“Titanium,” he said. “Hard enough to punch through the hide of any drake. Your father had a small stock of it set aside, but couldn’t remember what he was going to use it for. He also had some magnesium and mercury. So you have a titanium-tipped projectile which collapses on impact to set off a composite explosive charge. Took a little experimenting but I think you’ll find the results impressive.”
He hefted an empty brandy-keg the ship’s galley no longer had a use for and made ready to toss it over the side. Lizanne bent to retrieve the carbine from the deck, finding it marginally heavier than a standard-issue model, but not enough to be unwieldy. She slotted the cartridge into the tubular magazine below the barrel, worked the lever to chamber the round and put the stock against her shoulder.
“Very well,” she said. “Have you ranged the sights?”
“Fifty yards,” Jermayah told her before heaving the keg into the sea. “Put some whitewash in to illustrate the effect.”
Lizanne stepped to the rail, tracking the keg’s progress towards the stern. The Viable Opportunity was maintaining a slow speed to keep pace with the rest of the convoy so her target took a moment or two to drift the required distance. When she judged it to be about fifty yards away she raised the carbine’s barrel, centring the fore- and rearsights on the bobbing keg. The wind was slight today so she didn’t need to account for it as she exhaled and squeezed the trigger. The sound of the bullet’s leaving the barrel did indeed resemble a shout, though the recoil was less severe than she might have expected. The stock seemed to pulse against her shoulder instead of the usual hard shove and the foresight deviated from the target by only a few degrees. Consequently, she had a fine view of the brandy-keg as it transformed into a cloud of white vapour. There wasn’t even enough left of it to litter the surrounding water with debris.
“One, maybe two to stop an adult Green,” Jermayah mused. “Three for a Red. Blue’s a different matter of course, but you should still be able to do some serious damage. It’ll also fire standard rounds if you need to shoot a Spoiled.”
Lizanne lowered the carbine and ejected the spent cartridge with a smooth motion of the lever, catching it before it could fall to the deck. It was hot, but not enough to burn and leached a thick foul-smelling cloud of spent propellant.
“Had to mix a variety of agents to get enough power behind the bullet,” Jermayah said with an apologetic wince. “Couldn’t make it smokeless.”
Lizanne grinned and blew the fumes from the bullet before tossing it over the side. “Then I’ll call it the ‘Smoker.’” She tapped the glass covering the upper portion of the breach. “And this?”
“That’s for an old friend.” He produced another cartridge from his pocket, holding it up for inspection. This projectile was more elongated than those she had used in her Whisper, but still recognisable from the viscous liquid she could see inside the glass cylinder.
“Redball,” Lizanne said, remembering the various forms of carnage she had inflicted with the product-fuelled round.
“Three times the range of the pistol version,” Jermayah said. “Could only buy enough Red to make a dozen though, so best forgo the test firing, eh?”
She nodded, reaching out to take the cartridge. “And the explosive rounds?”
“Just thirty. I had just bought enough magnesium and mercury to make a hundred but . . .” He trailed off, face darkening.
“Did you see it?” Lizanne asked. “My aunt?”
He shook his head. “It all happened so fast. It was Tekela who woke us, told us we had to get in the aerostat and leave. Your aunt didn’t believe it, or didn’t want to. She went outside to look for herself. Not an easy thing to just fly away from the place you’ve lived all your life, I suppose. It’s my belief she locked the workshop doors so the drakes couldn’t get in when she saw what was happening. Even then.” He paused and gave a sad, helpless shrug. “If your ward hadn’t gotten her hands on the mini-Growler we’d certainly have shared your aunt’s fate.”
“We’ll need more of those before long.” Lizanne hefted the carbine. “And more of these.”
“Only so much we can do on this tub. Not a lot to work with.”
“I’ll see about rectifying that. In the meantime”—she shouldered the carbine and started towards the ladder to the crew quarters—“I have a long-delayed call to make.”
Do you believe it? Clay asked as the last images of his journey through the world beneath the ice folded back into the grey hues of Nelphia’s surface.
Lizanne took a long time to reply. Absorbing such a quantity of new and incredible information left her own mindscape in an unusual state of disarray. The whirlwinds twisted and entwined with the kind of energy that only came from confusion and indecision. Neither were sensations she enjoyed.
I don’t wish to cause offence, Mr. Torcreek, she told him after managing to straighten some of the more fractious whirlwinds. But I doubt you are capable of constructing memories of such . . . remarkable variety and precision.
Got plenty of wild tales of your own, he observed and their joined minds shared a brief instant of empathic humour. Bringing down the entire Corvie Empire. Quite a feat, miss. Even for you.
A house built with rotten timbers on shaky foundations was always bound to fall. My concern is what they’ll build in its place.
Think we got more pressing concerns than that.
She took a moment to calm her mind yet further, forcing the whirlwinds into a reasonable semblance of order, before sending him a pulse of agreement. You’re certain of this woman’s motives? You believe she only wants to help?
I believe she wants to put right what her people did wrong. But I’m pretty sure there’s a good deal she hasn’t shared yet. I’m hoping I’ll get some answers at Krystaline Lake.
Returning to Arradsia at this juncture seems excessively risky. It’s likely the entire continent is now under the sway of the White.
Maybe not. It ain’t there just now, don’t forget. And there are limits to what it can do. Silverpin showed us that. Besides, I’m all out of other options, lest you got something to share.
Tell Captain Hilemore to sail for Varestia. We will join forces. It was a suggestion that would have carried more weight when spoken aloud, but in the trance she knew he could sense the reluctant insincerity in it. They were both fully aware he would sail to Arradsia and then journey on to Krystaline Lake, whatever the cost.
Guess that settles it, he observed.
So it seems. However, I feel it would be better if Captain Hilemore stayed with his command this time. Given the fate of the Corvantine main battle fleet he now commands possibly the most advanced warship in the world. An asset we’ll need in the days to come.
He’ll be hard to convince. Not the kind who likes to sit out the big show.
Frame it as an order from me if it helps.
With Feros gone I ain’t too sure how he’ll feel about taking orders, and my influence ain’t what it was. But I’ll try. When will you be able to trance again?