The Book of All Skies, page 20
“Because we fly. Who doesn’t love flying?”
“Sina?” Del suggested.
“Sina loves the idea as much as anyone. She just doesn’t enjoy it if she actually has to do it.”
Del stopped at the base of the tower, and the mob allowed them to disembark unmolested. Asha, Lena and Imogen were already waiting for them inside.
“How are you feeling?” Imogen asked Del in Peladan.
“I’m fine,” Del replied, the same way; however fluent they’d become in the local language, it was comforting to revert to their native tongue. “Ask me again at the nub.”
Imogen laughed. “Yeah, this first part’s nothing. Just the longest balloon trip in history.”
“Unless they had balloons on Old Jierra.”
“Why would they have bothered with balloons, if they could fly through the void?”
Del had no answer to that. “Stay safe,” she said.
“You too.”
Katka’s airship was moored at the topmost berth, so she and Del took the stairs first and the others followed behind. “When I left my home town, we had a party,” she told Katka. “But that seems like a different world now. Something I dreamed.”
Katka said, “I hope it wasn’t a dream, or we might have some trouble navigating back to it.”
They reached the berth and climbed out along the boarding ladder. Del panicked for a moment, confused by the sense that her center of gravity was not where it should have been, then realized she’d never done this wearing her pack before. It wasn’t even holding much: just a single book, and enough food and water to last until their first stop. She steadied herself and completed the crossing, jumping down into the basket then moving aside for Katka.
“Back home, some of the ships have names,” she said. “Like a town, or a person.”
“Of course they do,” Katka replied, in her no-I-am-not-that-gullible tone.
Del didn’t press her claim, but as she surveyed the basket and glanced up at the lifting capsule, she searched for some reassuring label. “Can we call it the Apasa?”
Katka replied without turning away from the instrument panel. “You can call it anything you like.” She disengaged the anchor and wound in the mooring rope. “Do you want to fly the Apasa away from the tower?”
Del had practiced all the necessary maneuvers, but in her mind they had always been held in reserve for emergencies. “All right,” she said. “But please stop me if I’m doing something foolish.”
“Always.”
Del reached up and switched the propeller gears into reverse, then started the combustion engine. The Apasa moved backward slowly, rudder first, weaving side to side a little as it went; though the propellers could be spun either way, the craft as a whole wasn’t really designed for bidirectional motion. Below, the crowd began cheering them on, their voices audible even over the clatter. Del glanced back at the tower, where the other two craft were waiting on her to give them clear air.
She switched into first gear and steered the Apasa along a broad arc, veering away from the tower to point along the road. As she accelerated, she felt a sense of elation: nothing was certain, but she was finally heading in the right direction.
“Do you want to take over?” she asked Katka.
“You might as well keep going, if you like. The weather’s fine, and there are no obstacles ahead.”
“What about the Hoop?”
Katka laughed. “We’re still a long way from the Hoop.”
Del leaned over the edge of the basket and looked down at the road. Carts were speeding by, easily outpacing her. She’d pictured this stage of the journey as following the same progression as her first ride in Halem’s cart, magically retracing the paths she and Imogen had toiled along on foot. But it really didn’t matter that the airships were slower; the magic now was being freed from the ground, and seeing all the old routes anew.
She glanced behind, and spotted the second airship following along; she could just make out Imogen and Lena.
“Should we race the Dreyas?” she joked.
“I’d rather conserve fuel,” Katka replied. “If we end up stranded, or blown off course, Sejan won’t be too thrilled if he has to come looking for us.”
“No.”
Del followed the road, tracking the glow of the headlights as the carts came and went beneath her. The wind wasn’t strong, but it was unpredictable; maintaining the course required patience and a different kind of concentration than she was used to. Any drift in their position and heading manifested slowly, but any small correction she applied also needed time to take effect, and be properly assessed. In a cart, you had to have your wits about you, but everything happened in an instant; you were never left wondering if you’d overcompensated when you found yourself veering toward the wrong side of the road, or waiting to learn if you’d steered sufficiently into a bend.
“Did your parents ever try to talk you out of this?” Del asked Katka.
“They don’t live in Dallya. I haven’t seen them for a while, so I don’t think they even know about this trip.”
“But how did they feel at the beginning? When you and your cousins started building your own airships?”
Katka said, “We talked about the dangers, and I showed them that the three of us had studied as much as we could to be prepared. I think they were satisfied in the end.”
“That you’d be safe?”
“That we weren’t being reckless. Hydrogen is a dangerous gas, if you’re not careful with it. But if you understand the risks, they can be managed.”
“Would you have done it if you had children of your own?”
Katka pondered the question. “Probably not. Would you have joined Montano’s expedition, if you had children?”
“I don’t know,” Del replied. “I didn’t really grasp how dangerous it might be, but no one could tell me how long I’d be away.”
When they finally reached Stanas, Del was exhausted. Katka took over, lowering the Apasa and nudging it over the campground until they were able to drop a rope ladder for Sejan to attach to his cart. As they climbed down the ladder, Del asked Katka, “If all three airships stayed moored to the cart and emptied their ballonets ... ?”
“No.”
“You’re sure?”
Katka said, “I’m fairly sure they couldn’t lift the cart, but I’m absolutely certain that we’re not going to try.”
Sejan greeted them, and they were soon joined by a group of curious spectators, intrigued by the sight of one tethered balloon and another two approaching.
“Are the races shifting from Medoun?” a woman asked.
“No.” Katka began describing the expedition, but when she reached the part about the void between the nubs, the woman began raising objections and Katka lost patience, leaving it to Sejan to take up the argument.
The second airship, the Dreyas, dropped its ladder, and Del and Katka secured it. Imogen descended first, and greeted Del curtly before rushing to the bathroom.
Lena joined them, looking as weary as Del felt. “This is tougher than the races,” she admitted. “I keep waiting to hit the blue light.”
Other people from the campground and the town kept arriving, some to stare, some to ask questions, some bringing food. By the time the Medoun arrived and Asha was on the ground, there was enough to feed all the travelers.
When they’d eaten and were preparing to sleep, a fresh group of spectators arrived, with their own gifts and questions. “What’s happening here?” a man at the front of the pack asked eagerly. “We’ve heard all kinds of rumors, but they can’t be true.”
Imogen said, “We’re going to visit the Tolleans, flying in the opposite direction to the way you’d expect, sometimes through air with no land beneath it. If you don’t understand that, go away and think about it.”
Then she took the bag of fruit from the man’s outstretched hand, walked into her tent, and closed the flap.
Chapter 34
With no clouds in sight and the adjoining skies indistinguishable in brightness, Del struggled to make out the arch of the Hoop. Katka was more confident that she could discern its position by watching for the stars that were occluded and revealed as they approached, but she still took the Apasa as low as she could without risking them running into a hillside.
They’d traveled away from the ring road in order to gain the maximum clearance, which made perfect sense but left them with no easy cues to follow. Del looked up at the stars behind them, but with the balloon blocking so much of the view, it was a while before she could convince herself that they had actually passed through the aperture.
Katka turned the Apasa right, back toward the ring road. At least the point where the edge met the ground was unmissable, and even if they couldn’t stay close to it the whole time, so long as they kept it on their right they’d know they were making complete circuits.
“If this ever becomes routine, there’ll need to be more guidance for the airships,” Del suggested.
“Beacons lighting the way?”
“Yes. And safety lights hanging below the Hoop as well.”
Katka laughed. “Hanging from what?”
“Some kind of gantry,” Del extemporized.
“That sounds like more work than your bridge.”
They reached the ring road and made a wide turn around the edge, staying well clear of the Hoop. Del gazed across at the divided ground, one version of the road being swept away while a new one was revealed.
“Do you ever wonder if we might all be closer than we think?” Katka asked. “All the lands are really sharing the same space, but the Hoops are a kind of trick to hide us from each other?”
“So I’m already home, but I just can’t see it?” Del contemplated the idea. “I wish that were true, but I don’t know what it would mean in practice. Could you give me a magic potion I could drink that would make me visible in my homeland again, without passing through any Hoops?”
“Why not?”
“How would the potion know which land to take me to? Or show me to?”
“Hmm.” Katka thought for a while. “Maybe you carry it with you, and it remembers where it came from.”
“So does a potion from Thena need to be carried to Dallya and then used there ... or can you use a potion from Dallya that you carried to Thena to bring a potion from Thena to Dallya?”
Katka said, “If you’re holding a bottle of one potion while you drink from another bottle, everything you’re holding comes with you.”
“What if I drink two potions at once?” Del wondered. “From different lands?”
“Now you’re just being absurd.”
A bank of clouds had drifted into view behind the aperture, rendering the edge starkly visible. It was apparent now that it was well above them, so Katka turned the Apasa and brought it through. As they headed north again, Del saw a group of people below, gathered around a stationary cart, gazing up at the balloon. She leaned over the side of the basket and waved at them; there wasn’t much light away from the instrument panel, but maybe they’d see her heat blotch as a chilly silhouette against the engine.
“Soon everyone will start making airships,” Del suggested.
Katka laughed. “Thanks to our swift and efficient passage through the Hoops?”
“You’re the one who told me that everyone loves flight. Where I come from, you have to be very lucky to do things just for the joy of it.” She’d wanted to say “lucky, or wealthy”, but she didn’t know how.
“It does take work, as well as joy.”
“That’s true. But here, you’re unlikely to starve while you’re working on it.”
“Do you really let people starve?”
“We try not to.” Del was embarrassed. “If someone’s in need, someone else will usually help them. But even here, there are no promises, are there?”
“No,” Katka admitted. “But we make sure the springs aren’t overfished, and the forests aren’t over-harvested. If people don’t grow enough crops, there’s usually something else we can gather to make up for the shortage – and enough people who set aside more time for farming.”
They were close to the ring road when Del saw the glint of another lifting capsule in the starlight, far behind them. “I think Lena’s catching up,” she said.
“Good.”
“Are you getting tired?” Del asked. “If you want, I could steer for a while. I think I’ve got the hang of most of the circuit, so long as you take us through the aperture.”
“No, I’m fine,” Katka insisted. “We’ll have a rest in Jierra, then we can take turns following the highway.”
“All right.” Del looked down at the divided road again. If every inhabitant of every land was here, hidden beneath her, she still wasn’t quite home: the eastern Hoop was half a world away from Apasa. But once they’d crossed Jierra, it would all be a matter of the winding of her thread, and whatever forces rendered the different lands visible or invisible.
Chapter 35
When the engine above her began emitting the sound of grinding metal, Del’s first thought was that she’d inadvertently bumped the gearstick and knocked it out of place. She disengaged the clutch and prodded the stick, but it was already firmly in position. The problem was elsewhere.
Katka was curled up on the floor of the basket, but the screeching was enough to rouse her. “Shut it off!” she yelled, rising to her feet.
Del complied. As the engine faded to silence, it sounded like some pitiful metallic creature screaming in pain as it was thrown off a cliff.
“Do you know what’s broken?” she asked.
“Something in the drive train,” Katka replied glumly.
Sejan, with all the spare parts, was far ahead of them, probably camped at the next observatory. But if they could get a message to Lena or Asha, they’d pass it on to him and he’d drive back.
Del glanced down at the highway below. She’d seen tankers and other carts passing by now and then, but no one else was going to be carrying components for an airship’s engine. They would just have to be patient.
“Why is the smell of the algae so much worse when we’re still?” Katka complained.
“So what’s the plan?” Del asked. “Should we take the Apasa down while we wait?”
“Not until we’ve made contact with the others. It will be easier to signal to them if we’re at the same level.”
“All right.” Del looked back, hoping they’d be able to spot the Dreyas as it approached. The sunset was far ahead of them, but the western sky was still noticeably brighter. Would that make an airship coming from the east more visible, as it reflected the light? She wasn’t sure. But in any case, Lena wouldn’t stray far from the highway.
A breeze was blowing from the north, though, and there was nothing to stop the Apasa from straying.
Katka caught the worried expression on her face. “Lena’s not far behind. We’ll still be well within sight when she passes us.”
They drifted away from the road, over a field of tall, broad-leafed plants of a kind Del had no memory of seeing on the drive east. “Do you know what they are?” she asked Katka.
“No. But I’m no expert on Jierran flora.”
“If every plant was designed especially for this place, you’d think it would have some use.”
Katka said, “It probably has a role here as part of the whole system, but I’m not aware of people coming in and harvesting it.”
The wind died down, leaving them hovering above the field. Katka fidgeted with the signaling light, then flashed it once, to be sure that it was working, but she held off sending a message into the gloom with no recipient visible. “I don’t want to run down the batteries for nothing.”
Del saw a speck of pale gray, high above the road to the east. She waited to be sure it wasn’t a trick of her eyes, or the atmosphere, before nudging Katka and pointing it out.
“That must be them,” Katka agreed. She started flashing the light, pausing between repetitions to wait for a response.
After the seventh transmission, Del saw the gray speck light up. She missed the first few letters, but then translated the code in her head: “ ... received. Will ask Sejan to come back for you.”
Katka signaled a brief reply. Lena responded: “Received. Stay safe.”
Del watched the Dreyas grow nearer, until she could make out the occupants: Imogen’s heat blotch was unmistakeable, standing at the side of the basket. No sooner had they passed than Del looked east and saw the Medoun following close behind. Katka signaled Asha, explaining the situation; Asha replied, “Understood. Good luck. See you soon.”
As the Medoun receded in the west, Del felt a great sense of relief. There’d been talk early on of the expedition taking just one airship and two extra carts instead, but the system they’d chosen now looked like it would work at least as well.
“Now we wait,” Katka said. The wind was rising, so she began lowering the Apasa, hoping to avoid being blown much farther from the road. The ground below them wasn’t suited to a landing, though, covered with woody shrubs and patches of brambles. Further south, the prospects only grew worse: they were approaching one of the vomit-green lakes.
Del said, “What if I moor us to something?” They needed to stay high enough to be visible to Sejan, but if they remained floating freely they could be anywhere by the time he arrived. “I don’t know how deeply rooted those bushes are, but it’s worth trying, isn’t it?” She really didn’t want to end up having to disembark by wading through algal sludge.
Katka agreed, and they unfurled the rope ladder until it trailed over the ground. The wind kept toying with the Apasa, so Del descended slowly, unnerved by the swaying of the ladder but fairly sure that a fall into brambles would be nothing compared to her last drop.
When her feet finally hit the ground, she had to run after the airship to keep hold of the rope, but then it stopped long enough for her to twist one rung around a nearby shrub. She’d stuffed her pockets with pieces of string, and she set about tying new restraints, until she’d built an ungainly web of more than a dozen threads that shared the job of anchor between a multitude of different plants.
