I pulled myself to my feet as Rodin flew off my shoulder, out of my compartment and toward the stairs. Once on the gun deck, I rubbed my eyes against the bright light streaming through the ports. I waved to Mr. Singh and darted up the stairs after Rodin. When I arrived at the hatch to the bridge I paused, collected myself, and turned the handle. Before I could enter, the door swung open and Ignatius rushed past me. I jumped back out of the way. From the look on his face, I knew there was trouble.
Stepping onto the bridge, I saw Lord Marbury and the baron standing behind the captain. Tension hung thick in the air, like moisture on a hot, humid day. I looked around the room. Hunter sat at the wall of dials monitoring the Sparrowhawk’s controls.
Baldarich turned to Hunter and in a stern and sober tone, asked, “Is the pressure holding steady?”
“No Captain, still rising.”
“Not good.” He flipped open one of the copper tubes and leaned closer. “Gears, tell me you can fix this.”
“Sorry, Captain. The engines are burning up, but I still can’t figure out why.”
Baldarich slammed his fist on the armrest of his chair, then spun around and locked eyes with the baron. Then he turned back to the tube, and took a deep breath before he spoke in a coarse whisper. “This is no ordinary engine problem, Gears. If your goal was to sabotage us, make us drop out of the sky without ever tipping your hand, how would you do it?”
There was silence on the other end, and then Gears spoke. “I’ve got a few ideas, Captain. I’m on it.”
Baldarich flipped the cover back down and grabbed his chin. Then the three men turned and eyed me. I must have had an odd expression on my face, because each of them stared at me as if I had the answer. I opened my mouth to blurt out my vision, but if this was more sabotage, I feared the wrong person might overhear. Instead, I asked softly, “Can I help?”
“We don’t even know what the problem is yet. I sent Ignatius to help Gears.” The captain turned to Heinz. “Bring us down out of the clouds. If we get into trouble I want to be closer to the ground.”
Lord Marbury returned to staring at the dials, but the baron’s eyes narrowed as he looked at me and Rodin.
“Everything all right?”
“Yep.” I nodded, hoping I looked convincing.
I stepped to the window to avoid the baron’s piercing eyes. As the clouds parted revealing the desert below, I saw an ancient city, one of the largest I’d ever seen, with stone ruins covering everything below. “Where are we?”
Lord Marbury stepped to the map table, but the baron joined me by the window. “Impressive,” Baron Kensington said quietly. “My guess, only one city out here could be that big. Babylon.”
“Babylon!” I pressed my face against the window to see as much as possible. “One of the largest cities of the ancient world, and the place where Alexander the Great died.”
“That’s right,” the baron said. “You certainly do know your Alexander the Great history.”
“My father has always used his death as a cautionary tale.”
“Because he pushed himself too far, too quickly?”
“Partly, but the end of his life is filled with mystery. He became seriously ill on the return from India. Some say he was poisoned. Some say his doctors killed him trying to treat him. Some say he’d given too much of himself. No matter the reason, here is where he passed into legend.”
I thought about this betrayal. It was said that some of his men feared Alexander’s ambition, that he really wanted to conquer the world. They’d followed him from Greece across the entirety of the known world. They were tired and just wanted to go home. So someone poisoned him. Now, we had betrayers in our midst. I was certain of it. The ruins of Babylon passing below me seemed to be a warning.
The baron tapped his cane on the deck. “You’re a wise man, Master Armitage. Beware doctor’s meddling, beware ambitious men, and beware the wrath of God.”
The Sparrowhawk lurched and the starboard side dropped. I grabbed hold of the window to prevent myself from slipping. We turned as the captain flipped open one of the copper tubes. “Gears! What are you doing to my ship?”
A raspy voice echoed back. “I have cascading failures, Captain. We have to set down.”
The captain smashed his fist against the railing and cursed under his breath. “Heinz, set us down on the edge of the ruins.” He turned to the baron, “Looks like we’ll be a little delayed.”
“Captain, I fear this isn’t a coincidence. We should prepare for unwanted visitors.”
“Agreed. Hunter, after we land I want you on the top deck. Shoot anything that moves.”
“Aye, aye, Captain.”
I locked eyes with the baron. “Maybe I am a student of Diogenes, because I don’t think this is destiny, either.”
The baron smiled. “Cynicism is healthy; it will keep you alive.”
Captain Baldarich’s eyes burned and his face darkened. “When I find the man who did this, I’ll make him walk the plank at five thousand feet.” He pointed over his shoulder, “Go help Gears, Mr. Knight.”
As I passed the captain, Lord Marbury asked, “Why does he call you that?”
“A nickname I earned in Zululand,” I said with a slight nod and smirk. “The Order may not be ready to make me a knight, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have the heart of a knight.”
“Well said,” the baron added.
I bowed toward him, and then ran off the bridge to find Gears.
CHAPTER 8
REPAIRS AND RAIDERS
I heard yelling before I ever reached the engine room. Gear’s thick accent didn’t echo so much as it slammed through the corridors. He was speaking in German, which was never a good sign, and his grease monkeys were running from the engines to the boilers like frightened mice. Ignatius stormed out ripping his Stetson off and smacking the hat against his thigh.
He saw me and waved his Stetson. “Come on kid, you’re with me. We have to check the helium cells.”
I nodded, relieved I didn’t have to ask Gears any questions.
We ran up the stairs to the small hatches behind the deck gun hoist. I hadn’t been back here since the captain, Genevieve, and I hid amongst the helium cells to avoid Zerelda, the Sky-Witch. Those memories could’ve taken place a lifetime ago. I was a completely different person back then, a scared kid, overwhelmed by the world. Not a crewman on a mission.
“Check each cell; Gears swears we’re venting helium.” Ignatius said in his continental accent with a cowboy twist. He’d been born in the wrong country, Southern Germany, not the Wild West. “And here, take this patch.” He handed me a large swatch of treated canvas and a small bottle of sealant.
“Will do, Mr. Peacemaker.” I climbed inside, crawled along the metal grating, and through bulging gas cells. Heat rose from the engine room. I passed over a beam of light shooting up through a missing rivet. Memories of Genevieve, the captain, and me huddled around the small hole looking down into the engine room as Zerelda tortured the crew flooded my mind. Baldarich said he hadn’t fixed it because it had come in so handy. Now the thought made me chuckle.
The third cell rippled and lacked the bulging seams as it deflated. “This must the one,” I said in a squeaky high-pitched voice. “We’re definitely venting.”
I tried to yell to Ignatius, but my voice wouldn’t carry. I sounded so funny and felt funnier. I couldn’t help but say whatever came to mind. “I sound so weird. Oooooh. I am the Black Knight!” I laughed.
Sliding around the gas sack, I found a six-inch gash on the back side. I looked around for a metal barb, or broken brace that might have caused the tear, but found nothing. I pulled out the patching material and the bottle of sealant. Sticking my fingers inside the rip, I ran them along the sliced edge of another tear on the inner bag. Each large sack was filled with internal cells, so if one ruptured, the whole sack didn’t deflate. I didn’t have enough material to do both. I’d have to seal the outer bag for now, and make a better repair once in
port.
As I put the patch along the tear, I noticed the smooth edges. This hadn’t been torn, but cut with something sharp like a knife. Not good. That meant someone had sabotaged the Sparrowhawk. Someone on board. I applied the sealant to the back of the canvas, and laid it over the hole. Then I spread more around the edges to ensure everything was air tight.
When I was satisfied it would hold, I crawled back to the hatch and climbed out. Ignatius stood with the captain. Both men had their hands on their hips.
“Well?” Baldarich asked, as he pushed back his long red coat.
“The third helium bag had a six-inch gash that ruptured both the inner and outer containers.” I tried to be serious but my squeaky voice cracked. “I sealed it, but it needs a more permanent fix.”
Both men laughed at me. Ignatius tipped his Stetson back, and Captain Baldarich slapped me on the back, “Good job, Mr. Knight. Now say it again.”
“Captain, this is serious,” but both men continued to laugh hysterically. “Captain, the bag was sliced open. A clean cut. Nothing around it could have done the damage.” My voice was lowering back to normal, but still sounded strange.
Baldarich forced himself to stop laughing and nodded. He hit Ignatius’ shoulder which caused him to stop. “Round up the three new guys we picked up in Egypt, but quiet like. Let’s not tip our hand.”
Ignatius nodded, “Aye, aye, Captain.”
Baldarich put his hand on my shoulder. “Did you get it patched?”
“The outer bag. The inner one had already deflated and I didn’t have enough material.”
“Good work. Now go tell the baron that I’m rounding up the crew.” I started to head off, but he stopped me. “Don’t say anything if the crew is on the bridge. Pull the baron aside. He’ll want to be present for the questioning.”
I saluted, and with my normal voice said, “Aye, aye, Captain.”
Before I could dart off, Gears walked up holding a broken hunk of metal. “Captain we have a problem.”
“Tell me something I don’t know, Gears.”
“We can’t lift off without something to replace this strut.”
“That’s not what I want to hear. What do we have that can replace it?”
“We don’t have anything on board. I need something a foot long that is strong enough to take the weight.” Gears wiped his hand across his brow leaving a long black smudge. “I thought about cutting up one of the wrenches but it’s not wide enough.”
I raised my finger to cut into the conversation. “Would a piece of stone work?”
Gears looked at me. “It might, but where are we going to get cut stone?”
“Babylon. We’re surrounded by stone. All we have to do is find a piece the right size.”
Captain Baldarich slapped my back. “I like the way you think. Change of plans. Tell the baron about the stone, and once off the ship, tell him the other thing.”
I smiled. “Will do.”
CHAPTER 9
FIXING THE Sparrowhawk
As the baron and I walked down the gangplank, I told him about the gash in the helium cells, the stone piece we needed to find, and the crewmembers who were being rounded up for questioning. Then, as soon as my foot touched the dirt, I rushed forward toward the ruins and heard his trailing voice say, “Alexander, wait.”
I couldn’t restrain myself. Alexander the Great had ruled this city. He’d died here. His tomb might be in Alexandria, Egypt, but this was where he’d lived before heading off to India. Babylon had more history than any other city I’d stepped in. I walked up the main causeway lined with reliefs depicting ancient Babylonians, and now my footsteps fell into theirs.
The baron rushed to catch up with me. “Alexander, don’t get too far away.”
“Do you know where the ruins of the Tower of Babel might be? I thought there’d be more.” I’d been expecting the ruins of a tower. The legends said the tower had been built so high it approached God.
“No, why do you ask.”
“It’s the reason I had to learn so many languages.”
“I never thought of it like that before, I was actually hoping more of the ruins of the Hanging Gardens would be visible. I suppose they’re buried.”
“The Hanging Gardens, I forgot about them.” I jumped onto a toppled column and scanned the city. “You’d think a giant garden created by the king for his homesick wife would stand out.”
“They’re the only one of the Seven Wonders of the World that hasn’t been located.”
“I know and I have so many questions. What did they look like? It’s said they were based off the mountains which were her home, but then how did he get all the water to the highest tiers? How and why would anyone destroy them?”
“All good questions.”
I pointed at the only thing that stood out. “There’s a blue gate over there.”
“The Ishtar Gate.” The baron motioned with his hand. “Come on, let’s find this stone, and get back to the Sparrowhawk. We shouldn’t wander too far,” he said. “I wouldn’t be surprised if we had unwelcome company.”
I jumped down and we searched through a pile of stones until we’d identified several candidates. I put three of them in my leather shoulder bag and we started back toward the airship.
As the sun rose higher, the heat increased. I wiped the sweat from my brow, and turned to see if the baron was ready to pass out like me. Not a drop of sweat marred his brow.
As we passed through a ruined hall of toppled columns, my stomach twisted up in knots. As I doubled over, the baron drew his saber, and sure enough, henchmen in long black coats and bowler hats with goggles around the band emerged on all sides.
Snarling, one said, “Well, lookie here boys, we don’t even have to sneak on the airship. They sent’em out for us.”
“How nice of’em,” said another as he smacked his baton against his palm.
The baron stepped closer to me. “I’ll deal with this scum. Get the Sparrowhawk out of here.”
My fingers curled around the handle of my Thumper. Before we’d landed, I’d made sure I had it strapped to my leg and put my extra ammunition in my pouch. “I’m not leaving you.”
One man in black cracked his knuckles. “Yeah, let the kid stay; we’re here for him, too.”
All the henchmen charged at once as the baron stood his ground. One tried to punch me, but I dove into the dirt and tumbled past him. I popped up and fired my Thumper. The concussive blast smacked into the henchman’s back and knocked him into a stone column. The man collapsed onto the ground.
I glanced at the baron who fought off three men with his saber, slicing one as he kicked another. Two others headed toward me, and I turned and ran. Unlike the first time I faced down the henchmen in my father’s office, I wasn’t paralyzed. Fear wound its icy grip around me, but I was battle-tested, and my heart quickened but didn’t pound against my chest. I ran only because I needed time to reload.
Popping the percussion cap out of the baton, I slipped in another and sprinted behind a column. As the two men closed in on me, I spun around and fired. The blast ripped between them spinning them both like tops. Darting behind another stone, I popped the breach open sending the cap into the sand. As I slipped the next one in, a henchman came around the stone, looming over me with a snarling expression.
Startled, I reacted and kicked his knee. He looked down, more annoyed than hurt, and I saw the top of his hat. I smacked him hard with the metal baton, my Thumper. He pitched sideways. His Thumper rolled out his hand and I scooped it up. As I popped up, I saw the baron still fighting multiple opponents. Creeping out from behind a stone directly behind him, an hassassin, dressed all in black, face covered by a black scarf drew two curved knives from his belt.
I fired my Thumper, and without even looking my direction, the hassassin bent backward away from the blast until his head almost touched the ground. He rose back to his feet and continued stalking the baron. With both batons in hand, I ran after him. I swung my Thumpe
rs one after the other, but the hassassin blocked my attacks with his knives, never even looking at me. His eyes, like the assassin in Greece, had pupils so large all I saw was black. He moved like a trained warrior, as skilled as the baron, or Genevieve.
Finally, the assassin turned his haunting expression toward me, and a chill ran up my spine. He had dodged my attacks, and now his vacant eyes focused on me. He slashed at me with his blades. I blocked his attacks with both Thumpers, but he swung faster, and I had trouble keeping him away. I stepped back once, and then again, as one of the curved daggers whipped past my stomach. I remained barely out of reach, and the clinking of our weapons rang in my ears.
“Baron!” I yelled, knowing that I was about to falter. I only hoped the blades weren’t poisoned.
His knives moved faster than my eyes could track, and because I was busy blocking every attack with my Thumpers, I couldn’t fire. I hadn’t even checked to see if the henchman’s Thumper was loaded. I steeled myself for the strike, knowing that when his blade finally struck home, I’d have only a split second to blast him. Only a split second to save Genevieve’s father.
My arms were heavy, my muscles growing tired as the assassin effortlessly pushed my baton away one last time, opening my core to his other blade. I flinched and prepared myself to feel cold steel on my hot skin when the man’s head disappeared and a mist of pink and white engulfed me. Then I heard the crack of Hunter’s elephant rifle.
I exhaled, forcing the breath from my lungs, as the assassin’s body crumpled to the ground. I looked at the headless body. When I realized I was covered with what remained of the man’s skull and brains, I heaved the contents of my stomach into the stand.
I wiped my face with the back of my sleeve as a crack of lightning drew my attention toward Captain Baldarich. In the distance, a henchmen fell backward, twitching against a fallen pillar. Ignatius ran alongside the captain with Peacemakers in each hand. He shot one henchman attacking the baron, and pivoted to shoot another rushing to attack the captain.
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