He checked a spinning timepiece on the main control panel.It was mounted on several moving disks that allowed it to stay flat andreadable during altitude changes and any other movement. The glistening brassshone in the sunlight filling the bridge. Seeing him squinting, two crewmemberspulled down thin, translucent sunshades, taking the worst blast off the sun’srays. “I estimate about twenty minutes until our arrival. Better go prepareyour men.
“Don’t be a stranger, Tribune!” he added as Constantinenodded and made to leave. “My door is always open. Figuratively, of course, soplease knock before you enter. By the by, would you do me the honor of diningwith me tonight after our little escapade? I can truly say I’ll be rightlyfamished by the time we’re done.”
Constantine hadn’t been able to leave the base at all duringhis basic training periods, so he readily agreed. They made plans to meet lateroutside the main dining hall, where they would dine with the officers, ratherthan the enlisted men. Tradition held that new cohorts always ate togetherduring training, officers included. With training done, the separation of rankspromptly began.
With their business concluded, the men saluted each other.Constantine noted with pleasure that the captain’s salute was much crisper thistime. “May the gods be with you, Tribune, and with your men. Especially thewind gods-pray for gentle winds.”
Constantine nodded once, then did an about-face and marchedfrom the bridge, Airman Souzetio trailing him.
Julius gripped his carpteneo tightly. The foot-longmechanism weighed about three pounds and had an opening where the rope came infrom the top and another opening where it exited the bottom. Side grips couldapply pressure to the rope to slow his descent. It could be controlled withjust one hand, but Julius did not plan to take any chances. I’m definitelyusing two hands on this.
Just a second ago, he had watched a junior flight officerattach his carpteneo to the line, an audible click-clicksignaling that both hooks had latched securely to the harness around his thighsand waist. The man walked backward right off the edge of the ship and wasinstantly gone, rapidly sliding down the rope. Everyone who was in a positionto watch had leaned over the side of the ship, watching the midshipman swing inthe breeze until finally touching down. He unlatched himself and pounded ametal loop into the ground. Pushing the rope through, he pulled it as taut aspossible against the resistance of the airship gently bobbing in the wind.
The same wind billowed Airman Souzetio’s leather jacket. Hehad left it unzipped, as they were less than fifty feet above the ground, andthe warm breeze was pleasant. He was instructing Julius’s group. The rest ofthe 13th Cohort was split among the three other airdrop positions at the sternof the airship. The two levels of open decking allowed for several drop points.Julius’s group was on the port side of A Deck, the lowest level of the ship.
“Alright, lads, this is your first real chance to show whatyou’ve learned. Remember, when you first get off the ship, it’s okay to go abit slow. Don’t lose your head. Breathe! Loosen your hand, count to two,squeeze, and repeat. That will get you down the rope nice and steady. If thiswere a real combat drop, you’d be dropping straight down most of the way toavoid any skillful ambusher, while we get to be honking great stationarytargets.” He looked around. “Alright you men, who is going to be the first totest the Fates?”
Several men shuffled. Julius almost raised his hand, thenturned the movement into a nervous arm rub. Even I’m not quite ready to bethe first.
Tribune Appius spoke from the back of the group. “If youweaklings won’t volunteer, then I will take the lead.” He pushed his way to thefront. “After all, you’ve got to see how a real man does this.”
He patiently allowed the airman to take him through thesteps again, even though they all understood the routine by heart.
“Clamp your carpteneo to the rope. Make sure the rope isgoing the right way so you won’t be stuck speeding up instead of slowingdown!” Several laughs escaped from the tight, nervous lips of those in histraining group.
“Attach your carpteneo to your harness-make sure you hearthe clicks. Then you approach the deck edge, and place your feet on the edgelike so.” He guided Constantine to the edge of the deck until he now stood at aforty-five degree angle, back toward the empty air, hands tightly squeezing thecarpteneo. It was the only thing keeping him anchored to the ship. “Ah, onelast thing. Put your goggles on so that you can actually see the ground comingup at you! It would not do for us to have to scrape you off the ground with aspatula.”
“Mister Souzetio,” the tribune said, “my hands are currentlyoccupied, could you …?”
The airman gently pulled the lightweight flying goggles fromthe metal helmet on Constantine’s head down over his eyes. He spent a fewseconds adjusting them.
“Thank you, Mister Souzetio. And now, one last word.”Constantine looked around, and smiled thinly. “I’ll see you on the ground. Lastman down runs extra laps tonight.” With that, Constantine pushed off hard,flying backward into space.
Julius looked over the rail and saw him following the squeeze,wait, release, and repeat steps. The tribune looked like a spider that waslowering herself down a strand of web: dropping, then evaluating, then droppingagain. Less than a minute later, Tribune Appius was on the ground, waving atthem in an unmistakable Come here gesture.
The rest of the training squad lined up to descend the rope.Julius found himself third in line, behind Recruit Gnacius and RecruitKavalinus. A tap on his shoulder prompted Julius to turn to see Gwendyrnsmiling grimly.
“If you stop, I’m not. You’ll just be dead, city boy.”Gwendyrn’s laugh was hard. “I plan on getting down as fast as possible withoutbreaking any body part.”
Julius frowned. He had been planning on taking it nice andslow, but with Gwendyrn behind him, he would have to speed up the pace.
Recruit Gnacius latched himself onto the cable and, underSouzetio’s coaching, approached the edge. Finally, with a half-terrified,half-croaked, “Hoorah!” he thrust himself out into space. The rope wenttaut as it bore his weight, but there was no indication of stress. At leastthat was what it seemed like to Julius, who was nervously watching for anyindication of malfunction in his or the ship’s equipment.
Gwendyrn caught Julius’s expression. “Are you nervous? Areyou afraid of dying? There are a lot more things that you’re better offworrying about. Look at it this way-if your equipment fails, not only will yourfamily be able to get your death benefit, but your short life will end quicklyand with little pain. Many others would be jealous!” His orange mustachequivered, then he nearly doubled over in laughter.
Julius smacked him on the shoulder. Does he take thesehorrible lines from a book somewhere? No, Gwendyrn would never stoop toactually reading a book. Aloud he growled, “Shut up before I‘accidentally’ cut your harness strap.”
Recruit Kavalinus went over the side, still muttering aprayer to Jupiter.
“Keep on moving. We don’t have all day!” Airman Souzetiomotioned for Julius to move up. Julius swallowed the lump in his throat andshuffled ahead.
Souzetio helped him latch his carpteneo onto the mainline. The man’s brown eyes found his. He nodded. “You can do this. Don’t doubtyourself. Just follow your training. It’s the best feeling in the world, afterthis first go. This one is all about getting rid of the nerves. Next one is allenjoyment,” he murmured reassuringly.
“Good luck, don’t make a big splotch for me to land in!”called Gwendyrn.