Chasing Sunlight

Jonathan rushed forward to the observation room as the ship shook from a collision, nearly bowling over Eleanor as she abruptly popped out of her cabin. She fell in after him without comment, a presence of mind that had impressed him upon their first meeting, the pair of them hurrying to investigate the issue. The situation was obvious enough upon looking out the forward windows: a large tower of amalgamated cubes and faceted glass had congealed in front of them.

The Endeavor had smashed directly into the side of one of the glass protrusions – something Jonathan didn’t blame the pilot for, as it had likely appeared out of nowhere – and even now debris hung in the air, arrested midflight. The jagged fragments clawed and tore at the Endeavor’s hull and even envelope, a terrible and furious screeching that cut at the ear and the mind. The engines pulsed as the Endeavor pulled away, but shards that had buried themselves in the ship came with them, along with a number of the metallic creatures.

“Can we fight them?” Eleanor asked, taking in the situation at a glance. Her hand flickered and her long dagger appeared, as if she could reach them from the window.

“We will have to. But mostly, we must remove that glass from the hull.” Jonathan wasn’t sure how much the punctures would affect the protection granted them by the ship, but since the entire structure had been suffused with the light, he hoped it would be no more of an issue than the doors and hatches. Going outside ran the risk of being frozen, though there was no telling how long it would take.

He whirled back to his cabin to grab one of the pistols there, and then caught up with Eleanor by the stairwell. By mutual, unspoken agreement, Eleanor went off on the mid-deck, where the damage was lighter, and Jonathan descended to the cargo deck, where he’d seen a massive beam of faceted glass driven through the hull. Hurrying forward between stacked crates, he found a pair of airmen trying to clean away a mess of cracked wood and spilled parts to get to the glass beam.

Jonathan tucked his cane under one arm, then vaulted over the scattered brass bolts and steel washers, balancing on one of the crates rather than waiting for it to be cleared away. With a swipe he broke off the jagged knife edge of a tip where it had punched through the hull, and pried away some of the metal that had deformed and wrapped around the intruding beam. Half-in and half-out of the temporal stasis, it shifted and slid unpredictably and tore the puncture open further as the Endeavor pulled away. Ignoring the crew behind him, he reached over to brace himself on one of the structural beams and then grabbed the now-blunt end of the spar.

Metal groaned and glass shards chipped off as he heaved, forcing the beam back through the hole it had made. Splinters drove under his fingernails but such an inconvenience was not enough to thwart him, his eyes merely narrowing as he plied his strength against the piece of debris. Glass screamed against carisium, protesting against Jonathan’s might — but he was not to be denied, and with one last despairing shriek it fell away, bobbling and drifting as the Endeavor swept past it.

Jonathan clambered back down from the crates, avoiding the metal fittings and components that had been scattered over the ground, and removed his handkerchief from his pocket to pluck the glass splinters from his fingers. The airmen stared at him, and Jonathan met their gazes before looking around.

“Are there any other punctures?” Jonathan asked, though he was certain he would have spotted anything obvious. The glass splinters made tiny, crystalline noises as he dropped them on the floor, and one of the crewmen stirred himself from his reverie.

“I think there’s a smaller one on the other side,” he said, pointing to a wall of crates still stacked and secured. Jonathan grunted and walked over, using his cane as a hook to climb to the second level of storage. A faint metallic creaking and groaning could be heard as he approached, driving Jonathan to sever the ropes with impatient haste. The freed crates were easily pushed aside, exposing the source of the noise.

It wasn’t another piece of glass. Chillingly, it was a metallic hand, punched through the hull, questing fingers splayed and holding it in place. Even as he watched the digits moved, ever so slowly, as the protection afforded by the Endeavor’s treatment began to take effect. Jonathan snorted and promptly crushed the hand in his own, the cunningly wrought metal disconcertingly warm beneath his fingers but bending and deforming just the same. Some vital substance the color of oil and old blood spurted from the offending limb, but Jonathan just pushed the mangled mass of metal back out through the hull and cleaned off his hands once again, tucking his handkerchief back into his pocket.

With no other debris that could be cleared from the inside, Jonathan hurried up to the next deck, following the sound of shouting and creaking metal to the bridge. He stepped through to find a mess, the forward windows shattered and a long shard of glass, thick as a man, driven through the front to embed itself in the ceiling. Several of the metal figures were clinging to the beam, though none were yet inside the ship and so able to move. The remaining Lux Guard was busy trying to pry the enormous chunk of debris out of the ship’s hull, and even as Jonathan watched the ship passed from one fragment to another, the position of the metal beings shifting.

“Cut the engines,” Jonathan said, and Montgomery looked at him, ready to argue, then realized what he was thinking and passed the order. While the beings were not quite as stuck in time as it had seemed, they couldn’t move if the Endeavor didn’t travel through space. The ship slowed to a halt, leaving only those pieces in and against the hull as dangers. Which was danger enough, as the glass shards continued to tear rents in the Endeavor’s hull and Jonathan knew he was not lucky enough to have already spotted all of the metallic invaders.

Jonathan stepped forward and pushed the Lux Guard aside, reaching up with both hands and wresting the glass spar from the ceiling, forcing it against its own stasis and driving it back outside the ship. Step by heavy step he pushed it back through the forward windows, the length of glass quivering and bucking as if in terror, and with a final shove it returned to the still time from whence it had come. There were other, smaller chunks of glass scattered over the bridge, but those seemed harmless enough, and Jonathan turned to Montgomery.

“Any place in particular I’m needed?” It wasn’t likely ordinary crew would have much luck removing any large fragments, and Jonathan had no desire to deal with the greater troubles of allowing such debris to persist on board the Endeavor.

“If you got the lower decks, then no. Haven’t had time for a detailed survey,” Montgomery said, frowning at the debris hanging around the Endeavor. “Miss McAvey and Mister Antomine went to the forward guns, perhaps they know more.”

Jonathan grunted and left the bridge, the tapping of his cane echoing ominously as he advanced along the halls. He found Eleanor nearly immediately, standing by the opening to the forward chase gun and wiping a strange oily residue off her dagger. The gunnery alcove itself was mangled, the gun dismounted but intact on the deck, and more broken glass dusted the ground. The story it told was obvious, and Jonathan raised his eyebrows at her.

“Got it while it was still slow,” she said with satisfaction. “Tossed it back outside. Creepy thing.” She made the dagger disappear and frowned off to where the sound of Stutt pounding on the inside door of his cabin still sounded. “I wish he’d be quiet.”

“He won’t be, not while we’re in the Caldera,” Jonathan said absently. “Where is Antomine?”

“Went back up, to check the above-decks,” Eleanor said, her tone making it clear how intelligent she thought that choice was, though Jonathan understood why Antomine had done it. Of them all, Antomine was the one most likely to be able to understand and perhaps even resist the unsettling stillness of the Caldera.

“I’ll check on him, do keep an eye out,” he said, and swept past Stutt’s room on his way back to the stairwell. He found the top hatch open, with Antomine sitting on the uppermost stair. The man’s broad-brimmed hat seemed slightly wilted, and a damaged pistol rested next to him, the glasswork cracked, but he nodded calmly to Jonathan.

“I wouldn’t go outside,” Antomine said, taking off his hat and fanning himself with it, as no air flowed through the open hatch. “You can’t get far without being affected.”

“Good to know,” Jonathan said, but climbed far enough to peer outside regardless. From his vantage at the hatch he could see several beams of glowing blue zint hanging in the frozen time just outside the Endeavor. They had severed or destroyed several lengths of glass impaling the envelope, but were frozen in place after passing beyond the Endeavor’s protective presence.

“I suppose we’ll have to be more careful,” Antomine said, and Jonathan’s lip curled at the obvious and useless sentiment.

“Indeed,” he said instead, and descended the few steps back to the passenger deck, taking a look out the observation windows and the rear windows in the mess. The eerie and silent city stretched out behind them, save for the tower they had just clipped; ahead of them was a sharp wall, split and cracked into a dozen sections by lava bursting from below. They had just had a lesson in how the actual reality could differ, as they crossed time by crossing space, but away from the city he could only hope there was less to deal with.

The Endeavor was slowly sinking, as the glass impaling the envelope allowed lifting gas to vent. While Jonathan doubted they were in any danger of crashing into the frozen cataclysm, it was clear they wouldn’t have the luxury of flying high over the landscape. Even as Jonathan watched some of the debris slide past the window, the ship shuddered into motion and carefully pivoted to circle around and away from the impact site. Stutt still wailed and babbled inside his locked room, so Jonathan knew they weren’t out of danger yet. He considered whether he could broach the idea of leaving Stutt behind, but couldn’t imagine that Antomine would stand for it. Not unless they became truly trapped.

He made his way to the bridge, finding Montgomery hunched over the engineer’s console, shoulder to shoulder with the ship’s mechanic, while the pilot was working controls with a frantic haste. They obviously couldn’t send any men outside to inspect and patch holes, but that wasn’t too different from a running battle. Something that Montgomery had experience with, to judge by his orders.

“How far are we from the border?” Montgomery asked, the moment he noticed Jonathan’s presence. “Yes, I know, we follow the bells, but still.”

“I’d say we are perhaps three-quarters of the way through,” Jonathan said after a moment of thought. “I don’t believe there are any other large cities — I didn’t see any the last time.”

“Huh. We should have enough lifting gas so long as we don’t run into anything that requires too much maneuvering,” Montgomery said, reaching into his uniform pocket for his pipe. “Tell me we’ve got some place to resupply on the other side.”

“There is zint vein only a few hour’s travel, east of the Caldera,” Jonathan confirmed, stepping aside as a crewman began sweeping up the glass from the shattered viewports. “There should be the opportunity for hunting, as well, so we can refresh our food supplies. It’s no Verdant Expanse but it’ll do.”

Montgomery began issuing orders again, and the Endeavor’s engines drove her forward while still sinking, coming uncomfortably close to some of the taller glass buildings and cube-wrought towers. Another bell sounded, and with a grumble the pilot shifted the Endeavor’s course. In a rare bit of fortune the new angle still took them directly across the city walls, and the pilot maneuvered carefully around buildings that seemed to congeal from the very air — or appear like the extra degrees of a circle.

The pilot’s skill showed as he still managed to avoid them, now that they were moving more cautiously, even despite the slowly leaking envelope. They wouldn’t lose all their lifting gas; the envelope superstructure was compartmentalized for that very reason. Yet the lack of vertical mobility would be a hazard until repairs could be made and the supplies of lifting gas refreshed.

He winced at the sound of something rasping along the Endeavor’s keel, scraping and squealing and vibrating through the deck. Yet that was all that the city and its strange inhabitants could manage, the ship barely clearing the wall and steering around a spray of lava. The red-hot stone passed by just to port, radiating no warmth, as if it were no more than colored wax.

Then they were out over a broken landscape more volcanic fury than earth. The sound of Stutt’s hoarse screams and thumps, audible even from the bridge, faded away. Everyone relaxed at the sudden silence, hunched shoulders lowering slightly, at least until Montgomery jerked his head at the bos’n.

“Have Doc make sure he’s still alive.” He puffed on his pipe, frowning out the open front of the bridge. “And make sure the cargo deck is shipshape. We’ve got a lot of repairs to get on the moment we’re out.”

Jonathan stood aside to let the men do their jobs, resting both hands on his cane as he waited by the maps. Twice more bells rang, sending the ship in an indirect arc toward the furthest end of the Crimson Caldera. Spotted along their path were occasional pieces of civilization, and once in the distance there was even another airship of a noisome design that made all the airmen who saw it turn white and look away. It was just as trapped as everything else within the Caldera, though its precise origin – something native to the Caldera or an unfortunate explorer – was not something they would ever know. No one was tempted to risk another incident like the one with Stutt.

The end of the Caldera arrived all at once, as a final belltower marked a terminator between volcanic light and familiar darkness. The light from the churn of lava did nothing to illuminate the landscape beyond, and the zint beams froze in the air a few feet beyond the Endeavor’s hull. Only spotted specks of luminescence, a faintly glimmering river, and a lone sheltershroom demonstrated there was anything beyond the black wall.

Montgomery ordered them forward, and the moment they crossed the dividing line there was a patter of glass and metal splinters that had been trapped in the Endeavor’s wake falling onto the upper decks or crashing to the ground beneath. At the same time, the light of the Caldera vanished, and the mirrored light tubes facing backward showed only a lone belltower in the spotlights, planted in the middle of a broad, sweeping plain. Fresh air suddenly gusted through the open bridge, smelling of river and rock and growing things, nothing like the cataclysm they had just left.

“Anything of human stock has no trouble going to the west.” Jonathan answered the unspoken question. “You’ll find no barriers like the Caldera on the reverse path. Those who are native find it far more of an issue.”

“Good to know,” Montgomery said, peering into one of the mirrored pipes that showed the view behind. “Especially with Stutt on board.”

“Indeed,” Jonathan said, holding his tongue on his opinion of that particular circumstance and turned to more relevant matters. “We should be here, Captain,” he said, pointing to a particular section of his more esoteric maps. That river will be our guide for some way; the zint deposit we need is perhaps a dozen miles along its length.”

“You heard him, Jameson,” Montgomery said, and the navigator started taking sightings. The tops of burly trees and sprouting mushrooms reached nearly as high as the cargo deck, with an occasional whisper as the foliage of what passed for trees brushed against the hull. When they broke through to the river itself, the sound of running water was blessedly normal, for all that it came through empty panes where there should have been glass. The raucous cries of unknown beasts echoed up from below, and the dark water of the river parted for a moment to reveal an immense fin before it disappeared again.

The only disturbance of note was when a small batlike creature flew into the bridge, emitting a ululating cry that was nearly a perfect match for a flute, and frantically flapped about the confined space before it fled out the same opening from whence it had come. That had given several of the bridge crew a good scare but was ultimately harmless — a rarity for anything out in the dark.

Raw zint glimmered faintly where the river had cut a small canyon through the hills, luminiferous terrestrite resisting the attempts of anything to grow over it or siphon its light and energy for other purposes. Actually quarrying it would be a laborious process, but they only needed enough to refresh the Endeavor. Though with repairs and hunting for supplies, they would likely be tethered for days.

Spotlights showed a tangle of brush in dull purple and puce, roots spilling over the canyon edge to drink from the waters below. Montgomery ordered a few rounds of artillery fire into the landing area, just to ensure it was clear, before he sent down airmen to fasten tethers. The sound of sledgehammers fastening pitons into the rocky slope came faintly from below, and at length Montgomery ordered the engines off. The ship swayed and then steadied as the lines took up the slack, and the captain exhaled a long stream of smoke.

“Right, we’re settled. Time to see what the damage is.”

Jonathan left Montgomery to it; the crew would need rest as well as the time to survey, repair, and clean up from their encounter in the Caldera. He had preparations of his own to make, to keep the wilds nearby manageable and allow the Endeavor to take the time it needed. There were plenty of things in the east that were more than capable of destroying a tethered airship.

“Oh, I am looking forward to being able to stretch my legs,” Eleanor said as he arrived on the passenger deck. She was already dressed in her coat, with both maids behind her carrying rifles. “I think I’m about ready to snap, being stuck in here.”

“I imagine that the descent tether is rigged,” Jonathan replied, stepping aside to let her pass. “Just don’t stray too far before I’ve set up the defenses.” He didn’t have to warn her to be careful. Even in the west the wilderness was dangerous, and it didn’t take much to realize the east was doubly so.

The only useful apparatus Jonathan had left for that purpose was the series of totem stakes, which seemed to vibrate uneasily in his hands as he retrieved them from his desk. He tucked them into his bag and picked up his own rifle before following Eleanor’s example and heading downward. The men already had lanterns set up on stands around the hilltop below the Endeavor, where much of the vegetation had already been burned away by the ship’s artillery, illuminating the odd flora which writhed slowly away from the light.

Jonathan eyed the Endeavor’s position and paced off the proper distances, planting each stake in turn. The totems seemed to twist the surrounding air, but had no other obvious effect. They weren’t directed at humans, so nobody on the ship would be particularly affected, but Jonathan had been on the wrong end of one before and knew how effective they were. Placed in the proper formation they would provide reasonable proof against mindless and even moderately clever beasts.

Over the next few hours the airmen cleared out the area beneath the Endeavor to set up a temporary outpost. Jonathan lent his own muscle to the task of chopping vines and clearing brush, that which did not leave of its own accord, at least. In the process they uncovered some potential edibles; tubers, berries, and seed-pods. The ship’s cook would have to do the tests to ensure they were fit for human consumption, but anything would be welcome.

The ship’s engineer fussed over the gleaming distillation apparatus as it was lowered from the cargo deck, piece by piece. It would take in chunks of raw terrestrite and, through some alchemy only properly understood by very few, would distill it into its proper zint form. Lifting gas was a welcome byproduct, if hazardous to work with directly. Actually mining the raw material would be a matter of time and muscle and the zint-powered pick-hammers they’d brought for the task.

While he busied himself with the tasks of muscle and brute force, Eleanor and her accompanying maids had been entirely absent. That lack was explained shortly after mining began by the trio dragging several hundred pounds of six-limbed beast back with them on an improvised sled. It bore no resemblance to any creature of the west, with a skin covered in thick, coiled fur like wire and an eyeless, bifurcated head with flat-topped teeth in each of its two mouths. She looked extremely pleased with herself, though of course just one animal barely put a dent in their supply requirements.

“The stuff on board was getting pretty gamey,” Eleanor said, watching the ship’s cook poke at the corpse with a knife and decide where to start dismantling it. “It’ll be nice to have fresh meat again.”

“If it’s edible,” Antomine said, joining the conversation. “How likely is that, Mister Heights?”

“Most of what was not obviously objectionable passed the tests,” Jonathan replied. Almost all his prior journeys had been on ships that needed to stop and forage far more often than the Endeavor, so he was at least passingly familiar with the results.

“Good,” Eleanor said. “Gotta wait for them to fix the freezers though. I heard they stopped working when we hit that thing back in the Caldera.” She fluttered her hand vaguely in the direction from whence they had come. “It’s like we’re having no luck this trip.”

“It’s not a matter of luck,” Jonathan said, leaning on his cane and regarding Eleanor and Antomine. “Mister Antomine represents a power antithetical to much of what composes the east; it is only natural that would find opposition. Then there are certain choices. It was Airman Stutt that was responsible for our issues in the Caldera, and without him we would have had a simple passage.”

“We were hardly going to leave one of our countrymen stranded when it was so easy to rescue him,” Antomine said with a frown.

“Was it easy?” Jonathan shook his head. “Out here, compassion carries far more risks than in Beacon. Any troubles you see are someone else’s, and it behooves you to be very cautious about involving yourself.” He frowned at Antomine, tapping his fingers against the handle of his cane. “I mislike lecturing, especially as you are more than intelligent enough to know this without me saying it.”

“Oh, I surely know, but the only way to change that is to bring that behavior out here. Civilization doesn’t happen on its own.” Antomine reached up to touch his inquisitor’s seal by reflex, then looked to where airmen were hammering in stays for lines to go over the canyon edge. “I don’t have the hubris to think that one ship alone will transform the world, but large things come from small ones.”

“I vote for not getting involved,” Eleanor said, shifting from one foot to another with nervous energy. “How are we doing anyway? Any more weird frozen volcanoes to go through?”

“Not that I know of,” Jonathan said. “Our next goal is Ukaresh, where we should get the final components needed to reach our destination. Then it will be merely the vagaries of the east until we reach the Arch of Khokorron. Nothing to dismiss, but the Endeavor should be protected against much of it.”

“Now, Ukaresh I’ve heard of,” Eleanor said. “Never knew you had to go through that Caldera to get at it though.”

“There are other paths to the east,” Jonathan said. “Some are no longer available, and of the others, some were too dangerous or too ill-known. The path we took was merely the best available.”

“If that’s the least dangerous path…” Eleanor trailed off and shrugged. “At least we’ve got something to show for it.”

“We haven’t reached our ultimate destination just yet. You may find something more interesting than gold in the places we are going.”

“Like sunlight?” Eleanor’s nose wrinkled. “I’ll pass on that. I still don’t see why you two are so interested.”

Jonathan and Antomine exchanged glances, but neither of them had an answer for her. Conveying the sheer purity and indominable reality of sunlight was impossible for mere words, and Antomine surely had secret orders — assuming he even knew the Illuminated King’s true motivation. Then there were Eleanor’s own secrets, based in the darkness and avoiding the light. To compare the two that way was trite, but knowledge was jealous and secrets were doubly so. It was unlikely a mind bent on avoiding light would be able to comprehend its deeper mysteries.

“Perhaps it is not for you, but there are still mysteries worth considering out here.” Jonathan said, and Antomine shook his head, the rim of his broad-brimmed hat bobbing.

“Best not to take any lessons from this place,” he disagreed. “The more inhuman knowledge is, the less human those who understand it become.”

“Yeah, well, I’m here to get rich, not to become some weird cultist,” Eleanor said, shrugging it off. “I’m more worried about keeping my skin intact, considering what we’ve seen. I mean, if there’s stuff that can kill a Lux Guard in one hit, I sure don’t want to tangle with anything I don’t need to.”

“He isn’t dead,” Antomine said with some exasperation. “Though speaking of which, I need to see about gathering the raw terrestrite.” He nodded to Eleanor and headed off to where the hand drills were being unpacked.

“Who does he think he’s fooling?” Eleanor muttered.

“Better the men have some comforting lie to cling to than know the truth,” Jonathan said in an undertone. “Ignorance keeps most ships flying, as no man in his right mind would face the dark if he truly knew what was out here.”

“You know,” Eleanor pointed out. Jonathan chuckled.

For the next few days, all aboard the Endeavor found something to occupy themselves. At all hours there were airmen patching holes in the hull and envelope, replacing glass, or taking turns rappelling down to ply hand-drills at the zint deposit. Pumps pulled water from the river for distillation and purification. Antomine closeted himself in his cabin to perform some forbidden alchemy on the raw terrestrite, though Jonathan rather doubted the Lux Guard could be fixed. If the Illuminated King wasn’t creating entire armies of zint-fueled soldiers, then it was unlikely field repairs were an option.

Eleanor took herself off on the hunting expeditions, while Jonathan prowled the campsite, lending a hand where needed and going over his notes otherwise. Sunlight was closer than ever and stirred him to restlessness, but he was well aware of the limits of both machines and men. There were no ports in the east with zint, and few with any comestibles fit for the human palate — barring Terminus, and Jonathan still had no idea what to think of that place. Not to mention limping into dock with such damage proclaimed weakness to all the predators that would surely be watching.

The weather of the east fortunately left them alone to their work, though once a storm passed far to the south. Luminous rain soaked a landscape that writhed beneath its touch, and velvet lightning, violet and violent, struck the ground. Some few bolts lingered, slowly fading and cooling into towering trees that sprouted twisted fruits before the storm even passed. What that would have done to unprotected flesh didn’t bear thinking about.

The repairs necessitated a full assay of their supplies, and after all the patching and fixing was done, the state of the hold was less than inspiring. They weren’t out of replacement parts and stock, but were running surprisingly low, especially on such things as glass and tooled brass.

For most it was a restful interlude, but Jonathan was glad when Montgomery declared the Endeavor fit to fly again. Ukaresh was the last great landmark and the last piece of the puzzle he’d put together from the failure of the previous expedition. It was also by far the most dangerous stop of the voyage.