by Sean Kennedy
Jazz grumbled at the thought of another series of nights sleeping in the Lilliput. Normally she wasn’t so fastidious; Ezra believed she was just trying to get his goat. But after their arrival, he made her stomach full with a good hearty dinner and a few good ales, and she became more amenable to the situation and followed him back to the ship without protest.
“Those ales were good, Kneebone,” she said with an enthusiastic burp as she burrowed beneath her blanket and put her feet upon the console.
“Glad you enjoyed them,” he replied.
“You know what?” she asked suddenly.
“What?”
“I still don’t understand why you let him go when he was on the platform. You’re the one who was pushing to capture him. I never did. I think it’s a bad way to make money.”
He let her talk to herself. He couldn’t really understand why he let him go, either. It wasn’t even like the kiss had happened. And it made everything more confusing now that Icarus had saved his life. Could you really coldheartedly go after someone, when they were the reason you were still breathing?
“We could have been rich,” Jazz continued.
He felt like she was goading him into some corner where he wouldn’t be able to escape. “We could have,” he agreed.
“But then we would have lost our souls.”
Ah, there was the trap. “There’s always that,” he said, trying to sound nonchalant about it all.
“We won’t lose our souls to Bart if we take her money.”
Her eyes were closed, but Ezra still felt like he was being watched intently.
“I think I’m safe, but you lost your soul to Bart a long time ago.”
He watched Jazz grin and turn her head slightly to attempt to hide it. “That may be. Now let me sleep.”
He did so, glad the interrogation was over for the night.
THE skies above Waulkham Hills were more crowded than the streets below. Jazz kept her cool as she guided the Lilliput between dirigibles of various sizes, some faster and others infinitely slower than their own. Ezra had to grit his teeth a couple of times when they came dangerously close to collision, although he knew better. That was one thing Harding had been right about—Jazz’s engineering skills were renowned, but her piloting skills surpassed even those.
The engines strained as Jazz pushed them to the brink, seeking less populated air. At last they seemed alone on the waves of wind that buffeted them mercilessly. It wasn’t the best day for flying, but Ezra didn’t want to lose any more time in the hunt for Icarus. An old man in the town had been happy to talk about Icarus, and give his theories about where he thought he was hiding and what he got up to in his spare time. Jazz had rolled her eyes the whole time, but Ezra took the information seriously. He could tell it was still weighing upon Jazz’s mind, and true to form, she brought it up again.
“Do you think that information that crazy old coot gave you was legit?”
“The money talked, didn’t it?” Ezra asked.
“I hate it when you answer a question with a question.”
“At least you won’t be disappointed by my answer.”
Jazz rolled her eyes, a familiar motion. “That guy probably rolled you. Took your money and fed you a story.”
“It was more of a lead than any other we’ve had.”
“Isn’t it our only lead?”
“Don’t distract me with the cold hard truth. Just keep flying.”
“Sure thing, Boss. I’ll do my job, and you do… whatever it is you do.”
Ezra bellowed with laughter, and Jazz finally let herself go as well. The merriment seemed to have a boosting effect upon their engines, and the Lilliput sailed into the great blue yonder with what seemed like an added zest.
“I THINK we’re lost.”
Jazz tapped the console, which was casting a static-filled map above their heads. The map shimmered and then wiped out.
“Now you’ve done it.”
“Just needs a little love.” Jazz stroked the console gently, and the map came back online. She frowned at the topography rendered in green light. “I don’t like it. I get the feeling we’re heading off into the middle of nowhere.”
“What exactly gets your gander up about it?”
“Icarus is only ever seen with his wings. And you got a closer look at them than most, Kneebone. Do you really think they could carry him such a long distance? The fuel alone wouldn’t fit in that rig-up he has.”
In all the moments that he had spent recently consumed by thoughts of Icarus, Ezra hadn’t really thought about the logistics of his mechanized wings. And now that his attention had been drawn to it, he felt dim-witted for not having thought of it before. “Maybe he has a ship.”
“What, and then switches to his wings?” Jazz asked. “Why bother?”
“Think about it,” Ezra said, more to cover up the fact that he was only beginning to himself. “Waulkham Hills is full of ships. What better than to hide amongst them, and only emerge with his wings when he is ready to strike?”
“But all of those ships are only there because they’re looking for him!” Jazz protested. “What about before the bounty, when he didn’t have an audience? Back when nobody knew a thing about him? He would have been easy to spot then if he was flying off to a ship.”
Ezra shrugged. “I don’t know. And we probably won’t know, either. All we can do is go on this information and hope we haven’t been stung.”
“Maybe he has a gang,” Jazz mused, but that train of thought was lost by both of them as a strange alarm sounded from the console.
“What’s that?” Ezra asked. He had never heard a warning with that exact sound before. He didn’t like it when his own ship surprised him.
Jazz’s hand flew over the interface as she kept the other on the control. “I programmed the news nets to crawl for any word on Icarus and tell me when something new popped up.”
Ezra wished he had thought of that. With her mechanical and piloting skills, plus her damn street smarts, he often felt superfluous to his own operation. “Good thinking.”
“I know. I’m brilliant.”
“And so modest.”
“That too.” She grinned as the air above them flickered and a new headline appeared.
ICARUS STRIKES WAULKHAM TRAIN AGAIN.
Ezra cursed, and was quickly echoed by Jazz.
“We’re in the wrong fucking place!”
“Turn us around!” he ordered.
“Aye, Captain.”
Ezra’s fingers clenched the arms of his chair as the Lilliput banked to the left, with Jazz executing a hard turn. He caught a stomach-churning glimpse of the ground as their tail dipped downwards, but Jazz quickly had them righted again and heading back in the direction they had come from.
“Push her as fast as she can go,” he said through gritted teeth.
Jazz nodded, as mad as he was that they were once again behind everybody else when they thought for once they were ahead.
Ezra skimmed over the brief text provided with the headline. That Icarus sure had some balls on him, to attempt another raid on the same train in the same town, especially when that town had recently increased its ranks with a population specifically out to target his ass.
Even though he knew Jazz had already set the search in place, he kept refreshing for any additions to the story on Icarus. Would Harding even be in the air by now? It would burn his goat if that shit of a man outplayed him again, especially after Ezra’s pleasure at turning down his offer and briefly holding that position of superiority. Well, at least until Harding had injured the Lilliput and made them lose valuable days of searching.
“Can’t we go any faster?” he demanded.
“Do you want to sit on top and flap your arms?” Jazz asked.
“Would it help?”
“Try it and find out.”
If he thought it would have gotten them back to Waulkham Hills any quicker, he would have done so and quacked like a duck all the way. Luc
kily he was saved from this by Jazz hissing between her teeth.
“We have company!”
He couldn’t see anything ahead of them, but their sensors were picking up something a little more long-range. “Two—no, three—three ships heading our way.”
“I see them,” Jazz said.
He knew she meant that figuratively—her eyesight wasn’t that good.
“It’s almost like they’re on a collision course. Take us lower.”
Jazz throttled the control, and the Lilliput began to slowly drop altitude.
“Not fast enough,” Ezra warned.
“There’s not much I can do about that at the moment,” she fired back.
He put up his hands in surrender. “Just saying.”
She was worried. He could tell by the pinpricks of sweat that beaded her temples. And when Jazz worried, you truly knew you were in the shit.
Ezra ran the two steps to the back of the cockpit. He fumbled against the wall, from which the sound of the engine growled. “Releasing sandbags,” he yelled back.
“Good.”
It wouldn’t do much, but it could be enough. Dropping the sandbags but leaving them attached to their ropes could jolt them down far enough to accelerate their descent.
“I can see the other ships now!” Jazz yelled. “Outsized class. This could be bad.”
“How can they not see us?” Ezra fumed. His hand whacked against the lever that controlled the sandbags, and he yelped in pain. He yanked on it, and felt the Lilliput jerk at the redistribution of weight.
“Because all they’re concentrating on is Icarus!”
Ezra shot up immediately at the sound of the outlaw’s name, and hit his head against the slanted roof. He shook himself to gain some clarity again, and emerged behind Jazz’s chair to peer around her.
“Icarus?”
“Our little friend is being pursued by our would-be rammers.”
Looking out their cockpit window, all he could see were three far-off specks that looked like dust against the glass. He consulted the sensors, and the specks became more defined. One speck was being engulfed by the size of the others. He adjusted the reader and brought the sensors into sharper focus.
And he could then see Icarus.
The fugitive folk hero was desperately trying to outrun the ships, but he was fighting a losing battle. As Ezra had concluded, the wings were not designed for long-term travel. Perhaps Icarus had been caught out and never made it to his ship, so had decided to try and find somewhere to hunker down. But the bounty hunters desperate to catch him were too quick this time.
It was madness, sheer madness, to attempt to strike the same train so soon. Perhaps Icarus had become too influenced by the stories and songs that were now being created about him; did he foolishly believe that he truly was infallible? If so, he was going to learn the hard way.
“There goes your money,” Jazz said.
Ezra felt fire in his belly. It irked him that Jazz was putting it in such a light, even though he had done his best to convince her all along that it was how he felt about the whole situation. All he knew for sure was that he didn’t like seeing Icarus in danger. One ship going after the man for his bounty was fair game; this was a gang-up that could result in his death.
“Just get around the other side of him,” he instructed.
Jazz shrugged, obviously wanting to say more but declining to do so.
The vague shapes on the horizon became more defined as the distance between them and the Lilliput decreased. The atmosphere in their cockpit was growing tense; Jazille had no idea what they were going to do, and Ezra wasn’t being very accommodating.
“Did you bring a butterfly net?” Jazz quipped.
Ezra glared at her. “Very funny.”
“Well, we need a plan.”
“We have a plan. Get Icarus.”
“We haven’t planned for all contingencies.”
“You want contingencies? Dammit, this was pretty unforeseen!”
“Everything you’re involved in is unforeseen! Because you never plan!” Jazz whacked the throttle, and managed to coax a little more speed out of the Lilliput’s engines.
“Why plan, when nothing goes to plan?”
They were yelling at each other now, and it wasn’t helping.
“Because things would go easier if we had plans! Because then when something happens, we can say, oh, Plan D allowed for that! So let’s go for Plan D!”
Ezra briefly imagined pushing her out the door and watching her fall a long way to her death. “Would Plan D involve a butterfly net?”
“Screw you, Kneebone!”
“Aah, screw yourself.”
There was no heat in either of their epithets to one another. Ezra’s murderous vision was forgotten as soon as quickly as it had come; they were both now intent on catching up to the winged man before anybody else did.
Ezra fell to the floor as the Lilliput was hit by something, and shuddered under the impact.
“All plans, however, involve you wearing your seatbelt!” Jazz admonished him as if she were his mother.
He ignored her, and picked himself up. “What was that?”
“We’re being fired at,” Jazz said calmly, as if she were announcing that it was a sudden rain shower.
“They mean business.”
“Don’t we all?” Jazz asked, flicking a switch above her head. “Preparing guns.”
She coolly consulted the readouts from the console and aligned the turrets so they would be able to find their prey easily.
“Try not to hit Icarus,” Ezra warned her.
“Taking him out might be the best option.”
“Don’t even joke about it.”
“Doesn’t the reward cover dead or alive?”
Her gallows humor did not amuse him. “Just get us to him.”
“Then you make sure you hit those other bastards before they take us out.”
Ezra activated the gun controls from his console, and began zeroing in on the closest dirigible. He targeted their gun ports and fired.
They were rewarded with the sight of a small blaze of fire licking along the side of the airship, and a thick plume of smoke that followed. The ship began to lose speed, and in doing so managed to work on their behalf as it collided with the ship behind it. As the sky filled with even more smoke from the damage sustained by both ships, they dropped back, thereby leaving only one to continue chasing Icarus.
“Good shot,” Jazz said approvingly.
“Glad you think so.” His fingers danced over the sensors. “But they’re firing up.”
“Beginning evasive maneuvers.”
“Might be too late for that.”
Jazz hissed between her teeth. “Just watch me.”
The Lilliput banked sharply to the left, just as a spray of bullet fire passed them—so close, Ezra could see them fly past his window.
“That’s some impressive weaponry they have,” he said with all admiration. They had been little more than streaks of light, but he could tell that the bullets were professionally produced, unlike the ones he and Jazz had to make by hand.
“Yeah?” Jazz asked. “Well, they must have money.”
“They’re preparing to fire again.”
“Goddammit, Kneebone, we have to get out of here!”
“Get me Icarus first!”
Jazz cursed him, and the Lilliput banked to the right this time.
Ezra quickly looked out the window, but couldn’t see the bullets again. “I think they missed us.”
He was almost felled to the floor as the Lilliput was struck from behind.
Jazz didn’t even have time for a retort as she checked the console for damage readouts. “Two strikes to the aft. We’re losing fuel, Kneebone.”
But Ezra’s attention was on the sensors, where they were showing him that Icarus was also in trouble.
“He’s losing altitude.”
“So will we, soon enough!”
“Just get us
under him!”
The ground lurched below them sickeningly as Jazz forced the Lilliput to begin a nosedive. Ezra could see the underbelly of the other dirigible above them, and watched as they fell away and it began to disappear from view. He forced himself to look away and find Icarus on the sensors. He was now flying erratically, but it seemed to be from trouble with his wings rather than evasion of capture.
“Almost there,” Jazz said. “But you’re getting us almost killed if we can’t pull up on time.”
“I have faith in you.”
She snorted by way of reply.
He found it strangely comforting. But he was distracted by the fact that he could now see Icarus above them; Jazz knew how to do her job well. Rather than relying upon the sensors, Ezra could recognize for himself that Icarus had lost control of his wings. He was plummeting now; the only thing between him and the ground, and his death, was the Lilliput.
But even if Icarus crashed into the Lilliput, it could still kill him at that speed.
“I’m releasing the emergency chute,” he told Jazz.
She threw him a look. “What? We don’t need it! I can land us!”
“I’m doing it to catch Icarus.”
“He needs a pillow to land on?” Jazz asked.
“Something not to kill him, yeah.”
“You’re sure being considerate of our prisoner.”
He ignored her; time was running out. He ran to the back of the cockpit, while Jazz made sure they stayed beneath Icarus.
Ezra yanked the lever that led to a small crawlspace into the engines. He scooted on his butt to face the small ceiling within. There was a system of four pulleys that would activate the chute. He could accommodate two in each hand, and in doing so could pull all four of them at the same time.
When he did so, there was a rush of air within the small space, and part of the roof rolled away. Ezra could see a small package attached to ropes disappear out the hole into the screaming wind. The package began to unfurl, and a massive parachute opened up above the Lilliput.
It was a strangely beautiful thing, but Ezra had forgotten that it packed quite a punch when it was launched. As soon as the wind caught the underside of the material in order to billow it out and the chute became active, the Lilliput shot further back into the sky. Ezra’s body lurched toward the ceiling, and he hit his head against the metal. Blood flowed freely from the wound created by the impact, and as Ezra fell onto his back again, it ran into his eyes. He tried to blink the thick fluid away.
