off is oh-three-hundred.”
“So much for sleep.”
“I can start flight prep. That’ll help a bit.”
“Sure thing, Captain.” Angus snatched his jacket from a hook on the hangar wall and started off down the runway toward the communal kitchen and improvised tavern at Woon’s hangar.
Skyler stifled a yawn as he watched him go. He pondered getting some sleep, weighed against all the preparation to do. Check the parachutes, load the weapons, prep the Melville … and, of course, brief the crew.
He decided the parachutes could be done during the flight, and shuffled across the hangar floor to a ladder. He climbed up to a catwalk that ran the entire circumference of the cavernous building. A rough mission plan began to form in his mind as he headed toward the far wall.
Samantha waited for him outside her room, at the midpoint of the catwalk. “Where’s Angus going?”
“Nice to see you, too, Sam. He went to get the others. We’ve got work.”
She folded her arms over her chest and leaned against the metal railing, blocking his path. “You and Prumble cook up another treasure hunt?”
“Believe it or not, that walking raincoat last night had a genuine lead.”
“And he gave this lead to Prumble? And Prumble gave it to you?”
“That’s right.”
She narrowed her eyes. “It’s pointless, anyway. The climbers are stuck.”
“They’ll get fixed.”
“You hope. What if they don’t, Skyler? People are saying the Elevator just gave up the ghost. Quit working.”
He understood then the source of her anxiety. The situation had everyone contemplating the worst. Thinking the one thought no one wanted to say aloud.
So Skyler said it. “If that’s true then it’s over. End of the world.” Her nostrils flared and Skyler raised a hand to calm her. “Which is why they’ll get fixed. It will get resolved because it must.”
Her eyes danced left and right as she pulled meaning from the words.
Skyler managed a thin smile and pulled from his pocket the wad of cash Prumble had fronted him. “This one has potential,” he said, “so relax, back off, and go see if Woon will let us spool the ultracaps from his primary line.”
She kept her eyes on his. For a second he thought she might not obey, but then she snapped the money away.
Skyler pushed past her and continued along the catwalk.
She followed. “What about food? The storeroom—”
“Empty. I know.”
“I don’t jump hungry.”
Skyler ran a hand through his hair. “Anything growing on the roof yet?”
“Nothing ripe. But I heard some of Kantro’s crew saying that Woon is making ramen.” Her lips curled in a suppressed smile.
He threw his hands up in sarcastic fashion. “Oh the delightful irony.” Skyler had traded an entire crate of the freeze-dried noodle packets to Woon for some reactor time, a few months back. Spooling wasted on an ill-advised, fruitless mission.
They reached the door to Skyler’s room. He sighed and removed a few more bills from his pocket. “Get enough for everyone.”
She took it, turned, and headed for the ladder.
“Briefing in three hours,” he said after her, then closed his door.
Finally alone, he sat on the edge of his bed and removed his muddy boots. He studied the holes in them, pushing an index finger through one. If this job didn’t pay off, he doubted he’d be able to keep the crew going. Tossing the shoes unceremoniously in the corner, he fell back on his bunk and shut his eyes.
Sleep came quickly. He dreamt of falling through a massive engine room, bigger than Darwin itself. He crashed through the floor and continued to fall. Far below, he saw a jungle canopy. Evil lurked there, dark and pulsating, waiting for him in the black space beneath the treetops. Soon branches were slapping at his face …
He emerged from the dream to find Takai standing over him, slapping him gently on the cheek. “All right, all right,” Skyler said. “Knock it off.”
“Noodles,” Takai said, his
“So much for sleep.”
“I can start flight prep. That’ll help a bit.”
“Sure thing, Captain.” Angus snatched his jacket from a hook on the hangar wall and started off down the runway toward the communal kitchen and improvised tavern at Woon’s hangar.
Skyler stifled a yawn as he watched him go. He pondered getting some sleep, weighed against all the preparation to do. Check the parachutes, load the weapons, prep the Melville … and, of course, brief the crew.
He decided the parachutes could be done during the flight, and shuffled across the hangar floor to a ladder. He climbed up to a catwalk that ran the entire circumference of the cavernous building. A rough mission plan began to form in his mind as he headed toward the far wall.
Samantha waited for him outside her room, at the midpoint of the catwalk. “Where’s Angus going?”
“Nice to see you, too, Sam. He went to get the others. We’ve got work.”
She folded her arms over her chest and leaned against the metal railing, blocking his path. “You and Prumble cook up another treasure hunt?”
“Believe it or not, that walking raincoat last night had a genuine lead.”
“And he gave this lead to Prumble? And Prumble gave it to you?”
“That’s right.”
She narrowed her eyes. “It’s pointless, anyway. The climbers are stuck.”
“They’ll get fixed.”
“You hope. What if they don’t, Skyler? People are saying the Elevator just gave up the ghost. Quit working.”
He understood then the source of her anxiety. The situation had everyone contemplating the worst. Thinking the one thought no one wanted to say aloud.
So Skyler said it. “If that’s true then it’s over. End of the world.” Her nostrils flared and Skyler raised a hand to calm her. “Which is why they’ll get fixed. It will get resolved because it must.”
Her eyes danced left and right as she pulled meaning from the words.
Skyler managed a thin smile and pulled from his pocket the wad of cash Prumble had fronted him. “This one has potential,” he said, “so relax, back off, and go see if Woon will let us spool the ultracaps from his primary line.”
She kept her eyes on his. For a second he thought she might not obey, but then she snapped the money away.
Skyler pushed past her and continued along the catwalk.
She followed. “What about food? The storeroom—”
“Empty. I know.”
“I don’t jump hungry.”
Skyler ran a hand through his hair. “Anything growing on the roof yet?”
“Nothing ripe. But I heard some of Kantro’s crew saying that Woon is making ramen.” Her lips curled in a suppressed smile.
He threw his hands up in sarcastic fashion. “Oh the delightful irony.” Skyler had traded an entire crate of the freeze-dried noodle packets to Woon for some reactor time, a few months back. Spooling wasted on an ill-advised, fruitless mission.
They reached the door to Skyler’s room. He sighed and removed a few more bills from his pocket. “Get enough for everyone.”
She took it, turned, and headed for the ladder.
“Briefing in three hours,” he said after her, then closed his door.
Finally alone, he sat on the edge of his bed and removed his muddy boots. He studied the holes in them, pushing an index finger through one. If this job didn’t pay off, he doubted he’d be able to keep the crew going. Tossing the shoes unceremoniously in the corner, he fell back on his bunk and shut his eyes.
Sleep came quickly. He dreamt of falling through a massive engine room, bigger than Darwin itself. He crashed through the floor and continued to fall. Far below, he saw a jungle canopy. Evil lurked there, dark and pulsating, waiting for him in the black space beneath the treetops. Soon branches were slapping at his face …
He emerged from the dream to find Takai standing over him, slapping him gently on the cheek. “All right, all right,” Skyler said. “Knock it off.”
“Noodles,” Takai said, his
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