Into The

Dead

Continent

An Ashen Wasteland Series Book 2

By: Tim Elkins

Copyright © 2020 NJ Publishing

All rights Reserved All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication / use of the trademarks is not authorized, associated with or sponsored by the trademark owners.

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1

Thick smoke and loud music dominated the ambiance inside the Welder’s Hole, a cozy tavern in the middle of Anglia. Men and women sang and danced joyously between sips of strong stout beer and spirits, while others merely enjoyed a warm meal. Despite the merriment around her, Rachel Sternritter felt no joy as she sat in the furthest corner of the room, quietly observing the carousers, thoughts swirling within her head.

She recalled the daunting, suicidal task ahead of her and the crew of the Cloudsurfer. Rachel was unhappy with the uneasy arrangement she had reached with notorious criminal lord Armand Lowenstoft, but it was preferable to having her crew slaughtered and her skyvessel deposed. But then again, I traded one kind of death for another. She sighed and reclined on her seat, covering her eyes with her forearm. “What a damn mess,” Rachel muttered.

“It’s not worse than some we’ve been through – that’s for certain,” Phineas Archibald, her first mate, commented as he arrived with two large tankards of beer, brimming with froth. “Still, traveling to the Dead Continent is hardly a happy prospect.”

Rachel took one of the tankards and gave it a hearty swig, wiping her mouth with the sleeve of her camisole. “I’m well aware, Phineas. I wish we could’ve wiggled out of any dealing with Armand, but things are as they are,” she uttered, shrugging. She gulped her drink once more.

Phineas sat on the chair in front of Rachel and moved his finger over the rim of his tankard. “You know, we could just purchase loads of supplies and take the Cloudsurfer somewhere abandoned, live the rest of our days in the skies, and then plummet to our deaths when we grow old and saggy. What say you?”

Rachel chuckled and shook her head. “Dream on, Phineas – Armand would have the ship reduced to smithereens if we so much as thought about escaping. Besides, a deal’s a deal, and I intend to fulfill my end of the bargain.” She drank the last of her beer and stood up, leaving a fistful of copper pieces on the table and striding towards the exit.

“Wait! I haven’t finished my— Ah, damn it!” Phineas exclaimed as he stood up to follow his captain.

*****

Once outside, Rachel breathed in the clean, mountainous air of Anglia, closing her eyes as the twilight sun touched her forehead. She opened her eyes and gazed at the Spire dominating the view. At its topmost docks, she saw two Imperator-class flying fortresses dwarfing her Regis-class Cloudsurfer as a small legion of engineers fitted it with shock-resisting alloys on the hull, steel-mesh sails, a larger steam-sphere, and twenty-pound revolving cannons – the implements they need before traveling to the Dead Continent. My skyvessel and uncle Jonas’ legacy, she thought as she hailed a cab.

Phineas arrived behind her, still fitting his ankle-length coat. “Hey, captain! Where are we headed?” he asked when the cab reached their spot, its steam engine hissing while winding down.

“Let’s climb up; you’ll see,” Rachel replied, entering the vehicle. Its leather seat was comfortably cold, thanks to the evening air. When Phineas sat beside her, she said, “To Unsterblich Hospital, please.”

“At once, lady,” the driver said, opening the steam release valve and stepping on the car’s clutch, driving forward along the street before taking a turn to the right.

“The Unsterblich,” Phineas said, “Are we visiting Milton?”

“We are,” she confirmed, her eyes fixed on her skyvessel. We owe her that much, Rachel thought sullenly as the cab sped towards the highest-end hospital in Anglia.

The evening traffic was light; most workers and aristocrats were already in their houses, resting from a long day of administrative duties. Tall, triangular-roofed houses lined the wide street, smoke rose from the chimney pipes, and dim gas lights illuminated their empty porches. Rachel’s expression became forlorn as the houses reminded her of the country house she lived in with her father and her brother years before the Shattering. Of that house and the wonders inside, only the memory remained.

On the car window’s reflection, she saw Phineas staring at her, but she chose to ignore him and keep looking at the houses.

“You’re thinking of the old world, aren’t you?” he asked, concerned.

Rachel shrugged. “It doesn’t matter, Phineas,” she said, touching the trinket around her necklace idly. “I’m just concerned about the trip to Electria, is all.”

Phineas stared at her necklace and then at her eyes. “I’d say, Rachel, you’re less concerned about the trip itself and more worried about what we’re going to find there.” When Rachel said nothing, Phineas added, “Do you think we’ll find Javier there?”

“I don’t know what we’ll find.” Scoffing, she added, “Hell, I don’t even know what Armand expects us to find.”

“Electrical apparatuses, manuscripts, blueprints, and a means to harness electricity once again,” Phineas replied matter-of-factly.

“What I don’t understand,” Rachel uttered, “Is why no one has tried to replicate the production of electricity. It’s been over two hundred years since the Shattering; you’d think someone would have devised a means by now.”

“Hm.” Phineas brought a hand to his chin, his brow furrowing in concentration. “After the Pulse burnt out every electrical apparatus in the world, I assume no one retained the knowledge to replicate circuitry, capacitors, and other requirements for electrical production. The Shattering only complicated things further as riving continents and lands means that the materials were no longer available.” He shrugged. “Furthermore, natural gas, coal, and steam dominated current technological advancement. Nobody might have seen the need to develop technology once again.”

“Phineas?” Rachel asked, turning to her first mate.

“Captain?”

“Shut up, you know-it-all!” she exclaimed, grinning impishly at him.

Phineas blinked rapidly before returning the smile. “Well, you did ask, so I could do nothing but oblige, captain!”

They shared a laugh, and Rachel felt thankful for the levity Phineas brought into her dour mood. That’s why I keep him around, she thought fondly. He’s the perfect counterbalance to me.

2

Phineas felt a chill coursing through his spine the moment he and Rachel crossed the threshold of Unsterblich Hospital. The smell of formaldehyde and disinfectants permeating every surface of the sterile entry hall made his stomach churn. A nurse wearing a grey hospital dress pushed a stretcher through the room, its brass wheels shrieking as they traveled from one end of the hall to the other. When he peered at it, Phineas saw a body covered with a blanket. He shuddered and gritted his teeth. I hate hospitals.

Rachel scoffed next to him. “Come on, Phineas. We can face mutants, raiders, and ruins, yet your legs become jelly as we enter a hospital?”

“They do,” he replied curtly, struggling to keep himself in control. “Always have, always will,” he added, chuckling. “I remember this one time I needed to have an eye surgery, and Uncle Jonas had to convince me to get it.”

Rachel smiled. “What did he do to convince you?” she asked.

Phineas laughed. “He told me I’d be getting laser eye surgery!”

“That’s cute, Phineas. So, can you shoot lasers off your eyes?” Rachel teased.

“Believe me, I’ve tried, but somehow I feel Jonas conned me back then.”

“No wonder,” she said, shaking her head. “Do you miss him?”

“Every day, Rachel,” Phineas uttered, smiling sadly, “Just as you miss your father.”

“Well, in fairness, I didn’t watch my father die before my eyes.”

Phineas’ smile slowly vanished as dire memories returned to him.

Rachel was quick to notice the change in his expression. “I’m sorry, Phineas. That was awfully insensitive,” she said quickly.

“It’s alright, Rachel. Sometimes, we—” He was interrupted by the metal doors sliding open. Phineas turned towards the entrance and saw a burly man dressed in denim pants and a frilly white shirt, carrying a large arrangement of flowers. “Burton! Fancy seeing you here!” he exclaimed, his grin returning immediately.

Burton froze, his eyes darting to Phineas and Rachel. “Captain? First mate? What are you doing here?”

Rachel folded her arms. “Judging from the size of that bouquet, I daresay we’re here for the same reason as you.”

“I, er... if you like, captain, I may return later,” Burton offered, scratching his head shyly.

“Nonsense, man!” Phineas uttered, laughing. “Come on; let’s go see how dear Milton’s doing.”

The three of them walked up to the hospital counter – a large singular piece of wood decorated by carvings of wings, feathers, and vines. Behind the counter sat a bored-looking clerk, wearing a cerulean blouse and a flower-adorned hat. She lifted her bespectacled eyes at them. “If you’re done chatting, may I help you?” she said.

Rachel stepped forward. “You may. We’re looking for a patient—”

“Name?” the clerk said, cutting her off.

“Uh, Milton.”

The clerk peered at Rachel over her spectacles. “Full name, if you will,” she uttered sharply.

Rachel sighed. “Bureaucracy never changes.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing. We’re looking for Wilhelmina Anastasia Milton.”

“Right,” the clerk replied before bending over to retrieve a large ledger and going over its pages slowly. Phineas and Rachel shared an irked glance before the clerk finally said, “Room seven-one-three, third floor from the stairs. Turn right towards the Recovery Ward, go through the clearance hall, and you’ll find her room.” When the two remained silent, she added, “Or you can ask your friend to take you there. He’s hardly left her side since her admittance anyway.”

Rachel rapped her knuckles on the counter. “Thank you. Burton, care to lead us towards Milton?”

Burton blinked rapidly. “I, er... aye, aye, cap’n!” he said, his cheeks flushed.

“Lead on then.”

*****

The labyrinthine hallways filled Phineas with dread as they delved deeper into the heart of the hospital. The sights of ailing people bereft of the benefits of the medicine he knew before the Shattering distressed him more than his innate dislike for hospitals. Many of these maladies and ailments could have been easily treated with the proper equipment and techniques. Sadly, the knowledge was lost during the Shattering. He sighed, thinking, If— No, when we reach the Dead Continent, we may recover some medical equipment.

“Is something in your mind, first-mate?” Rachel asked, observing him.

“Hm? Ah, no. I’m just thinking,” he said, smiling.

Before Rachel could reply, Burton said, “We’re here.” He took a step forward and knocked on the wooden door of room seven-one-three.

“Come in!” a female voice answered.

Burton opened the door and stepped in, followed by Rachel and Phineas. The woman stood in front of a mirror, wearing bandages around her chest and abdomen. Phineas winced as he saw the multiple whiplash markings along her back, arms, and shoulders. Locks of ashen blond hair surrounded Milton’s feet as she shaved her head clean. She passed a hand over her bald pate before turning around. “They didn’t let me shave. They said I have beautiful hair,” she said, sulking. “Pah, a pox on them!” She looked around to greet her visitors then. “Hello, captain, first mate, and Burton.” Her face turned slightly dour upon mentioning the last name.

“Hey, girl,” interjected Rachel, “How are you feeling?”

Milton shrugged. “Well enough, so long as I have a vial of laudanum nearby. Full medical treatment is a wonderful thing,” she uttered, grinning.

“Pity not everyone can afford it,” Phineas said.

“Antibiotics, disinfectants, and medications are hard to come by, even for the richest Anglians,” Rachel said, folding her arms. “At least Armand’s “good faith” was useful for us.”

A dismayed expression appeared on Milton’s features. “I will pay for my treatment somehow, captain.”

Rachel lifted her hand. “Don’t be daft, Milton. I’m glad you are better.”

The woman brightened up. “Well then, when is the Cloudsurfer ready? It’s been six months already. Shouldn’t the engineers be done with it?” Milton asked.

“The skyvessel is practically being upgraded to a miniature Imperator-class, Milton,” Phineas explained. “The process takes time, but it should be ready soon.”

“How soon is soon, first mate? We’ve been marooned for nearly a year, and I’m damn tired of this hospital. I long to set off for the Dead Continent!” Milton exclaimed.

“About that, Milton,” Rachel said carefully, sitting at the edge of the bed. “You are not coming with us.”

Milton’s eyes widened. “That’s a bloody joke, isn’t it?”

She shook her head. “It’s not a joke. The last raid nearly cost us your life, Milton. You’ve earned your pay – nearly ten-thousand gold pieces after our haul and well-deserved retirement.”

“A pox on that, captain!” the woman uttered angrily.

“But—”

“No buts!” Milton interrupted her. “I’ve been with you for years, captain. It’s the only life I know. Besides,” she said, grinning, “I ain’t stupid enough to miss the opportunity to travel into the Dead Continent, even if Burton’s hairy rear comes with us!”

Burton guffawed. “You’d sorely miss me if I didn’t!” he teased.

Milton’s nose wrinkled. “Oh, yeah, I would especially miss the rank aroma followin’ you around!” she countered.

A smile formed on Rachel’s lips. “You are free to stay on Anglia and spend your riches, though.”

“Pah, please, captain,” Milton said, rolling her eyes. “What would I spend them on, booze and courtesans? I’ll pass on that. I’d rather be on board the Cloudsurfer,” she stated, folding her arms. “If you would have me, of course.”

“You are always welcome on board, Milton,” Rachel replied. “The skyvessel should be ready to take flight in less than a month.”

“Well and good,” Milton uttered, smiling genuinely. “Now, please leave me; I have to change my bandages.” She winked at Burton.

Phineas stymied a chuckle as Burton’s face grew bright red. Still, he said, “Milton, a word with you in private?”

“Phineas?” Rachel asked, unsure of what he’s up to.

“It’s important, captain,” he replied.

Milton looked from one person to the other and shrugged. “Sure, first mate.”

After Rachel and Burton left, Phineas approached Milton. “You are aware that Burton fancies you, yes?” he asked.

“I am. He hasn’t left my side for as long as I’ve been bedridden. Though I appreciate his attention, I don’t know how to correspond them,” she uttered.

“Well, do you fancy him, too?” Phineas asked. Milton said nothing, but he noticed the softening of her features. “I thought as much,” he added, interpreting the woman’s silence. “I’d recommend you find a way. You were close to dying, Milton, and the truth is that we managed to get you back in one piece because of Burton.  You have been given a chance to let him know your feelings for him – do not squander it.”

Milton scoffed. “Just as you let Rachel know of your feelings for her, Phineas?”

His eyes widened, but then he assumed a commanding pose. “That is a deeply personal matter, officer. The relationship between the captain and I is – and must remain – a purely professional one. Am I understood?”

The woman’s eyes narrowed. Despite that, she answered, “Perfectly, first mate.”

“Good. We will send word as soon as the Cloudsurfer is ready to soar. In the meantime,” he said, a smirk forming on his lips, “Go ahead and change your bandages.” Phineas turned away and left the room.

Outside, he found Rachel and Burton waiting for him. “Done?” she asked.

“Aye, captain.”

Rachel shrugged. “Well, I need a drink, so let’s go back to Welder’s Hole. ‘You coming, Burton?”

“Aye, cap’n. I need one, too,” the burly man replied as they set off along the hall.

Phineas sighed as he trailed after them, Milton’s words echoing within his thoughts. My feelings for Rachel… I practically grew up with her, and we’ve been through more life-or-death situations than I care to remember. I made a promise to Jonas that I would always look after her, and I intend to keep it.

3

Although a few things in Rachel’s life had made her mouth gape in awe, seeing the Cloudsurfer as the finishing touches were being added was chief among them. Though its frame remained the same size, its hull had been upgraded with high-density ablative armor plates and ceramic layers, overlaid with a gunmetal finish. The guns protruding from the two middle decks had a brand-new sheen on them, their nests protected by semicircular composite shields.

Phineas whistled beside Rachel. “Well, that’s quite a sight to behold! Remember when we first laid eyes upon it?” he uttered with a wide-eyed expression on his face.

Rachel scoffed. “That bathtub with propellers ain’t ever takin’ flight!” she said, mimicking Jonas from memory.

“Spot on! That’s Jonas, alright,” Phineas replied through a peal of laughter.

“Indeed! And against all odds, the Troubling Circumstances took flight!”

“Yeesh! I wish I’d never remember that was its original name. Good thing you renamed it the Cloudsurfer, Rachel,” he said, chuckling.

“A mighty good name,” a voice called behind them, “Perfect for a mighty good vessel.”

Rachel and Phineas turned around immediately and saw Armand Lowenstoft walking towards the engineering dock, his coat and intricate cravat swaying with every step he took.

“I’m glad to see you put your payment to good use, captain!” the man said, a large smile splitting his lips.

Rachel took a step back and unconsciously folded her arms. “That’s a quaint way of saying, “I made a good investment,” Armand. So, to what do we owe your presence? I doubt you’re here on a merely social visit.”

Armand clapped his hands. “Captain, captain, captain, you wound me!” he uttered, shaking his head. “Where’s the candor, the civility, the camaraderie?” Gravely, he added, “When will you take off?”

“Closer and closer. Fitting new equipment on a skyvessel, replacing its lander, adding bigger guns – who would have thought it takes time?”

“Well, in that regard, I’m sure you’re setting sail soon, yes?” Armand asked.

“That is why my first mate and I are here. We will talk with Engineer Philip,” she uttered.

“Well, what are we waiting for then? Come on; the coast’s clear!” he exclaimed, spreading his arms before turning around.

“Who are you— Oh. Oh, no. OH, HELL NO!”

“Rachel,” Phineas said, leaning closer to his captain, “Stay calm. There’s no need to—”

“I don’t want that bastard anywhere near my skyvessel!” she said, cutting him off. Rachel pointed an accusing finger at the bearded man making his way to Armand’s side. With every step, a steaming hiss came from the brace on the man’s leg, making his heavy overcoat sway. His beard was split by a smug grin, while his brow furrowed as he glared at Rachel and Phineas.

“I assure you, Captain Sternritter, the disdain is mutual,” Copernicus Zoltan uttered, crossing his arms. “But I happen to still be under Mr. Lowenstoft’s employ, and he needed an aeronautics expert by his side.”

“Aeronautics expert, you?” Rachel scoffed. “Please. Whoever you stole the Terminus Est from was an aeronautics expert. You’re just a common cutthroat, a mercenary, and a thief.”

Zoltan let out a burst of rumbling laughter. “That’s rich coming from you, captain, considering you stole my haul and left me and my crew buried under tons of rubble. Funny – I figure you’d be curious to know how we came out unscathed.”

“Don’t know; don’t care,” Rachel replied smugly. She turned towards Armand and stated, “I don’t want him on my vessel.”

“Captain, please,” Armand said apologetically, “I need some form of quality assurance on your ship’s status.”

“So, my word counts for nothing?” she retorted.

Armand sighed. “Understand, Captain Sternritter, that I spent quite a sum of money purchasing goods, which, by rights, were already mine. I spent even more making certain you had access to the best engineers, top-notch materials, and a deck full of supplies. I simply want to know my investment was well-placed,” he said, trying to sound reasonable.

“Rachel,” Phineas muttered, “You go talk to Philip, and I take Armand and Zoltan on a ‘tour’ of our vessel.”

“Are you insane? Zoltan will know our armaments and defenses!”

“He will anyways – Armand must have access to the upgrades log,” he said.

She turned around to face her first mate. “What are you planning, Phineas?”

“Nothing,” he replied curtly.

“No, bullcrap! You intend to assassinate Zoltan, don’t you?” When he said nothing, Rachel uttered in a low voice, “Listen, I want him dead as much as you do – for Jonas’ sake and yours. But if you try to shank him on board the Cloudsurfer, the constabulary will be all upon us, the vessel will get impounded, and you’d be incarcerated. Is that what you want?”

Phineas stayed silent again.

Rachel sighed. “You are staying with me, Phineas.” She decided for him.

“Rachel, I assure you that—”

She cut him off with a stern look. “That is an order, first mate.”

Phineas locked gazes with Rachel, and she saw the impotent anger in his muddy-green eyes. Finally, he acquiesced. “As you command, captain.”

Zoltan took a step forward. “If you two are done with your lovers’ quarrel, may we board your vessel? I’m eager to get this done with.”

Rachel nodded. To Armand, she said, “If you will come with us?”

“Please,” Armand replied charmingly, “After you.”

***

The main deck of the Cloudsurfer was cleaner than Phineas had ever seen it, and the gun metal finishes along the outer handrail were an excellent contrast to the dark laminated floors of the skyvessel. Engineers were still affixing the last elements to the vessel, testing tensile strength, weather resistance, and general aesthetics. Though the sails were furled, Phineas could see the black steel mesh woven into their fibers, strengthening and protecting them against rips and tears.

Though the Cloudsurfer was impressive, he found himself unable to enjoy the tour. Phineas glanced sideways at Copernicus Zoltan and felt his molars grinding to dust in his mouth. I wish I could scalp him – hair and beard both – before chucking him overboard.

Zoltan noticed his staring. “Whatcha lookin’ at, pretty boy?” he barked.

“Ah, nothing. Just calculating measurements.”

“For?”

Phineas shrugged and averted his gaze. “The size of a gallows,” he lied.

Zoltan chuckled derisively. “Funny, pretty boy. You’d love that, wouldn’t you?”

“Enough,” Rachel interjected. “Zoltan, you might be under Armand’s employ, but you are still on my skyvessel. Am I understood?”

He smiled in feigned innocence.

“Good,” she said without waiting for a reply. “And you, first mate,” she added, looking at Phineas, “I gave you an order, didn’t I?”

“I don’t remember, captain. Did you order me not to gut this swine or not to throw him overboard?” he replied sarcastically.

“Phineas,” she uttered, her voice sounding dangerous.

“Right. My apologies, captain.” 

Rachel turned around and led Armand and Zoltan along the ship. Phineas sighed, feeling his stomach constricting. She’s right. If I do anything right here, right now, I’ll ruin myself, he thought. Worse, I’ll ruin her. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before catching up to the three and taking his place beside his captain.

***

Damn it, Phineas! Do you think I don’t want to make Zoltan pay for Jonas’ death? Do you think I enjoy having these two crooks on our vessel? Rachel felt her anger more difficult to keep under control as they visited more sections of the Cloudsurfer.

She had to admit that Philip and his cadre of engineers had done a magnificent job not only outside the skyvessel but inside as well. The helium hoses coursing inside the ship had been replaced with state-of-the-art, high-compression piping to compensate for its added weight. The engineering deck had been refurbished, removing the antiquated steam regulators and gauge panels and exchanging them with smaller variants to accommodate the central piece of the deck. The new enormous engine dominated the view, its elements carefully and efficiently arranged along the full length of the Cloudsurfer. The condensation chamber was placed at the prow to make use of its lower temperature, while the furnace was at the rear end of the deck for easier access. The steam sphere was in the center, its motion fed by the large bronze pipes attached to it and its complements.

Armand spoke. “Top-of-the-line engine, Captain Sternritter. It better take you to your destination!” he exclaimed proudly. “I requested one of the newer... additions.”

Rachel raised an eyebrow. “You did?”

“Indeed,” he uttered, nodding. “Let’s find the engineer; he may be able to explain it more clearly than I ever could.” He walked towards the staircase.

Rachel sighed. “Lead on; feel right at home,” she muttered.

Zoltan stepped beside her and leaned close to whisper, “You must hate this, don’t you, Sternritter? To have me on your ship and on this deck to boot. As I understand, your dear uncle was here when my cannons tore through your hull, hm?”

A flash of rage coursed through Rachel as she spun around and smashed her boot against Zoltan’s braced right foot.

“AGH! You demon wench! I’m going to—”

“I’m sorry,” Rachel interrupted, an innocent smile plastered on her face. “I missed a step.” She turned away from Zoltan and continued following Armand.

Phineas approached her. “I heard screams. What happened?” he asked, curious.

Rachel smiled. “I missed a step,” she said nonchalantly before going into the main deck. When she saw Chief Engineer Philip resting on a handrail, she waved her hand in greeting. “Hey, Philip!”

The diminutive old man turned to look at her, his eyes seeming enormous behind his large eyeglasses. A nervous  but sincere smile formed on his face as he said, “Captain Sternritter! G-good to see you and,” he looked sideways at Armand and shuddered visibly, but he still managed to croak, “Mr. L-L-Lowenstoft, sir.”

“Philip,” Armand uttered in acknowledgment. “Was my request fulfilled?”

“I— Yes, it was.”

“And did you inform the captain about it?”

Philip looked pleadingly at Rachel before replying, “N-no, s-sir, as requested.”

“Splendid! No reason to ruin the surprise, was there?” He turned towards Rachel and uttered, “I requested of Philip and his engineers to install the latest advancements in forward propulsion: three compressed gas thrusters equipped with afterburners for maximum velocity!” Armand laughed joyously. “They will help you reach your destination faster, of course.”

“Y-y-yes, C-Captain Sternritter!” Phillip exclaimed. “Y-you may also use it to outmaneuver any enemy you may encounter.”

“But that won’t be necessary now, will it?” Armand added hastily.

“I... N-no, no, not at all, no.”

Rachel looked askance at Armand but said nothing. Instead, she faced the engineer. “How long until the Cloudsurfer is ready?”

“That’s the best news, captain! A week from now, you may commandeer your skyvessel once more!” Philip reported, beaming.

“Excellent!” To her first made, she ordered, “Phineas, it’s time to round up the crew. Don’t mention our endeavor unless they ask. If they don’t want to sign up, it’s their choice. Am I clear?”

“Crystal, captain.”

Rachel nodded before looking at Armand. “One week from now, we will sail off to our suicidal quest to the Dead Continent. Are you happy now?”

Armand laughed. “Overjoyed,” he stated.

4

The lavish furnishings and comfortable cushions in Armand Lowenstoft’s abode were a stark contrast to Nadir’s dreadful hellscape. Copernicus Zoltan was certain that the fact that such opulence could exist amid a sea of poverty and decay was a piece of insipid social commentary on Anglia’s distribution of riches. Still, he didn’t want to know or care about that. What he cared about was the “extended business proposition” offered by Armand the moment he returned to the Spire.

Zoltan grimaced as another jolt of pain spread through his damaged leg, its old wound teased awake by the wench’s stomp. Even the warm water his leg was immersed in did nothing to diminish the pain, and laudanum was out of the question. If things went as planned, he would set off soon after the Cloudsurfer.

The large doors of the room opened, and Armand walked in. His earlier lavish coat was replaced by yet another – somehow even more garish – garment, displaying an impressive array of golden scrollwork on his navy-blue lapels, and adorned by another annoyingly intricate cravat. “Apologies, my man,” he said happily, “I was fixing a few minor details of our oncoming endeavor, pertaining mainly to my choices of attire.”

Zoltan chuckled. “Your choices of attire? Why would you need that at all?”

“Because,” Armand replied, “I am coming with you.”

Zoltan’s eyes widened, and a smirk formed on his face. “You are coming with me aboard the Terminus Est as I go after Sternritter’s Cloudsurfer?” He folded his arms. “What’s gotten into you, Armand? A sudden knack for adventure?” Zoltan asked, suspicious.

“Please, my friend, don’t be droll,” Armand said, waving a hand dismissively. “I spent an exorbitant amount of my fortune in outfitting your skyvessel with the best equipment to date, by far outclassing the lady captain’s. Do you think I did it out of the kindness of my heart?”

The bearded man reclined on the couch, crossing his left leg over the right one. “I don’t understand why you need Rachel in the first place, Armand. If you intended to spend so much on outdated upgrades for her ship, and gods know how many times the same amount for the Terminus Est, why force her into your service?” Zoltan asked.

Armand stood up and paced around the room slowly. He clasped his hands on his back before stopping in front of a life-sized painting of himself. “Long ago, Zoltan, I heard a story of three wanderers who came from the mountains – a man in his thirties and two children of no more than six. They carried items that captivated the imaginations of everyone who gazed upon them.” He chuckled, adding, “Myself included. You must understand that up to that point, the words ‘electricity’ and ‘magic’ were synonymous since no one had knowledge from before the Shattering. To see fully functioning electrical apparatuses, Zoltan, and hear those three talking about the old world and the wonders it had, it left an impression on me – an impression strong enough to pursue the relics of the old world by any means necessary. Now, two of those wanderers have grown up.” He turned quickly towards Zoltan, and his eyes narrowed. “The third was felled by your gunfire.”

“Come on, Armand!” he complained. “You are a smart man. Do you truly think that Rachel is—”

Armand lifted a hand to stop him from talking. “Do not underestimate my intellect, Zoltan. That would be a dreadful mistake to make,” he warned sternly. “I am certain that Rachel and her first mate are those children. My suspicion was confirmed by the necklace she wears.”

“Explain yourself.”

“I need not and will not explain myself to you, Zoltan. I pay you, and you perform a service – that’s as far as our relationship goes,” Armand said.

Zoltan shrugged. “Fair enough. So, when do we set off, and how do we approach the Cloudsurfer without being detected?”

Armand finally grinned. “As I told you, I was taking care of that.”

***

Pride swelled in Rachel’s chest as she saw her crew standing before her. She expected more than a few deserters – she could not blame the others over their possible desertion – but she saw her whole crew waiting for her. Rachel smiled as she saw Milton standing close to Burton. A bit further along, the twins Anselm and Elisa saluted her. She nodded at them, took a deep breath, and addressed everyone. “Alright, crew, you must know the deal by now. If you don’t, then prepare to soil your breeches. We are heading to the Dead Continent. I won’t lie to you,” she closed her eyes as she added, “We may not make it back. If anyone wants to stay on shore, you are free to do so.”

No one said anything.

After a few seconds, Rachel uttered, “Your silence comforts me. In that case, we’re ready to—”

“Wait!” a voice called from the dock. “Wait, Captain Rachel! Captain Rachel Sternritter!” A young man, no older than twenty-two, walked onto the Cloudsurfer’s main deck. He was dressed in short, loose pants and leather boots. On his torso, he wore a many-colored shirt, which seemed to be made out of bits and pieces of fabric. His long copper hair clung to his skull as he bent over to catch his breath. When he finally did, the young man said, “I’m here to join your venture!”

Rachel folded her arms. “Are you now? How odd. I don’t remember setting up any listing for crewmates. Phineas?” He shrugged and shook his head. “Well, how come you want to join this venture?”

“I was a part of the engineering crew that worked on your ship, and I’d like to skyfare with you!” he stated.

“Is that so?” Rachel commented, looking askance at the boy. “I don’t remember seeing you among Phillip’s engineers.”

“I was under the galley most of the time, captain, completing the furnishings and upgrades.”

“I see. Do we have any deserters, Phineas?”

“Two deckhands didn’t return, Rachel,” he offered.

“Well, it seems to be your lucky day,” Rachel said to the boy. “What is your name?”

He saluted exaggeratedly and replied, “Emil Pierre du Saint-Germaine, captain!”

“Right, your name’s a mouthful, so we’ll call you Emmy. Does that suit you?” she asked.

“Er... captain, that’s not my name.”

Rachel smirked. “If you want your full name, we can call you Emmy-pee. Is that better?”

Emil blinked rapidly and acquiesced, “No, Emmy’s fine.” A few seconds went by before he hastily added, “Captain.”

“Right on.” Rachel clapped her hands. “Well, if there are no more distractions, go to your posts! Engineers, start the furnace! Gunners, load and secure the cannons! Deckhands, release the clamps!” Turning to Phineas, she said, “First mate, we’re going to navigation.”

“Aye, captain,” Phineas replied, following Rachel as she went down to the navigation deck.

Upon entering, they saw helmsman Riker standing before a brass steering gear, carefully maneuvering the Cloudsurfer away from the dock. “Helmsman,” Rachel called, beckoning him to come forward.

“Captain,” Riker said in greeting.

“Report.”

“Status nominal. I’ve voiced the Spire, and we’re clear to take off, captain. Engines are at cruising capacity, and their pressure is increasing. We’re ready, captain.”

“Excellent,” Rachel uttered appreciatively. Stepping towards the front of the navigation deck and peering out of the crystal panes, she uttered, “Take us away, Riker.”

“Aye, aye, captain!”

The Cloudsurfer rumbled slightly as its rotors, fed by the steam pressure building up in the engineering deck, began turning to keep it aloft. Pipes creaked and hissed softly as they were filled with pressurized helium; dials and indicators started showing the skyvessel’s condition was optimal. Riker pulled a release lever, opened the main steam valve and its ancillary derivations, and steered the vessel from the dock.

Rachel clasped her hands behind her back as the Cloudsurfer was set free from the Spire and hovered above Anglia. Beneath her, she could see the roofs of houses, the monorail connecting the entirety of its habitable space, and the shimmering waters of River Tyrfing. “I’m glad I get to see this while conscious, Phineas,” she mused, smiling.

“I’m glad you get to see it, Rachel.” Then, he mumbled, “I feared I’d lose you.”

“What was that?” Rachel asked curiously.

“Nothing, I said the vista is gorgeous,” he uttered louder.

“I see.” To Riker, she said, “Full speed ahead, helmsman.”

“Aye, captain!” Riker exclaimed, pushing the throttle lever forward.

With a lurching motion, the Cloudsurfer soared above Anglia, climbing high in the sky to reach its optimal altitude. Swathes of land blurred below the skyvessel, looking like pieces of patchwork decorating an enormous green blanket. Before long, small farmsteads and abodes became scarce before completely disappearing, giving way to the barren lands around the country. Scorched wastelands, deep crags, wilted trees, and horrid gashes dotted the landscape, serving as a dire testament to the destruction wrought by the Shattering.

Phineas stood beside Rachel. “Do you think life will return to these lands?” he asked.

She shrugged. “Perhaps hundreds or thousands of years from now, the world may heal. If we don’t ruin it again, of course.”

“Oh?”

Rachel shook her head. “I’m just thinking of our voyage, Phineas. I don’t know what we’ll encounter on the Dead Continent or what manner of evil we can unleash.” She turned to face him; her eyes intently locked on his.

“What do you mean?” Phineas asked, his gaze narrowing curiously.

“If we manage to survive in an Electria-built bunker, I wonder who or what else managed to make it this far.”

“In all honesty, Rachel, I don’t know. I don’t think it matters anyway,” he said.

“Why wouldn’t it matter?”

Phineas shrugged. “It was but a matter of time that we traveled to the resting place of old Electria.”

“Elaborate,” she ordered.

“I remember the first time you laid eyes on the Troubling Circumstances ten years ago, long before it was christened as the Cloudsurfer.” He smiled fondly as memories returned to him.  “You and I were sixteen back then, and Uncle Jonas swindled the skyvessel from a poor cards player.” Chuckling, he added, “The things ludopaths will do for one more wager. In any case, Rachel, I remember the glint on your eye the moment you saw the skyvessel in front of us. It was raggedy and rackety and looked like it could barely hold its weight, but it meant the world to you.” Phineas paused and took a deep breath before stating, “It meant you could look for Javier one day.”

Rachel crossed her arms defensively. “Can you blame me for wanting to find something – anything – about my missing brother?”

“I don’t, Rachel, and try not to misconstrue my meaning, please. But as I understood, Javier was working with my,” Phineas swallowed loudly, gritting his teeth as he said, “My grandfather.”

“So?”

“So, Corvin Archibald unleashed the Pulse and caused the subsequent Shattering -- that much cannot be denied. Say, you were to find Javier alive, buried under a bunker, and preserved through a cryo-chamber. What would you do then?” he prodded.

Rachel weighed Phineas’ words in her mind and sighed as she realized he asked a question that she had no answer for. Suppose I do find him – what then? I’ve grown older in a hostile world, and he might still be the same age, preserved in ice. Our father is gone, and the world has changed. “I don’t know,” she replied, glaring at her first mate.

Phineas nodded. “That’s why I said it doesn’t matter what we find – old-world technology, mutants, Javier, or the other heads of Electria, I don’t know. What matters in the end is what you choose to do with our discoveries.” His eyes narrowed, and he tilted his head. “Do you truly intend to deliver whatever we find to Armand Lowenstoft?”

Rachel took her gaze away from Phineas and stared at the clouds through the crystal panes of the navigation room. “He pays well, and we made a deal.”

“He pays well, Rachel, but he’s a damn criminal!” Phineas blurted out. “He has Zoltan under his employment; he hoards functional electrical apparatuses, electrical apparatuses. Think, Rachel! If reverse-engineered, such implements could kickstart a new technological revolution and give the people of Anglia a better quality of life. Still, they are sitting in Lowenstoft’s vault, gathering dust and cobwebs,” he paused, his eyes widening in concern, “Or worse.”

“Worse?” she asked, confused.

“Nothing – never mind. I merely shudder to imagine what a man such as Armand or Zoltan could do if they had access to electrical weapons and instruments.”

Rachel turned around. “Well, that won’t be our problem now, will it?” she replied indifferently.

“Of course, it will be if we give Armand the opportunity!”

“We made a deal with the man, and I intend to fulfill it,” Rachel uttered flatly.

Phineas scoffed. “Is that all you care about, Rachel? Money?”

Rachel gasped, and her eyes became moist as she remembered Jonas saying the same thing to her long ago. On the day he died. Grinding her teeth, she struggled to fight back her tears and coldly replied, “I care for many things, first mate, but this conversation is not one of them. You are dismissed.”

Seeing her reaction, Phineas tried to apologize. “Rachel, I didn’t mean to—”

“Did I stutter, first mate?” she asked, interrupting him mid-sentence.

“I—” Phineas sighed. “No, captain.” He saluted before leaving the navigation room.

When he was out of sight, Rachel let her breath out and leaned against the handrail. Damn it, Phineas! Why must you be so damn difficult?

“Jeez, captain, that was harsh,” Riker voiced behind the helm.

“Did I ask for your opinion, helmsman?” Rachel spat.

“No, ma’am. Apologies,” he replied hurriedly.

Rachel sighed. “No, Riker, I apologize. I’m on edge after this... exchange. An exchange that I needn’t tell you was quite private, I hope?”

“My lips are sealed, captain,” Riker promised.

“Good,” Rachel uttered flatly. “What direction have we been traveling towards?” she asked, changing the subject.

“As per the coordinates supplied by you, captain, the Cloudsurfer has been traveling north-northwest.”

“Good. Keep ‘er going steady, Riker, and inform me of anything unusual.” She closed her eyes and massaged her temple. “I need to recline for a while.”

Riker saluted. “Aye, captain!”

Rachel nodded and left the navigation room. Outside, the evening air was cold and crisp; she breathed in the aromas of the sky. Just then, a strange smell reached her nose. She leaned over the handrail of the main deck and looked below. Water… We’ve already reached the ocean! she thought in amazement. Impressive – the Cloudsurfer is faster than I expected. She took another deep breath, her brow furrowing. That smell – ozone – was caused by lightning. We must be coming closer to the storm around the Dead Continent. A low, dull rumble, barely within earshot, reached her. I’m not mistaken then. We are close.

***

Phineas saw Rachel lean against a handrail and sniff the air. He lifted his face and did the same, his brows furrowing in concentration. Ozone and saltwater… We must be getting close. When he lowered his head, he saw Rachel staring at him before pointedly turning away and strolling into her cabin.

Phineas sighed. Damn it, Rachel! Why must you be so damn difficult? He didn’t mean to cause her any offense; he just wanted her to reconsider her agreement with Armand Lowenstoft. Something wasn’t right about it – he knew it the moment Zoltan stepped aboard the Cloudsurfer. Armand had another plan, but he couldn’t figure out why. Well, plenty of time to mull about it over a tankard of beer, he thought before walking towards the staircase leading belowdecks.

Before he reached the staircase, Phineas saw a strange movement from the corner of his eye. He glanced sideways at the source of the movement and saw the patchwork shirt of the new recruit, Emmy, as he furtively made his way towards a service hatch. Now, what are you doing? Phineas wondered as he covertly followed his path. Emmy disappeared into the service hatch, unnoticed by everyone but him. The first mate lingered on the main deck for a moment before following the new crewmate.

He climbed into the service hatch, and the temperature change was immediate. Pipes and hoses lined the walls of the narrow walkway, hissing valves ejected jets of scalding-hot steam, making the narrow hall feel suffocating and oppressive. Phineas heard a voice coming from the end of the corridor and slowly made his way towards it.

“Yes, we are now close to the Dead Continent,” Emmy said.

Who is he talking to?

“You can bring it in. Make sure to be at top altitude. That way, the Cloudsurfer won’t realize your approach.”

What the hell is he talking about?

“As you commanded, Master Armand, they suspect nothing. You can send in the interceptors and board the ship. The wench is in her cabin,” Emmy continued.

Phineas’ eyes widened in fear as he understood what was happening. Armand, you bastard! He started backing away from Emmy, careful not to make a noise. Then, he turned around and started making his way towards the service hatch when one of his coattails caught on a loose piece of machinery, tearing it off and clattering loudly on the metallic floor. “Damn it!”

“Who goes there?” Emmy called.

Phineas said nothing; instead, he bolted for the exit as quickly as his legs could carry him, disregarding the hissing steam jets and pieces of metal randomly strewn along the corridor. He climbed the hatch towards the main deck and cruised along its length, moving towards the poop deck. When he reached the captain’s room, he banged on the double doors while yelling, “Rachel! Rachel, come out! Rachel, damn it!”

She opened the doors, an angry scowl on her face. “What do you want, Phineas?”

“Rachel, it’s important. I need you to—”

“Damn it, Phineas! If this is about Armand again, I’ll—”

“Rachel, please, will you shut up for a moment and listen to me?!” he cut her off angrily. “I found Emmy talking on a crystal set. He was signaling Armand sneak up on us. The bastard set us up!”

Rachel’s eyes widened. “What did he say?”

“He told the receiver – Armand – to “send in the interceptors” and board our ship,” Phineas disclosed.

“Armand? That’s impossible! He couldn’t—” Rachel was interrupted by a hail of enormous harpoons falling onto the Cloudsurfer’s main deck; their sharp ends affixed to tremendous chains, clamping onto the metal planks of its surface. “Damn it!” she exclaimed as the heavy chains became taut, and her skyvessel ground to a halt in a violent lurch. The crew fell and stumbled on their posts, suffering surface wounds as inertia pulled them forward.

The door to the galley opened, and Rachel’s officers climbed out. “What the bloody hell just happened?” Milton asked, nursing a wounded shoulder.

“Milton, Burton,” Rachel uttered, still catching her breath. “Gatlings! Get ready to defend the skyvessel – we’re under attack!”

Milton and Burton saluted. “Aye, captain!” they replied in unison before returning to the galley and heading for the weapons storage.

“Elisa, Anselm, man the revolving cannons. I’ve got trustworthy word that we’re about to be attacked by interceptors.”

“Aye, captain!” the twins said.

“Can someone find and seize Emmy? I want his head.” Rachel turned towards Phineas and uttered, “Telescope, please.” Her first mate removed the implement from his coat and offered it to her. Rachel looked through the device and followed the length of the chains until she saw two enormous Ducatus-class landers holding her vessel hostage. She gritted her teeth; further above, she saw the outline of a gargantuan Imperator-class flying fortress. “Damn it; it’s the Terminus Est!” she muttered in a hiss before turning towards the navigation deck and handing the telescope back to her first mate. “Phineas, on me!”

He trailed after her, and they burst into navigation together. Rachel pulled a handle, and a loud alarm started blaring across the Cloudsurfer as its defense systems activated. The crystal panes of the navigation room were covered by thick sheets of gunmetal, while protective shells extended above the skyvessel’s rotors to prevent damage. Above, the steel-mesh sails furled, and the masts retracted to their lowest position.

Rachel removed the speaking end of the vessel’s crystal set. “Attention, crew! Go to your battle stations! This is not a drill – I repeat, this is not a drill! Gunners, man the cannons! Pilots, onto our interceptors – bring down anything that moves and isn’t us! Engineers, bring your welding implements up; sever the chains binding us!” To Phineas, she ordered, “You are in charge of defending the upper deck. I’m commandeering our skyvessel.”

“But Rachel, we’re trapped by the landers!”

“Precisely. I need you to inform me the moment we are free,” she stated calmly.

Phineas felt dismay growing within him, but he trusted Rachel’s instincts. “Aye, captain,” he said before facing the helmsman he said, “Riker, we’re defending this skyvessel.”

Riker nodded and followed Phineas as he made his way out of navigation, leaving Rachel inside.

As he stepped out, he saw his crewmates holding pistols, rifles, blunderbusses, and other weapons to defend the deck. Engineers clambered out, wearing large oxygen-and-gas welders to try and cut off the thick metal harpoons; sparks flew as the flames of their machines hit the thick chains holding the Cloudsurfer hostage. Phineas lifted his gaze towards the space above them and saw a black cloud heading their way. His mouth gaped in fear. “My gods!” he exclaimed as the swarm of interceptors neared their target.

The cannons of the Cloudsurfer roared, ejecting their payloads into the mass of interceptors heading its way. A score of interceptors caught ablaze as the twenty-pound warheads penetrated their targets before another salvo felled more interceptors. Still, their number seemed not to dwindle. The keel compartment of the Cloudsurfer opened, dislodging the ship’s own interceptors, the small mosquito-shaped gyrocopters quickly heading towards the incoming enemy, their weapons firing non-stop.

Strafe after strafe, the Cloudsurfer’s interceptors kept felling those of the Terminus Est’s, but no salvos flew towards the former. What is going on? Phineas wondered. Why aren’t they attacking us? He pulled his telescope and trained it upon the smoking leftovers of the enemy interceptors. Through the fire in the sky, he saw scores of Terminus Est’s crewmen, dressed in state-of-the-art exosuits, heading towards the deck of the Cloudsurfer. “Damn it, damn it, damn it! It was a ruse!” Phineas pulled out his crystal set and called the interceptors. “It’s a trap! Come back! The ship is undefended; you have to– AGH!” Just then, a bullet hitting the wall beside him cut him off, its shrapnel grazing his boot but causing no damage. “Take cover!” he roared as the exo-clad crewmates of the other skyvessel fired upon the Cloudsurfer before reaching their destination.

Cold-gas jets hissed violently as the Terminus Est crew alighted on the deck of the Cloudsurfer, wielding heavy auto-cannons as easily as if they were simple rifles. A sepulchral silence took over the deck as Cloudsurfer’s crew hid behind various points of cover. It didn’t last for long, though, as the interlopers opened heavy fire upon the crewmates.

Phineas uttered an expletive before ordering, “Men! Hit them with everything you have; we must give our engineers room to sever those chains! Aim for the valves on their steam-packs – those are their weak spots!”

“First mate?” Burton asked beside Phineas.

“What is it, Burton?”

“Are we going to make it?”

Phineas held Burton’s gaze and sighed. “I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “They are after Rachel – Armand and Zoltan want her for whatever reason.” His expression darkened as he unsheathed his revolving flintlock. “And I don’t intend to hand her over!”

Phineas climbed out of cover and fired a salvo against the Terminus Est crew, hitting a valve on one of the steam-packs, which hissed before releasing its tremendous pressure, slamming its user onto the deck, swinging him against one of his crewmates and tossing him off-deck. Phineas returned to cover and said, “They are difficult but not impossible to get rid of. All we need is time, men. For the captain!”

“For the captain!” his crewmates echoed before opening fire.

Phineas let out an enraged bellow as he discharged his weapon onto the invaders, and the revolving cannons of the Cloudsurfer felled more incoming foes. Amid the gunfire, the engineers, carrying their heavy implements, made their way towards the chains and resumed their labor, trying to cut the enormous links holding the skyvessel. One of the links was severed, and the vessel swayed violently. One of the engineers fell off the vehicle, while the other was reduced to a pulp by an auto-cannon shell.

Damn it; there’s still one chain left! Phineas thought angrily as one of the crewmates of the Cloudsurfer fell beside him, his head reduced to red mist. I have to do something! “Cover me!” he yelled before jumping out of cover and jumping off the poop deck and onto the main deck of the skyvessel, skipping over fallen exo-clad men and dodging broken steam-packs haphazardly strewn about. The crew of the Terminus Est ignored him as they were being pelted by Milton and Burton’s expert aiming. Panting, Phineas made his way to his objective – a discarded, undamaged auto-cannon lying by the remaining half of one of his enemies. He leaned over to pick up the weapon, but it proved too heavy for him.

Disappointment threatened to overwhelm him as Phineas uselessly tried to pick up the weapon. Damn it! I can’t do it; I can’t lift this damn thing! Just as I couldn’t help Uncle Jonas, just as I cannot protect Rachel! DAMN IT! He tasted blood in his mouth as he violently gritted his teeth. But powered by adrenaline, he managed to lift the auto-cannon enough to aim it at the remaining chain. He let out a mighty yell as he pulled the weapon’s trigger and was propelled backward by its tremendous recoil. He felt some of his ribs shattering by the impact, but the gambit paid off as the remaining link of the chain broke, setting the Cloudsurfer free.

Panting, Phineas pulled out his crystal set to contact Rachel. “NOW!” he exclaimed.

5

The moment the Cloudsurfer rocked violently, Rachel knew it was time – hearing Phineas’ voice only confirmed it to her. She pulled the ship’s speaker. “Everyone, brace yourselves!” she yelled before tightly gripping the helm with one hand and ramming her other fist on the gas propellant’s ignition.

Nothing happened.

“My god, come on!” Rachel pressed the ignition again, with the same result. “COME ON!” When she pressed the button once more, she felt inertia tugging at her as the thrusters finally ejected their payload.

The skyvessel lurched forward at a tremendous velocity, propelled by the gas afterburners affixed to its hull. She knew the Terminus Est’s interceptors would be unable to catch up with the Cloudsurfer, making it safe for them for the time being.

“Captain!” came Phineas’ pained, worried voice.

“What is it, first mate?” she replied.

“We’re heading into the storm!” he reported.

“Oh, god,” she muttered, reaching for the auxiliary visor of the navigation deck. Ahead of the Cloudsurfer, Rachel saw an ominous thunderhead, large enough to dwarf an Imperator-class flying fortress. Blue and violet lightning jumped from cloud to cloud, momentarily illuminating sections of the storm. “Phineas,” she said shakily, “Listen to me. I need you to lead the crew into the landers. Use them as life-rafts and abandon the skyvessel. I repeat, abandon the skyvessel!”

“Are you insane, Rachel?!” Phineas exclaimed. “We can make it through the storm; the Cloudsurfer was upgraded for that purpose!”

“We miscalculated, damn it! We didn’t expect to be hounded by Armand and Zoltan; we didn’t count on our hull being damaged! Phineas, I need you to save the crew.” Her voice broke at the last words as a knot formed on her throat. “Please,” she added pleadingly.

“Rachel, I’m not leaving you behind!”

“First mate, you are, and you will, and that’s a bloody order! Take the crew to the landers and lead them towards safety,” Rachel uttered, willing her voice to sound more commanding.

“Rachel, listen to reason,” Phineas insisted. “Abandon the ship with us. We can—”

“YOU LISTEN TO ME, DAMN IT!” she yelled in exasperation, causing her first mate to stay silent. “You told me I care about nothing else but money, didn’t you? Well, you are wrong; Jonas was wrong. EVERYONE WAS WRONG! I care about my crew, friends, and god damn it, Phineas, I care about you!” The Cloudsurfer swayed violently as gale winds buffeted it, pieces of machinery and metal creaking loudly, and steam hissed as valves ruptured due to the unexpected shift in pressure. “Phineas, please, I don’t want to lose you.”

“And I don’t want to lose you, Rachel.”

“Phineas, I can steer this skyvessel better than anyone. I will land it safely, I promise, but I need you to take everyone to land. Can you do that for me?” she asked, almost begging.

Without hesitation, Phineas uttered, “Aye, captain!”

To herself, Rachel muttered, “Thank you, Phineas.” She returned to the arduous task of steering the Cloudsurfer.

Propelled by its tremendous velocity, the skyvessel pierced through the thunderhead, shaking and rattling as the storm threatened to overturn it. Its increased weight and strengthened propellers helped stabilize the movement, letting Rachel steer the Cloudsurfer towards safety. She took a glance at the instrument panel and saw the barometer shifting madly. No outside pressure readings – I’ll have to land the old-fashioned way. Rachel took a deep breath and released the skyvessel’s front panels.

Ahead of her, she saw a nightmarish scene. There was nothing but utter blackness, occasionally broken through by blinding flashes of lightning. Gritting her teeth, Rachel lowered the nose of the Cloudsurfer. It wasn’t designed for ground landings, but she hoped the rotors could reduce its falling velocity enough to prevent major damage.

“A captain always goes down with her ship,” she muttered. But her train of thoughts was interrupted as Rachel was ripped away from the helm by a strong hand grasping her from behind. She toppled backward, rolling onto the floor of the navigation deck. Standing above her, she saw the multicolored shirt of her latest crewmate. “Emmy, you bastard! You sold us out!”

“I did as I was paid to do, and you ruined it! This was supposed to be an easy job – just call the Terminus Est when you were close to the Dead Continent! But no, we are trapped here in this falling coffin now!” An insane rictus formed on his face as he unholstered a pistol. “But at least I’ll have the satisfaction to take you with me!”

Rachel scoffed. “So brave of you, Emmy.”

“My name is not Emmy! My name is—” His words were interrupted by a tremendous explosion that shook the entire Cloudsurfer.

Rachel felt herself being tossed around the deck, flailing as a ragdoll. Through the crystal panels, she caught sight of the earth rushing towards the skyvessel. She uttered a silent prayer before closing her eyes. God, let Phineas be safe!

***

Everything ached. Every fiber of her body felt bruised and abused, her breathing came difficult, and her head felt woolen. Yet, she lived.

Rachel opened her eyes and slowly regained focus. She was on a narrow corner of the navigation deck – or what was left of it – huddled by a coil of thick rubber hoses. She grimaced as she tried to climb out of her spot, managing to climb onto her shaking legs after a few minutes. Rachel ran a quick triage over herself. Though her entire body was covered in scrapes, cuts, and bruises, nothing was broken.

Rachel sighed in relief and climbed out of the Cloudsurfer through the broken panes, carefully trying not to cut herself on any shard of glass. When she stepped outside, she found herself on a crag carved by the fallen skyvessel. The storm swirled ominously overhead, but no wind or lightning seemed to fall close to her.

She spared a glance at the Cloudsurfer, tears pooling in her eyes. “I’m sorry, girl. I tried to let you land easily,” she said sadly before a low moan caught her attention. Rachel reached for her pistol and longsword, relieved that she had them with her. She unsheathed her gun and walked towards the source of the moan. A grim grin formed on her face as she saw its source.

“Well, would you look at that, Emmy? It seems you survived.” Rachel spat on the ground. “What a shame.”

Her traitorous crewmate was pinned to the floor by a large piece of metal, crushing his right arm. He was surrounded by a pool of congealed blood. “Captain, please,” he begged, wheezing. “Help me!”

“Why should I?” Rachel asked, returning the pistol to its holster. “After what you put my crew and me through, I don’t think so.”

“Please, captain,” Emmy said. “I just followed orders!”

“Oh, you did? Whose orders?”

“Armand Lowenstoft’s!” he revealed.

“I see. Why did he want to capture the Cloudsurfer, considering it seems he commandeers the Terminus Est now?” Rachel inquired.

“He didn’t want your vessel. He wanted you!”

“Me?” she asked, dumbfounded.

“Y-y-yes! He thinks you know t-things about the old-world or something! Please, captain, I don’t want to die!” Emmy pleaded.

Rachel folded her arms, gazing down at him. “There’s no way to lift that plate, Emmy, and your arm’s likely shattered beyond repair. But,” she added grimly, “There may be a way to get you out of there.”

“H-h-how, c-c-captain?”

When Rachel said nothing, Emmy’s eyes widened in horror. “No, you can’t possibly mean—”

Rachel shrugged dismissively. “You will lose the arm anyway. We’d just be expediting the process, and you’d be free to come. Or you can stay and die of blood loss, infection, or exposure. Your choice.”

Emmy nodded shakily, growing even paler as Rachel grinned grimly.

“Attaboy, Emmy.”

The captain removed her belt and knelt beside the man, tying a tight tourniquet around his arm. She tore a piece of fabric off her sleeve, rolled it up, and said, “Bite on this. I don’t want you to bite your tongue off.”

Slowly, Emmy opened his mouth and gripped the cloth with his teeth. Rachel unsheathed her longsword and leaned close to his ear. “This is but a fraction of what you deserve for what you did, Emmy,” she whispered. Feeling a sense of grim satisfaction and empty retribution, Rachel set to exact justice against Emil Pierre du Saint-Germain.

When Rachel was done, and the man succumbed to shock and pain, Rachel dropped her longsword to the ground and buried her face in her hands. Damn it. If the Cloudsurfer suffered like this, what became of Phineas and the rest of my crew? She lifted her eyes to the sky helplessly. But then, a rush of hope filled her as she saw the outline of four landers against the blackness of the storm, slowly descending to safety. A smile formed on her lips. Phineas, you glorious bastard. You did it!

“Agh! Oh, god, my god, captain, this was horrifying,” Emmy groaned weakly before sitting up and lifting the cloth-covered stump of his arm. “I doubt my pay will cover a prosthetic.” He gazed towards Rachel. “What now?”

“Now,” she replied, picking up and sheathing her longsword, “We find my crew.”

“Your crew?” he asked before looking at the landers. “So, they made it, after all. You know the Terminus Est is coming too, don’t you?”

“I’m counting on it,” Rachel said, nodding.

“I see,” Emmy replied curtly. “Why haven’t you killed me?”

Rachel paused. “Because I may need you to wring Armand about. Now, come,” she uttered, starting her way out of the crag. “We have a long way ahead of us.”

She stared at the edge of the crag and took a deep breath. Phineas, she thought, letting out her breath. I’m coming to find you.

Book 3 Sneak Peek

Chapter 1:

Gunfire flew past the lander as it slowly made its way to safety, bullets bouncing off its steel-reinforced hull, missing the vital steam works inside the vehicle. Every jolt of the lander sent spears of pain through Phineas’ wounded ribs, yet nothing compared to his concern over his captain. I left Rachel behind. He peered worriedly through the lander’s hatch, watching the Cloudsurfer as it fell towards the ground. A large-caliber bullet impacted the lander’s hull, jostling it and tearing Phineas away from the hatch, he winced as his ribs stabbed him with agony.

“You alright, first-mate?” Burton asked, holding Phineas’ shoulder.

“Sufficiently alright, Burton, thanks,” he replied, sitting straight on his seat. If anyone can bring the sky vessel to safety, that’s Rachel. He thought, before a loud explosion rattled the lander. Phineas returned to the viewing hatch and his eyes widened in fear. “Oh no, Rachel!”

One of the gas-thrusters on the sky vessel exploded, sending it spiraling out of control. “Damn it! Riker, veer towards the Cloudsurfer, we must –“ He was interrupted by another violent jostling of the lander. “Now what?” He asked exasperated, peering through another hatch. One of the interceptors from the Terminus Est trailed perilously close to the lander, its cannon fire damaging the hull of the vehicle. “We need to shake them off. Milton, Burton!”

“Aye cap’n!” both replied in unison.

“Man the guns. Anselm, Elisa, you act as loaders – keep the lander’s weapons supplied. Riker, go have a seat.”

“First-mate?” the helmsman asked.

Grimly, Phineas replied, “I’m taking the helm.” As Riker stepped out of the cockpit, Phineas limped in, wincing as he strapped its safety belts over his chest. Once he was secure on the pilot’s seat, he took the lander’s crystal-set and said, “Attention all crew – strap in!”

Immediately after he gave the warning, he opened the steam valve to its full extent and increased the throttle of the sphere engine of the lander. Its rotors whirred violently as they increased their speed, and the bird-like wings on either side flapped to maintain altitude. Phineas veered sideways to give Milton and Burton a chance to aim at the incoming interceptors, barreling to prevent being struck by the incoming gunfire. The lander’s hull rattled as the gunners fired at the incoming enemy, narrowly missing it as it barrel-rolled sideways.

Phineas chased after it, facing it through the cockpit’s aiming reticle. The first-mate’s eyes narrowed as he whispered, “Got you.” His thumbs smashed the triggers of the frontal guns of the lander, releasing a hail of lead at the fleeing interceptor. The torrent of fire ripped into the enemy flyer’s rotors, disabling them entirely. A plume of smoke and steam trailed after the interceptor as it plummeted to the ground.

The lander’s gunners fired once again, and through the crystal-set, Milton called, “First mate, enemy at nine o’clock!”

Saying nothing, Phineas veered towards the left, training the lander’s weapons onto an incoming attacker. He opened fire and the automatic cannons of the lander reduced the incoming interceptor to bits and pieces of twisted metal. A rattle tore Phineas’ attention from the aiming reticle. He let out an expletive as steam started hissing in the cockpit, forcing him to quickly lower the pressure valve.

“First-mate, we’re hit!” Riker cried from his seat.

“Damn it, we’re not going to reach Rachel on time.”

“Forget about the captain for now, first-mate, we’re being trailed after at least half a dozen interceptors!”

“Then we must shake them off,” uttered Phineas, and to the crystal-set, he said, “Gunners, return to your seats – we’re about to free-fall.”

A worried Burton exclaimed, “Wait, first-mate! What do you mean –“

Phineas cut off the crystal set before the man voiced his concern. “I meant just what I said,” Phineas whispered before closing the steam valves of the lander and cutting off the throttle. The lateral flappers of the vehicle retracted into its hull, but Phineas kept the steam pressure fed into them as high as possible and his hand on the release trigger. As the rotors whirred down, Phineas tilted the nose of the lander and started diving towards the ground.

The first mate grimaced as he struggled to control the falling apparatus and to Riker he yelled, “Are they gone?”

“Not yet!”

The ground was starting to come close and sweat began beading on Phineas’ forehead. “Now?”

“Not yet, first-mate!”

We’re not going to make it, damn it we’re not going to make it! Phineas’ teeth ached as he clenched his jaw. He felt his stomach threatening to spill and the pain in his ribs intensifying as the lander spiraled towards the ground, and he closed his eyes as he braced for impact.

“THEY’RE GONE!” Riker cried.

Immediately, Phineas pressed the wings’ release and aided by the built-up pressure, they erupted outwards. The first mate pulled on the rudder and felt nauseous as the powerful gravity inside the cockpit threatened to knock him out. The lander stabilized, and though he saw black spots in his sight, Phineas managed to remain conscious. Phineas reclined back on his seat and wiped at his forehead, feeling cold sweat on it. That was too much, he thought, closing his eyes.

“You are mad, first-mate, impossibly mad!” Riker exclaimed, patting Phineas’ shoulder.

“Madness is the spice of life, Riker. And for now, it saved us,” Phineas sighed. “What happened to the Cloudsurfer?” Riker’s expression darkened visibly as he averted his gaze from Phineas. “Helmsman?”

“I saw it crash down, first-mate. It was bad.”

Phineas’ stomach convulsed as he heard the news. Struggling to remain calm, he said, “In that case, we must hit ground and erect a small encampment, then send off a scouting party towards the Cloudsurfer.”

“But it crash-landed, the probabilities of survival are –“

“Don’t tell me the probabilities, Riker. I’m well aware of them, but I... we need closure.”

Riker sighed, saluted and said, “Aye, aye. Captain.”

To be continue…

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About The Author

Tim was born and bred in the Sunshine State of Florida, where I still live today. Growing up when he wasn’t at the beach, I would have lots of adventures in my backyard, mainly trying to survive in the aftermath of an Alien Invasion. Now I spend my days putting my imagination into books, so everyone who wants to, can join me in the world in my head.

When I’m not writing I usually spend my days on the beach or reading with my cat Sleepy.

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