The City in the Sky
CHAPTER 9

It was just before noon when they arrived at dock six. He paid Jeffie and tipped him handsomely. In return, the young driver exuberantly pumped his hand and thanked him vociferously. Mulligan could only watch in silent horror as the boy narrowly missed a pedestrian while piloting the vehicle into traffic.

James hastened past the many frigates, sloops, and galleons searching for the one called “The Kestrel”. Finally at the very end he spied a small schooner. It looked more befitting recreational flying rather than for long trips across the open skies. Mulligan was certain it couldn’t be the ship, but as he advanced, sure enough, there on the bow the words “The Kestrel” were scrawled in ornate script. Mulligan fought the dismay that chattered in his ear regarding the sky worthiness of the vessel and hailed the crew. The crewman standing beside the gangway beckoned him over.

“Welcome aboard The Kestrel, Mr. Mulligan”, said the short fellow. He lifted his goggles and sized up Mulligan with his large silver orbs.

“You’re a Clockwork?”

The man nodded. “The Captain has no qualms about hiring whoever she thinks is best for the job.”

“My apologies. I meant nothing by it”, said Mulligan, not wanting to get off on the wrong foot again.

The Clockwork just smiled. “None taken, Mr. Mulligan. You can call me Reg. I’m the Navigations Officer for the ship. Now if you will please join the Captain, we will be shoving off soon.”

“Yes, of course. Thank you, Reg.”

Captain Windfury was bent over a platform opposite the great brass steering wheel. As James got closer he could see that there were charts clamped to the platform, on which Windfury was busy scribbling notes with a piece of charcoal. Without looking up she said, “Glad yeh could make it, Mr. Mulligan. It would’ve pained me deeply if ye’d been left ashore.”

By now, James was becoming accustomed to Windfury’s curt affectations, though he still felt slightly uncertain how to respond to such remarks. Chalking the comment up to what he hoped passed for Windfury’s sense of humor, he played along.

“Forgive me if I find that hard to believe”, he responded.

A small smile momentarily played on Windfury’s lips as she continued plotting points across the maps. At once she stood upright and stared at the horizon. Slowly she began flipping colored lenses down in front of her monocle, which acted as a type of sextant. When she seemed satisfied, she summoned her crew and ordered them to their posts. Mulligan was impressed as each man did as commanded without hesitation or question. Once in position, the men sounded off one by one. Upon completion of this exercise, Jana turned the handle of a small brass wheel which allowed the boiler pressure to steadily build. From somewhere below decks Mulligan could hear muffled whirring and chugging noises. She watched the pressure gauge on the steering column, occasionally taking a sidelong glance at a patrolling Ministry corvette which was drifting lazily by. When the police vessel finally cleared the back of The Kestrel, Jana quietly ordered “gasmasks on”. Then she followed suit by donning a leather face mask with clear glass eye pieces and a distal hose that terminated in a filtration canister. She handed a similar mask to Mulligan and recommended he “do the same”. Mulligan had barely enough time to slip it into place before Windfury yelled, “On my mark, prepare to dive! In 3...2...1!”

She engaged the throttle and pushed the wheel forward. A burst of steam shot from the back of the ship, and with a groan the giant props began to turn. Slowly at first, but in no time they were screaming with rpm’s. The ship nosed downward at nearly 45 degrees. Mulligan grabbed for something to hold onto and ended up wrapping his arms around Windfury.

Instead of becoming upset at this, to James’ surprise, she laughed.

“Didn’t know yeh liked to move so fast Mr. Mulligan.”

“My apologies, madam. I was trying to keep...”

“No need to apologize, I like that in a man”, she yelled over the rushing wind.

Dumbstruck by her response, James stood there holding her for a moment until a cry came from the rear of the ship.

“Captain! They are turning about!”

“I guess this means yeh’ll need to be releasing me, Mr. Mulligan”, Jana suggested.

“Oh! Of course!“, said an embarrassed James with sudden realization. He quickly turned to grab the navigation platform behind him. Now facing the back of the ship he could see the Ministry corvette was about 300 yards away and closing.

“Damn, they’re fast”, grumbled Windfury.

A voice came across the void over the Ministry ship’s phonocast system.

“Unauthorized vehicle, halt or we will open fire!”

Windfury responded by ignoring the command and shoving The Kestrel’s throttle wide open. The little ship’s propellers screamed under the strain of the increased torque, but the blanket of black clouds were still about a kilometer away. Without warning the wooden rail next to Mulligan exploded. The sense of gallantry ingrained into Mulligan by his upbringing caused him to leap to Windfury’s side. He grabbed the wheel to steady himself as a barrage of splintered wood crashed against his back shielding the preoccupied Jana.

“Goddamnit, Mulligan, let go of the wheel!“, barked Windfury.

A second later the sound waves reached them with a loud “HISSSS”. Mulligan looked back at the pursuing corvette and saw it had turned broad side. A cloud of steam was still dissipating around the cannon which had fired upon them. They were now about 700 meters away from the cloud cover. A crackly, canned voice came over the Kestrel’s phonocast.

“Crash imminent, pull up!”

Windfury ignored this warning as well, and kept the ship on a steady course. A second ball flew by Mulligan’s head and almost severed one of the dirigible tethers. A short, pudgy crew member with a bushy white beard dove towards the wind whipped rope. After a short battle with the line he was able to create a canvas bandage around it. From above the corvette had also begun to dive in an attempt to intercept them. In response, Windfury forced the Kestrel into an even sharper dive prompting Mulligan to retighten his grip. The churn of the screws chewing the wind behind them filled his ears. His breath came in gulps against the confines of the mask. He looked down. Jana Windfury stood fixed like a statue, the only motion coming from her shaking hands fighting to steady the great brass wheel. The whole ship vibrated violently. Mulligan knew little about piloting an airship, but was sure the little schooner might capsize at any moment. As gravity took its toll, he felt the blood draining away from his face. His grip weakened with each passing second and stars bloomed in front of his eyes. For some reason his blood starved brain produced a vision of him sitting at dinner with Lucy. They laughed together and Mulligan felt giddy. The scene shifted and now they sat on the sofa. She rested her head on his chest as they watched the fire. The scent of jasmine still lingered as his ears popped. A horrible scraping noise assailed him as the hull of the Ministry cruiser grazed the Kestrel’s dirigible. The phono system gave a final warning of “Pull up!” before they plunged into the sea of darkness.

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