Frey grinned. ‘I’d kiss that kid if he wasn’t so hideous and stupid.’ He looked about. ‘Where’s Harkins?’
Jez pointed up through the windglass to the Firecrow hanging high on their starboard side.
‘Tell him to engage,’ he said, then shifted in his seat and hunched forward over the controls. ‘Keep ’em off my tail.’
Jez reached over to the electroheliograph and tapped a rapid code. The lamp on the Ketty Jay’s back flashed the sequence. Harkins gave a wing-waggle and broke away.
The winds were rising as the storm clouds rolled ever closer. Frey’s admiration for Jez had grown a great deal in the moment he saw those thunderheads appear on the horizon. She’d been right on the money. Again. It was an unfamiliar feeling, having someone reliable on his crew. He was rather liking it.
‘Wind is from the northwest today, and it’s sunny,’ she’d said. ‘Warm air rising off the mountains up the side of the plateau, cooled by the airstream coming down from the arctic. This time of the day, this kind of weather, you’re gonna get a storm there.’
The kind of storm a small fighter craft couldn’t handle. But a bigger one, driven by the notoriously robust Blackmore P-12 thrusters—that kind of craft could make it through.
Crake stuck his head round the door. ‘Anything I can do?’
‘Where’ve you been?’
‘Bess was upset. All the explosions, you see.’
‘We’ll try and keep it down,’ Frey replied dryly. ‘Get me a damage report from Silo.’
Crake ran off down the corridor to comply. Frey returned his attention to the storm. The Ketty Jay rocked and shivered as the winds began to play around her. Machine-gun fire sounded from behind them.
‘There goes Harkins,’ Frey said. ‘Malvery! What’s going on back there?’
‘They dodged round him! Still coming!’
‘Well make sure you—’ he began, but was drowned out by the heavy thudding of the autocannon as Malvery opened up on their pursuers.
Frey cursed under his breath and swung the Ketty Jay to starboard. He heard the chatter of machine guns, and a spray of tracer fire passed under them and soared away towards the clouds.
‘Will you hold still?’ Malvery bellowed. ‘I ain’t gonna hit anything if you keep jigging around like that!’
‘I’m jigging around so they don’t hit us!’ Frey shouted back, then banked again, dived, and yawed to port. The Ketty Jay was a sizeable target, but she could move faster than her bulk suggested. Her pursuers were still at the limit of their range, but they were catching fast.
‘You know the worst thing about flying an aircraft like this?’ he asked Jez. ‘You can’t see behind you. I’m just guessing where those sons of bitches are while they take pot-shots at my arse. I wish, just once, someone would have the guts to take us on from the front so I could shoot ’em.’
‘Sounds like it wouldn’t be a very wise tactic, Cap’n,’ she replied. ‘But we can hope.’
The storm was filling the sky now. They were flying in low, and the thunderheads had swallowed the sun. The cockpit darkened, and the air got choppier still. The Ketty Jay began to rattle around, buffeted this way and that.
‘Let’s see ’em aim straight in this,’ he murmured. ‘Signal Harkins. Tell him to get out of here. He knows the rendezvous.’
Jez complied, tapping the electroheliograph.
A few moments later, Malvery yelled: ‘Hey! Harkins is turning tail! That yellow toad was supposed to be—’
‘My orders!’ Frey yelled back. ‘He can’t follow us into the storm. It’s up to you now.’
‘You’re giving orders now?’ Malvery sounded surprised. ‘Blimey.’ Then the autocannon began thumping again in clipped bursts.
Crake appeared at the door. ‘Silo says the engines have taken a hit and they’re overheating, but it’s nothing too serious. Other than that there’s only minor structural—’
There was a shattering din as a salvo of bullets punched into the Ketty Jay’s hull from behind. She yawed crazily, hit a pressure pocket in the storm and plunged fifteen metres, fast enough to lift Crake off the ground and slam him to the floor again. The engines groaned and squealed, reached a distressing crescendo, then slowly returned to their usual tone.
Crake pulled himself up from the floor, wiping blood from a split lip. ‘I’ll get a damage report from Silo, shall I?’ he enquired.
‘Don’t bother,’ said Frey. ‘Just hang on to something.’
Crake clutched at the metal jamb of the cockpit door as the Ketty Jay began to shake violently. Frey dumped some of the aerium gas from the tanks to add weight and stability to the craft, letting the thrusters take the strain instead. Getting the balance right was crucial. A craft like the Ketty Jay, unlike its outflyers, wasn’t aerodynamic enough to fly without the aid of its lighter-than-air ballast. It couldn’t produce enough lift to maintain its bulk.
The thunderheads rushed towards them, inky billows flashing with angry lightning. Wind and pressure differentials began to shove them this way and that. The world outside darkened rapidly as they hit the outer edge of the clouds. A blast of blinding light, terrifyingly close at hand, made Crake cower. Jez glanced over at him and gave him a sympathetic smile. He firmed his resolve and stood straighter.
‘Doc! Are they still with us?’ Frey howled over the rising wail of the wind. There was no reply. ‘Doc!’
‘What?’ Malvery cried back irritably.
‘Are they still with us?’
A long pause.
‘Doc! ’ Frey screamed.
‘I’m bloody looking! ’ Malvery roared back. ‘It’s dark out there!’ Then, a moment later, he boomed a triumphant laugh. ‘They’re turning tail, Cap’n! Running off home!’
Jez beamed in relief.
The Ketty Jay was pushed from beneath by a pressure swell and veered steeply, dislodging Crake’s grip on the jamb and sending him careering into a wall. It was black as night outside. Frey flicked on the headlights, but that only lit up the impenetrable murk that had closed in on them.
‘I can’t help noticing we’re still in the storm,’ said Crake.
Jez supplied the answer, since Frey was concentrating on flying. ‘We need to put some distance between them and us. Otherwise they might just pick up the chase again when we emerge.’
‘And what happens if some of that lightning hits us?’ he asked, not really wanting to know the answer.
‘We’ll probably explode,’ Frey said. Crake went grey. Jez opened her mouth to say something but at that moment the craft was shaken again. Frey could hear things clattering about in the mess, and something cracked and burst noisily out in the corridor. Water began to spray everywhere.
‘Is this tub even going to hold together?’ Crake demanded.
‘She’ll hold,’ Frey murmured. ‘And if you call her a tub again, I’ll kick you out right now, and you and your metal friend can fly home.’
‘What, and miss my chance to attend Gallian Thade’s Winter Ball? Just try and—’
There was a stunning flash of light and everything went black. All lights, inside and out, were suddenly extinguished. There was a brief sensation of unreality, as if time itself had been stunned. The air snapped and crawled with wild energy. For long seconds, no one spoke. An uncanny peace blanketed the chaos. The engines droned steadily, pushing them through the storm. The darkness was utter.
Then the lights flickered on again, and the Ketty Jay began to rattle once more.
‘What was that?’ Crake whispered.
‘Lightning,’ said Jez.
‘You said we’d explode!’ Crake accused the captain.
Frey only grinned. ‘Time to get out of here,’ he said. He hauled back on the control stick and the Ketty Jay began to climb.