Hot and Steamy (26 page)

“
Attention!”
The word brought all activity within the ballroom to an immediate halt. “We have returned once more to the world, and as always, we are greeted by the bravest of the brave—the cleverest of the clever. As always, our time here is brief, but until we depart once more, let the music play, let the wine flow, and may our visitors be rewarded with their heart's desire for daring all to reach us—to reach mighty Xibor!”

With a gesture from the king, the music started once more, dozens of Xiborians rushing forward to pull each of their guests into the dance. Within minutes the gaiety reached the level of near madness, a swirling, festive insanity which staggered the visitors beyond reason—birds with dazzling plumage, performers juggling flaming knives, acrobats seemingly capable of dancing up the very walls, tables heaped high with every delicacy from coconuts to hummingbird's tongues on toast—

“Guess I was wrong, Spitz,” admitted Stevens. Reaching for a proffered goblet of wine, he added, “not that it would be the first time. Right, mate?”

The pilot took a long pull from his crystal chalice, forced to admit that even the grapes of Xibor seemed better than any others he had ever known. As his eyes came in contact with his fellows, it certainly seemed as if the king's words were coming true. To one side he saw Dollins, surrounded by what appeared to be the leaders of Xibor's military. They all seemed quite complimentary, in awe of the captain and whatever tale he was spinning for them.

Shifting his gaze, he spotted Filimena, who looked to have attracted the attention of the magical city's intelligentsia. She appeared to be explaining how she had determined the location of Xibor, much to the appreciation and even admiration of those around her.

“Hell, even ol' Spitzie's been done proper,” he thought, observing the chimp's antics as he danced atop a heaping mound of brilliantly yellow bananas and golden pineapples.

For a moment Stevens wondered if they might not have stumbled into something too good to be true, as if they were only being lulled into dropping their defenses. But, the pilot reasoned, not only would there be no need for such, considering the degree to which they were outnumbered, but also every face appeared to be filled with genuine joy at their arrival. It seemed little doubt that Xibor was willing to do anything possible to fulfill the king's dictate that the city's visitors be granted their heart's desire. And then, suddenly, he blinked, unable to believe his eyes.

Crossing the room before him, in a gown of shimmering white brocade, was his Rose.

“I don't believe it . . .”

More beautiful than he remembered her, her eyes filled with a love he could scarcely believe, Rose Beckett walked toward him, her white gloved arms extended, her hair flowing behind her, woven with lilies, her mouth forming the words of love he could barely imagine her ever saying to him. Seeing her, his heart aching, he did what he knew he had to: he drew his Robbins and Lawrence pepperbox, pointed it upward and pulled the trigger.

The weapon discharged with an enormous sound in the small area of the Gibraltar's bridge, immediately snapping the others to their senses. As Dollins sputtered, Filimena shrieked and Spitz gibbered, Stevens shouted into the relay tube: “All hands, ramming speed!”

Swinging the great wheel of the
Gibraltar
around, he then aimed the massive airship at that which had truly appeared upon the sands of the Dasht-i-Kavir, a staggering colossus of nightmare, a thing tall as a mountain and wide as a river! A screeching black mound of teeth and tentacles, it threw forth a thousand grasping feelers, all of them covered in rough spikes of bone, looking to tear the
Gibraltar
from the sky!

Dollins and Filimena searched the forward portal for any sign of Xibor, but the city had vanished, somehow replaced by the demonic monstrosity before them. Where had the ballroom gone, they wondered. Their honors, their glory? How could it have vanished? Even Spitz appeared dazed, unable to comprehend to where the peach he had so recently been devouring had vanished.

“Ignite the gasbags,” bellowed Stevens, “prepare the explosive charges. It means our deaths, lads, but we'll take that hellhound with us!”

And, as Dollins and Filimena looked on in horror, barely able to comprehend what had happened to their dreams, AppleJack Stevens steered the
Gibraltar
directly toward the mouth of damnation.

 

“I suppose you're feelin' pretty smug right about now?”

“Well, any reason I shouldn't, captain—sir?”

Not answering the pilot directly, Dollins turned to Filimena and said: “And that, my dear Miss Edgars, is why I said from the beginning there was no way I was'eadin' off to look for Xibor without my boy Jackie at my side.”

Downing a long pull from a LaRaja, Stevens added, “If I were modest, I'd disagree.”

Seated across the table from the pilot, Filimena continued to stare downward, unable to raise her eyes to meet those of anyone else in the room. She had gambled all she had on proving her intelligence, and had been duped and used by some horror from beyond. As the bridge grew quiet, she felt the eyes of the others as if they were probing her—hungry. Waiting.

“I suppose,” she finally said to Stevens in a whisper, “that our thanks should be given to you.”

“Indeed,” added Dollins, “but if I might, what exactly are we thankin' you for? What
did
you do?”

“Yes,” asked Filimena. “How did you know? How did we escape . . . the ballroom, the crash . . .”

“I was just lucky,” the pilot answered magnanimously. Taking another deep swig from his favorite brand of bitters, he explained, “That thing, whatever it was . . . it had a harder time with me that with either of you because I didn't believe there actually
was
a Xibor to reach. That whole thing about giving us our heart's desire . . . you two wanted to find it for reasons of your own. Me, well . . . my heart's desire was seeing us get home in one piece.”

“But you were seeing the same vision we were, correct?” When the pilot admitted to Filimena's point, she asked, “If that's so, then what did it show you that you were somehow able to resist . . . unlike the rest of us?”

“Don't be too hard on yourself. The accolades it fed you and the captain, you deserve them. Why shouldn't you believe what you were seeing? But me, there was nothing it could offer me that I didn't already have, so it gambled, trying something I knew I couldn't have.” Stevens took a draining swallow from his LaRaja. “Luckily for all of us I stopped believing I deserved more out of life than three squares and a monkey's friendship long ago.”

“I won't argue with you at this moment, my boy, over what you do and don't deserve,” said Dollins, “but I still don't understand what 'appened. I mean, one minute we're in that fancy throne room, then we're 'ere and you're lookin' to shove the
Gibraltar
down that thing's throat, and then of a sudden—bang—no Xibor, no monster, just us . . . floatin' over the desert like birdies with nothin' better to do.”

“I took a gamble of my own, captain,” answered the pilot. “When I realized this thing was playing with our minds, I wondered if we might not be able to fight fire with fire. So, after I broke its control by sending a round into the ceiling—sorry about the mess, by the way—”

“Just tell the story, Jackie.”

“Sorry again. Anyway, having broken its dream for us, I . . . Gods, what would the word be . . . I willed myself to create one for it. When I threw out my blood and thunder images, I . . . our minds, well, they ‘touched,' I guess . . . and I saw through to its heart, found that it does this on a thousand, a
million
different worlds. It shows creatures what they want, gets them in close, then eats them.”

Filimena shuddered. Dollins laughed, slamming the table with his fist as he shouted: “One in a million, you are my boy, and I'm grateful to you as Abraham when 'e'eard 'e didn't have to slice up 'is son. Now, findin' myself famished, I'm 'eading to the galley for the biggest platter of anything I can find. Who's with me?”

When only Spitz volunteered to join him, the captain nodded with a twinkle in his eye and headed off with his chief mechanic to celebrate still being alive. Once they were gone, Filimena, her cheeks still red, her spirit still flagging, said quietly, “You've certainly have put me in my place, haven't you, Mr. Stevens?”

“Really, Miss Edgars,” the pilot offered gallantly, “we, each of us, has to learn sooner or later we're not all we think we are. Me learning it and ending up in the Bristol Debt House is the only reason that thing couldn't get a handle on me like it did you and the captain . . . and even Spitzie.”

“Still,” the young woman said, her voice warmer than he had ever heard it, “I feel I should offer you some kind of reward, for saving us all.”

“Well,” answered the pilot, his tone soft and understanding, “you know, when you were working with the captain on the course and all, I have to admit I did greatly enjoy listening to you play that harp of yours.”

For the first time since their shared dream had ended, Filimena looked up, her eyes locking with Stevens'. The pair smiled at one another, and for their entire voyage home there was beautiful music between them.

S
eeing the world below took my breath away. This is why I needed to be part of an airship crew, and this is why I came to the New World. Here it wasn't only the upper-class elite who could travel on an airship; here it was anyone willing to work, even the daughter of a German farmer. Sheila Ann Marie VonShelton. The name is fun to say, but to my friends “Sheila” is just fine.

My skills are not typical for an airshipman. You will not see me up to my elbows in grease. No, I bring the fine art of logistics. The best farms are finely tuned machines. My family ran one of the best in all of Germany. As the eldest, and the only daughter of nine children, I learned a great many things. Between the family farm, schooling, and helping raise eight siblings, I became a master of logistics, doing the most with the least and in the quickest amount of time. Father called me “gifted.”

Looking down through the light clouds, I spied a V-shaped flock of geese heading south-southeast. I returned to reviewing the itinerary and the catalog of our current supplies. If you have a ship on the move you need to have everything in order. This is especially true on airships. Don't pack hundreds of things you don't need; it only weighs the ship down. Don't pack two months of food; you can stop and restock.

It was time to head toward the cargo hold to see what “miscellaneous important crates” really meant on the inventory. The
Akula
was not a large airship; it could hold a crew of a dozen if needed, with bunks for six that could be shared between shifts. Our cargo capacity was only two tons at best. For today's journey our crew count was four: the pilot, the mechanic, the captain, and myself. To be honest, they all gave me the creeps. No matter where I went they stared at me when they thought I wasn't looking. It wasn't that they'd never seen a girl before. During the interviews there were lots of young women looking to join airship crews. Come to think of it, most of the applicants for the
Akula
were women. Goosebumps shot up my arms. Great work, Sheila, you couldn't have thought about this
before
you were alone and over a thousand feet in the air with them. At least I could find some privacy in the cargo hold.

Entering the hold, I quickly shut the door, then moved one of the larger crates in front just to be sure they couldn't sneak in on me. Now who's being paranoid? The light from the cargo window provided just enough to read the clipboard. Wedging the crowbar into the nearest crate and pressing down, the nails gave a steady groan. Dark green wool blankets were tucked around the top. Pulling back the top blanket, I noticed a large camera. It was strange not to mark a crate with something so valuable inside. Then a thin sleeve of pink lace caught my eye. I gently pulled the camera, still attached to a small extending tripod, out of the crate. Underneath was a crazy assortment of clothing. Holding up the pink lace dress it was hard to tell the front from the back. The neckline plunged dangerously low. It looked like something you would see at a burlesque show. It was surprisingly small, oddly my size. Turning away, I threw the silken outrage aside and vomited in the corner of the hold.

My mind raced, certain they intended to put me in this dress and take my picture . . . or worse.

Three men I didn't know, a thousand feet in the air, and regrets for not taking my father's offer of a small pistol all flashed through my mind. Sucking in a deep breath and speaking a brief prayer, I focused. Maybe there was something else in here that would help me. If nothing else, at least I had the crowbar. Prying open the next crate I discovered random aviation gear. A heavy leather jacket way too big for me and a few sets of thick goggles wouldn't help.

I needed to confront the men. But if I could find a weapon, I would feel a bit more evenly matched if things went bad.

And speaking of bad, a metallic groan caught my attention. It was quickly followed by a vibration and a much louder moaning of metal as the cargo hold tipped to port. The crates tipped. Aviation gear spilled over the decking as my hands clung to the nearby cargo netting. I heard yelling above as the crates slid toward the front of the cargo hold. The nose of the ship must be pointing down at a severe angle. The crates gathered in front of the only door leading toward the inside of the ship. Following the netting, I made my way to the lone window. The ground was still a long ways off, but it was clear airships didn't descend this quickly unless they were going down for good. Something was wrong with the ship.