“You be careful,” she told him. “Don't go and do anythin' heroic. The Cap'n will get us outta this mess, you'll see.”
He made a face as he shifted his weight. “Yeah. Suppose he probably will.”
Hayden returned with the knife and pressed its hilt into Gideon's bloodied hand, but he didn't say goodbye…just held Gideon's eyes for a second, nodded, and turned to pull Po away. All Po had time for was one quick, backward glance that showed her Gideon calmly cleanin' his knife on the stomach'a his shirt. Then their walk turned into a jog that turned into a run that turned into as much of a sprint as Hayden could manage while teeterin' on his bad foot.
And Po wondered, after they'd reached the up-downs and still no shots had sounded behind them, if maybe Gideon had never planned to run at all.
“I think I know why the up-downs weren't guarded,” Hayden said, his head down at Po's feet. They’d thought it'd be a good idea to lay across the wooden floorboards’a the up-downs so they'd be harder to see as they ascended. They spoke in breathless whispers as the cage rattled slowly up its thick rusted chain.
A shout echoed up from the city below. The alarm chimes were still goin', background noise more than anythin' now. “Why?”
“There are only two places for us to go, once we reach the top. The tunnel entrance we first came down, and the way the Letoians took Owon to the lightning mines. All paths lead to the desert. To the Rippers and the Raiders or the mines.”
“So we've got nowhere to go.” Hayden's silence seemed very pointed, so Po lifted her head and found him gazin' intently at her. This no-talkin'-aloud business was more annoyin' than havin' thermosphere gnats gum up her engine's bypass funnels.
“Think it through, Po,” Hayden encouraged softly, and his eyes flicked to the goggles around her neck.
Po pushed out a hard breath and squeezed her eyes shut for concentration. What had Reece said?
Most importantly…find Mordecai and have a moot. Well, they didn't know where Mordecai was or have a clue'a how to find him, so that was no good. She was gonna have to start at the end and work her ways backward. Her eyes popped open and stared up at the cobwebbed iron bars'a the cage. As soon as she'd thought'a it that way, it all made sense. Mordecai was the instruction…moot was the clue.
Gideon had given them goggles and said they would need them. He had started them in the right direction, headin' them towards the up-downs even though they’d seemed like a dead end. But they weren't; that was the idea. Hayden was right. All paths led to the desert, to the Rippers, to the Raiders…and to Aurelia. Where else would they have a moot?
The mayor must not think they'd take the risk, or maybe she thought there was nothin' for them there. It wasn't as though they could fly Aurelia while she had the turbine. So even though she was likely listenin' to them right now, she had to think she had them trapped. Maybe that'd slow her down enough to give Po and Hayden the time they needed to get up into the desert.
Po felt as though she'd found the corner pieces'a the puzzle…the important beginnings to the full picture. Nothin' else made sense yet—why the Cap'n had sent them off together, why they needed Aurelia, how everyone else seemed to know what was goin' on—but she had hope. Because they might find Mordecai on The Aurelia, and Mordecai was like her da in that she couldn't help feelin' like when he was around, one way or another, things would turn out alright.
“We're there,” Hayden said suddenly. The cage had stopped climbin'; it swung slightly, nudgin' the loadin' dock. The windin' pass to the steel hatch in the side'a the damp rock wall was empty and quiet. “What do you think?”
“I think…” Po swallowed what she'd been about to say—that she thought Petric might be lettin' them go because she knew the desert was a deathtrap. “I think we should hurry. How's your ankle?”
He sighed as he pulled himself up by the bars, lookin' green in the face. “It's fine.”
“You're a bad liar.”
“Well, I suppose if you're going to be bad at something,” he hobbled to the door, which creaked mournfully on its hinges, makin' him flinch, “it might as well be that. Not that that's the only thing I'm…”
When his voice trailed off, Po took his hand and gently led him out onto solid ground. They looked around nervously, but no soldiers sprang outta the rock, no bullets sparked in the dark. They cautiously picked their way up the slippery pass to the steel door set in the mountainside. Like the up-downs crank, they had to work its spoked wheel together before it popped open with a hiss'a decompression.
The room was empty, which was hardly surprisin', since its hangin' lantern was dark. When they pressed their shoulders against the door and labored it shut, their feet scrapin' for traction against the damp floor, the only light in the room came through the porthole window, and the only fresh air from the tunnel overhead, though it hardly felt fresh, hot and thick as it was. Po felt like she had just closed herself in an oven.
“Goggles,” Hayden instructed hoarsely, and she saw his outline fiddlin' with his, tryin' to make them fit over his lenses. She pushed hers over her nose and blinked, her eyes wellin' up at the crimson brightness they laid over everythin'.
Hayden insisted he go up the ladder first, in case there was somethin' waitin' for them at the top. His climb was slow, and she could tell it was gruelin', because every time his bad ankle gave out, it was right there in her face, and she could see the funny angle he held it at as he tried to keep the weight off it. But he didn't say anythin', just readjusted and started up again. He was so much braver than he ever gave himself credit for.
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 t
hat 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 anythi
ng. 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—”
With his cigar pinned between two of his fingers, Mordecai tapped his temple. “It's telepathic. They're in our heads. Them talkin' back, well, that's a little harder done, but they got their point across.”
“And…you think we can trust them?” Po asked, stealing Hayden's question word for word.
“They didn't turn you into cubes'a meat, did they?”
Gulping and trying to move on past that image as fast as possible, Hayden waved at the soldiers trussed up in the middle of the cargo bay. “And them?”
Mordecai blew a smoke ring. “Different matter entirely.” Reaching into the front of his shirt, he produced a leather-bound book—the very one he'd been reading that morning, as Hayden recalled—and passed it to Po. “Gideon forced that on me before dawn this mornin' and said I ought to read it to its end. Thought that was odd, seein' as books aren't quite his forte, so I figured I'd better do as he said.”
The Airship Aurelia (The Aurelian Archives) Page 18
