Grieves and Jones appeared at the other end of the passageway that led from the Nimrod's bridge back to the ladder that led both up and down into other regions of the craft. Carson walked swiftly towards them and swung himself onto the ladder and went down, followed quickly by Byron, the two agents and Rad.
In the airlock passage, there was a small gap between the ladder and the rear wall where an access hatch was set. As Rad touched down on the decking, the Captain opened the door and led them down a flight of thin metal stairs into what Rad assumed was the main hold of the explorer. It was a large room, as high as it was wide, occupying the entire stern of the Nimrod. Looking at the framework on the walls and the floor, Rad could see how the space had been fitted out to carry a few large pieces of equipment, all tethered to racks that could be rolled on and off the ship with ease. To assist this, the rear and both sides of the hold appeared to be mostly comprised of large doors, which slid back like a concertina. Their structure was a little thinner than that of the hull proper, and the noise in the hold was deafening as the doors rattled and pulsed with the wind outside, the harsh scraping and banging mixing with the roar of the Nimrod's giant fan engines.
The Captain drew Rad, Grieves and Jones to one side as Byron walked directly to the port-side hold doors. The servant reached up and quickly unclamped the basic clasps that held the door fast in flight, and yanked it open. The door folded into itself, opening a gap that ran along the entire length of the ship. Immediately the wind roared in, not just from their slipstream, but pushed into the hold by the port engine fan, which hung above the opening on the outside of the ship, tilted directly downwards to provide stationary lift.
Rad was glad that Byron seemed to be following some preagreed course of action, as the exposed engine fan so close made communication almost impossible. Rad tried blocking his ears, but found he needed his arms free to maintain balance in the driving wind. Grieves and Jones had grabbed some dark webbing that hung from the wall, while Carson stood, leaning into the wind with apparent practice, watching Byron's actions. Thanks largely to his impressive bulk, the Nimrod's pilot seemed unaffected.
There was some equipment still stowed in the hull – two large, cannon-like instruments, each the size of a small ironclad deck gun and clearly intended to be mounted somewhere on the outside of the vessel. Byron unhitched one from its rack and held it with the 'stock' under one armpit. The guns appeared to be preloaded at manufacture with something, as the barrel opening was sealed with some kind of foil wrap. Byron pulled a red cord on the seal and tore it off, then positioned himself at the very mouth of the hull door.
The cannon bucked under Byron's arm. Rad couldn't hear it, but he could feel a dull concussion wave hit him in the chest. Byron was knocked to his knees, then dragged forward as the grapple hook and cable he had just fired found its mark in the side of the Enemy airship. Byron reached forward to grab the cable with his free hand and pulled.
Rad saw the damaged side of the other ship buckle as the claw, which had penetrated its armour and then presumably expanded into a proper hook, yanked at the plating. Byron, on one knee, with one hand, tugged the two moving craft closer together. Rad watched Byron's arm bulge as he heaved, then leaned back to pull again.
Carson had said that Byron was as alive as he was, but Rad had only ever seen that kind of strength in one other kind of 'human' before. The ironclad robots. He made a note to ask Carson about that later. If they survived.
Two minutes passed. The ships were now less than a yard apart. The Nimrod's port engine shook in its housing as it was squeezed against some jutting structure of the other ship, out of sight beyond the top of the hold doors. Rad felt the floor of the Nimrod tilt slightly away from the other ship, as the two were pushed together and Nimrod's engine got in the way, forcing their craft into an angle.
Byron stood, still holding the cable in one hand. He let the spent grapple cannon drop to the floor and roll away, and took one step forward. He punched his free arm through the armour of the Enemy ship right to the shoulder. A few quick jerks back and forth, up and down, then out, and the entire riveted panel came loose and was pulled free. Byron tossed it into the Nimrod's hold, then stood and stepped to one side, keeping hold of the ragged edge of the makeshift door. Although the two ships were tethered, the cable stretched and slackened, the two vessels clanging together in the air as they plummeted towards the city. Byron grabbed the cable, pulled it taut, then began winding it around one of the empty frames dangling from the Nimrod's ceiling.
Carson turned to the two agents from New York City, leaning in to shout so he could be heard.
"Go in first. You're both armed. Head forward, take the bridge. The ship might be empty, might not be. Expect anything. Go. Byron will follow, but he's our only pilot. Protect him."
Bullethead Jones touched his gun hand to his forehead in a makeshift salute and the two of them ran to the gap between the Nimrod and the other ship. Braced against the wind, they hopped the ever-changing gap with no hesitation and disappeared inside the Enemy craft. Byron immediately followed. Carson held Rad's arm for a moment.
"You can stay if you want to." The Captain pointed to Rad's leg. Rad waved the concern away.
"Let's go. No point staying, this thing is heading for the ground as well."
"Good man," said the Captain, who then nimbly crossed the deck and entered the other ship. Rad ignored his complaining leg and followed.
The Enemy ship was lit in an angry red that provided ample light – but somehow still had the close, oppressive atmosphere of total darkness. Rad didn't like it.
They'd had it. Rad was sure. How much time was left? A minute? Less probably. Presumably the ship's bridge was close by, but would Byron be able to operate the controls? Wouldn't they be locked on the collision course, or something? And that was assuming there was nobody on board. Any resistance on the way would cost them any time they had.
Rad saw nothing but red and black shadows and the curve of Captain Carson's back as he followed him through the narrow corridor. The old man was slower than Rad, who could have reached out and touched him with his fingertips. Their footsteps clanged on loose metal grating; up ahead, the heavy stomps of Byron and the lighter patter of Grieves and Jones.
Then, gunshots. Three, a pause, then another two. The sound startled Rad and he slowed, while Carson accelerated towards the sound and sped away from him.
That settled it. Now they'd had it. Rad, Carson, Byron, Grieves, Jones. Rex, Rad's double, locked in the Nimrod. The Empire State. New York City. Shazam! All gone in the blink of an eye and, Rad imagined, by some kind of giant intergalactic lightning bolt.
The corridor expanded into a square room. Rad caught a glimpse of bulkheads, hatchways open and closed, shapes moving in the ink-thick red. Something large, black and rectangular swamped Rad's vision, and he pulled to a stop with a protective arm across his face. Something cannoned into his side, and he fell against the wall. His cry of surprise was masked by another gunshot and the shape moved away.
It was Grieves. His gun was pointing at the ceiling, being held in the raised position by the huge gauntleted hand of the Skyguard. The two were locked in a struggle, Grieves's neck in the grip of the other hand. And Grieves was losing, no mistake. He was being bent backwards as the bulk of the Skyguard pushed him towards the floor, Grieves lacking the strength to fight against Kane's powered armour.
Rad blinked, the red light flashing behind his eyelids, and looked around for Jones. He turned to the left as he heard a thud, just in time to see Jones throw a punch at another armoured figure. This one was as big as the Skyguard, and wearing just as much armour. The Science Pirate, Rad thought. With two armoured rocketeers to fight, he wondered how bad the odds really were. But Bullethead Jones wasn't a small man and he had been able to fell his opponent, who scrambled on the decking, but caught his heels in his ridiculously large cloak. Jones seized the advantage and landed a kick against the struggling form's side, then reached down and pulled
him up by the neck, ready for a second punch.
"Carson!" Rad lifted himself from the corner. The old man was nowhere to be seen. Jones might have been putting up a fight, but Grieves was outmatched by the Skyguard, and Rad wasn't sure he was much help. He limped forward and tried to lunge for the Skyguard's arm to relieve the pressure on Grieves, but with an injured leg he was a fraction too slow. The Skyguard lifted his elbow at just the right time, forcing Rad's grab to miss and connecting the armoured forearm with Rad's chin. The detective hit the deck again, although he managed to tuck his head into his chest to avoid cracking it on the hard metal.
The ship shook, then tilted. Rad rolled on the floor, and saw Carson through an open hatchway, at the end of another corridor. The ship rolled again, in the opposite direction. Beyond Carson, a bulkhead door swung open, revealing the bridge. Byron was at the controls and was trying to prevent the catastrophic collision with the Battery.
The motion of the ship was enough to let Grieves get free, although as he used the yaw of the ship to push the Skyguard off him, his gun clattered to the floor. It slid on the deck grille; Rad didn't hesitate, and pushed off the wall with his feet and dived across the room, flicking the gun towards Grieves with outstretched fingertips. Once he'd gripped it securely, Grieves got to his knees, then to his feet.
A third pitch of the ship separated the combatants yet again. Jones and Grieves fell against one wall; the Skyguard and his companion against the other. The two sides faced each other, concentrating first on maintaining a firm footing. Rad was more or less in the middle, but with both sides wearing masks it was impossible to tell who was sizing up whom.
The Science Pirate pushed off the wall and fell towards the hatch that led to the flight deck, Carson and Byron. Rad called out, then found the Skyguard's hands grabbing the lapels of his suit. The Skyguard brought the winged mask close enough to Rad's face that he could feel his breath condensing on its cool metallic surface.
"Whose side are you on, Rad?" Kane spat, his voice a low, harsh growl. "We're trying to save the city. I thought you wanted that."
Rad croaked a little, but Kane clearly had no intention of loosening his grip. Rad felt his back being dragged up the wall of the room as he was lifted off his feet. His chest caught fire as the cracked rib within flexed around the fracture.
Rad huffed, trying to get a breath. "You're not saving anyone but yourself, Kane," he managed. Another breath, and then: "You're right. The city needs to be saved. Both cities."
At that, the Skyguard released Rad. Rad slid back down the wall, jarring his injured leg against the floor, but he ignored it. The pain was keeping him awake, alert, and was making him angry. Rad knew he could use this to his own advantage, directing his anger and pain towards fulfilling their mission, at any cost.
"They've locked the bridge." The Science Pirate came back down the corridor. Kane turned to Jones and Grieves, just in time for Jones leap towards him, pulling the armoured man away from Rad. Rad rolled against the wall and into Grieves. Face to face with the agent, he saw the broken lens in his mask was now missing altogether. The agent blinked at Rad, his breathing laboured.
"You OK?"
Grieves nodded. "I'll manage," he said, before pushing off the wall and locking both arms around Kane's neck. But in the Skyguard's suit Kane was twice the size of Grieves, who just clung uselessly to his back.
The Science Pirate aimed a mechanically augmented punch at Grieves, but Rad got there first. He ran as fast as he could up the sloping floor, shouldering the rocketeer square in the chest. Rad connected with hard armour, but he felt it give underneath, and he heard the violent, metallic wheeze behind the helmet as he winded his opponent. The action distracted Kane, who finally succumbed to Grieves's efforts and, with the help of a piston kick to the stomach from Jones, toppled backwards to the deck. Grieves rolled free.
"Carson!" Rad bellowed.
Jones looked down the corridor, which was now dark.
"Door's closed."
On the floor, the Science Pirate began to get up, but was stopped by Rad slamming the heel of his shoe into the Pirate's wrist. Something sparked and there was an oily, burnt smell.
"Rad!"
The detective turned at Jones's warning, diving out of the way as Kane powered down the corridor to the bridge. Jones and Grieves shot after him; Rad made to follow, but his ankle was caught by the Science Pirate and he tripped. Rad managed to twist himself before he hit the floor, avoiding a broken nose. He swore, kicked at the Pirate, and scrambled forward on his hands and knees. Once out of reach of the prone Pirate, Rad pushed himself to his feet with his palms and ran down the corridor. He made it just a few yards before a heavy hand grabbed his shoulder, pulling viciously. Rad cried out in surprise and fell, raising his arms over his face instinctively for protection, but no hit came. Instead he bounced on the decking as the Science Pirate ran past in his heavy metal boots.
Rad sat up. The door to the bridge ahead was still closed. Rad expected the Skyguard and Science Pirate to be fighting at the door to get it open, but Rad found himself alone in the corridor. He stopped to get his bearings, and saw in the red darkness an open hatch immediately to his left. Through it he heard multiple pairs of feet pounding on the metal decking. He followed the sound.
Two more turns and he was assaulted by a blast of frigid air. It blew at him with enough force to turn him against the corridor wall. Carried on it he heard shouting and more scuffling. The corridor had a rail running down the opposite side to where Rad leaned, so against the wind, Rad reached and grabbed the rail, and used it to help pull himself forward.
The hatchway was larger than those he had already been through, taller and wider, with a fat, reinforced rim. Rad grabbed the thick edge and pulled himself through.
He was standing on a walkway that ran around the edge of a large open space – a hold of some sort. Steep, angled stairs led down from the walkway at intervals along each wall, and in the centre of the ledge Rad found himself on, just ahead, a large ramp led down.
On the floor below, Grieves and Jones were fighting Kane and the Science Pirate. The two armoured combatants were relying on augmented strength, but Nimrod's agents were obviously highly trained and extremely agile. For every powerhouse punch thrown by Kane, the agents would duck and weave, and land short, sharp taps to vulnerable areas on the armour. Kane and the Science Pirate had strength on their side, but they were slow and awkward, trailing the huge cloaks that tangled and threatened to trip constantly.
Rad guessed it before he saw it, and started to run down the ramp. The Skyguard and the Science Pirate knew they were slow and that the two agents had the advantage. They knew it, because they'd managed to turn the fight and started to force Grieves and Jones back towards the gaping chasm of the open hold door.
The door was a floor-to-ceiling, wall-to-wall shutter, the size of half a football pitch, and it was open. The wind howled in, dragging mist and engine exhaust into the ship in spiralling grey eddies. The air was cold enough to take Rad's breath away, the wind strong enough to buffet him in surprising ways as he ran towards the fray. The hat he'd borrowed from his double lifted off his head and sailed out into the night outside the ship
The Science Pirate saw Rad, and pushing Grieves towards Kane, ran towards the detective, fighting against the billowing cloak that threatened to pull him out of the hold. Kane turned to look, the movement distracting Grieves and Jones. It was enough. Kane turned back and pushed the two agents backwards. Their feet lifted from the ground as they were thrown backwards and vanished over the lip of the open hold door.
Rad shouted something, he wasn't sure what, but his voice was snatched by the wind. He saw Kane fire his rocket boots and launch into the black night beyond the hold door, just as the Science Pirate collided with Rad's chest. The pair fell, but the Science Pirate was surprisingly light despite the armour and Rad managed to push him off – enough to get his feet on his attacker's chest, just as his back hit the deck. A blinding pain
shot through Rad as the edge of a vertebrae cracked on the metal grille, then with a yell he forced his legs straight. The Science Pirate was thrown backwards towards the hold door. His cloak twisted in the wind and he slid backwards as he tried to stand. The cloak inflated like a spinnaker and dragged him back again even as he got to his feet, bent double against the pull.
Rad stayed on the ground, trying to get both breath and strength back. He watched the Science Pirate for a moment, expecting him to disappear into the night like Kane had. The Science Pirate continued to pull forward, but made no headway. Then Rad realised he was reaching out for help.
When the Science Pirate spoke, shouting against the wind, it wasn't the metallic ringing basso, altered and amplified by the helmet. It was quiet and dull, like someone shouting in another room. Rad didn't even register it at first. It was a woman's voice, far away.
Rad jumped up, hesitated, then ran towards the Science Pirate, steadily sliding closer to the door. He – she? – was still shouting. Rad stretched and grabbed her gauntlet with both hands. He winced as the hard metal edges of her glove bit into his flesh, but he squeezed his jaw shut and pulled as hard as he could. After a second, he let go with one hand and pointed furiously somewhere behind the Science Pirate.
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