out of range.” Silla steadies herself with both hands against the dashboard, jarred out of her seat.
“Joint stress at maximum threshold!” Lili warns, gripping the wheel.
“Now!”
Lili opens the valves making the floor give way below their feet. The airship drops like a stone, in free fall.
“At six hundred feet, extend balance wings,” Kasia shouts, trying to overcome the storm’s noise and the hull’s rocking. “Alina, report!”
“I can’t read the controls!”
Kasia consults her chronometer, reset at the moment of descent. The needle vibrates so much it’s difficult to make out the numbers. Fortunately, a small internal stopwatch has gone off inside Kasia, the child of a hundred voyages and maneuvers.
“Wings, out!” she shouts.
Lili pulls the lever, her long hair disheveled by the vibrations.
The airship spreads its wings, powerful friction shaking the cabin, and slows their fall.
Kasia tries to check the altimeter, but the marine clouds, charged with magnetism, have already confused the instruments. Huge masses of black vapor continue to break against the windshield, while their descent velocity gradually decreases. The wings hold, even though the blows are even more intense. They need to get out within a few minutes otherwise the frame might give way. As if it ripped through a curtain, the airship emerges from the clouds revealing the sea, traversed by innumerable white crests of foam a couple hundred feet below her.
“Nose up!” Kasia commands, but Lili has already closed the valves and given the intake pumps full power.
The airship continues its parabolic descent, reducing its relative speed.
The sea grows ever closer, but slowly the hull gains headway.
“Stable,” Silla announces.
“Wow, this time we could have almost gone fishing,” Riger comments.
“The clouds were a little low,” Silla says.
“Perfect maneuver,” Kasia concludes. “And the Scourge?”
“I don’t see it,” Silla answers turning her gaze towards the windows.
“Riger and Alina, to the binoculars; keep your eyes open.”
The two witches unfasten their belts and head towards the fixed lookout posts. Above them the clouds flash darkly, blocking almost all the sun’s light.
Kasia turns her chair to face the two observers.
Hansi is white as freshly-squeezed milk, while Guild Poe has lost his eternal smile and has the coloring of a toad.
“Has your stay on board been comfortable? Would you care for some peanuts?”
Hansi doubles over, with his face in the bag. Guild Poe on the other hand regains his sense of humor, and quips, “I like your way of flying, Captain. I don’t think it comes from experience because steering like that you wouldn’t last long. But I like it.”
“I took off in an airship while you were still pissing your pants. It’s difficult to judge a witch’s age; did you know that, Guild Poe?”
“Oh, I know it well. But it’s also difficult to judge a black man’s age; did they ever tell you that?”
“I have contact at seven o’clock,” Riger says. “It’s far, over a thousand feet. But it could be the Scourge.”
“The graydar?”
“It’s silent, just white noise,” Silla answers. “A nice little blizzard. But the relative position could correspond to the Scourge.”
“I have c
ontact also, at two o’clock,” Alina interjects.
“In front of us? Impossible,” Riger remarks.
“Actually there are two, no, three ships.”
“You’re seeing fireflies, girl. Where?” Riger asks rotating her own equipment.
“What do we have?” Kasia orients her chair straight ahead again, impatient.
“The little one is right,” Riger answers. “There are three contacts. Perhaps even four. Only… um.”
A moment of silence.
“Speak to me, Riger,” Kasia presses her.
“They have a bizarre shape. They don’t look like airships. And then they’re very, very low over the sea.”
“They look like cones, right?” Guild Poe asks.
Everyone turns towards him. “Yes, exactly. Cones, but they’re huge,” Riger says.
“We’re in hot water,” Guild Poe mumbles.
“Relative velocity and direction?” Kasia asks again.
“They’re on our course. Southeast, I’d guess two hundred thirty degrees.” Riger checks the binocular again.
“Even closer,” Alina reports.
“Guild Poe.” Kasia spins her seat around to face him. “Would you be so kind as to enlighten us? Do you have an idea what these ships are?”
The man appears even more shaken than before. His face is wan and his lips pulled tight, two subtle black lines. “Captain, those are trans-oceanic airships. They’ve come from the other side of the world, from my side.”
“Ah, these would be the new ships capable of cutting across oceans? Like the one you came on? Interesting. So they’re carrying Americans?”
“Oh, no. We copied the technology for magnetic levitation over the sea and not all that well given that my ship crashed. Others developed it, unfortunately. And they’re hostile.”
“How miserly you are with information, Guild Poe. Tell me more.”
“This isn’t the time or place. We need to flee as if the devil’s on our heels. Let’s curve back over the Continent.”
“That’s absurd. We’ll have the Dutch cannon aimed at our nose. Let’s make a wide turn around these mysterious ships. You’re irritating me with your half-truths, Mister Poe. Close your trap and let us navigate,” Kasia exclaims, turning once again toward the windshield. “Alina!” she orders, “Keep an eye on the unidentified ships. Riger, open artillery. Silla, new course, we’ll pass seven hundred feet from them.”
The Codex of the Witch: Fantasy Novel Page 7
