The City in the Sky

“Whitman!“, yelled Windfury, “I want that tether cut, NOW!”

“Aye, Captain”, the gunner’s voice floated back from below decks over the din.

With a loud hiss the ship jerked as the cannon ball severed the line which held the two vessels bound.

“I need full steam!“, Windfury barked. “Aye, Captain!“, replied Reginald who managed to project his reply without sounding like he was shouting.

From across the void could be heard the voice of Granger screaming unintelligible commands, though it became clear soon enough what they were as a chorus of hisses came from the side of the other ship. The volley screamed past the occupants of The Kestrel, occasionally exploding into its wooden surface. Mercifully no one was injured for the moment.

The Clockwork pushed the throttle forward and the ship lurched in response. Jana spun the wheel to the right in an attempt to bring The Kestrel’s starboard side along the bow of the other ship.

Then all hell broke loose.

A volley of shot, gun and cannon, came from both ships. Mulligan felt several shells fly past his person and strike the ship all around him. Holes in the deck bloomed everywhere punctuated by the sound of splintering wood. Benedict was struck and flew to the deck where he lay motionless.

Screams of anger and pain came from both sides, but more so from the deck of The Requiem where the crew was of greater number and more pressed together.

“James, take cover!“, yelled Windfury.

“To hell with that!“, James shot back as he drew his pistol. He adjusted the telescopic lens over his right eye. Fighting desperately to steady himself, he lined up the sights of the weapon on Granger. Fifty yards was a near impossible shot and the current conditions only made it worse. Mulligan swore audibly as he pulled the trigger. The gun hissed and kicked but at the last second one of Granger’s crew ran into the path of the ball and fell to the deck dead. Mulligan dove behind the central support as Granger raised his rifle and returned fire. Windfury took advantage of the distraction and fired the pair of pistols she wielded towards the enemy captain forcing him to seek cover as well.

Though The Kestrel was greatly outnumbered they had already downed half of the other ships crew, Windfury having dropped five of them herself. The cannons had wreaked a great deal of damage to both ships. It was amazing that more of The Kestrel’s crew weren’t dead. From across the distance of the two ships Mulligan could hear the shrill screams of Granger over the noise:

“To hell with the cargo! Sink them! Kill the bitch! Send them all to hell!”

Granger’s remaining crew retrained their weapons on The Kestrel’s dirigible and opened fire.

Ping! Ping! Hiss! Ping!

It sounded like a hailstorm to Mulligan as the lead balls crashed into the metal dirigible occasionally tearing a small hole.

“Jana, how long can we stay aloft like this?!” he yelled.

Windfury ignored the question and instead addressed Whitman, “Gunner, I need a miracle, now!”

Below decks the steam that poured from the hole in the cannons’ main supply line was making conditions almost unbearable. Whitman swore in exasperation, which only deepened when Reg burst through the door.

’What the bloody hell are you doing down here?!“, Whitman spat at the Clockwork. “I need maintenance, not some artie’s bullshit!”

Reginald registered no anger to the gunner’s abuse, rather he calmly said, “Benedict is deeply wounded, so I’m afraid I’m all you’ve got at the moment.”

Whitman swore profusely once more before addressing the Clockwork again. “Do you have any knowledge of pneumatics?“, he inquired disdainfully.

Reg simply nodded.

“We’ve got a major hole in the main supply line. A lucky gunshot most likely. Anyways, it’s robbing the cannons of maximum penetration. Can you fix it?“, rasped Whitman, who’s voice was giving way to fear.

As if to confirm this, the bow of The Kestrel sunk lower. They would most assuredly sink if action was not taken quickly.

Reginald said nothing, but ran to find the perforation in the line. He quickly located it and wrapped it in as much material as he could find. The canvas bandage became saturated and steam and hot water spat out around its edges.

“Try it now!“, said Reginald.

Whitman exhaled fiercely and turned to aim the cannon in front of him at the Requiem’s hull. He sighted the gun towards the lower stern of the ship, where (he hoped) the main boiler would most likely be located and pulled the firing lever.

The cannon hissed and the ball crashed into the enemy’s hull. The whole ship rocked with the impact, but the ball, unable to penetrate the thick timbers, simply bounced off and plummeted towards the black clouds below.

“Godammit, I knew you were worthless!“, yelled the gunner wiping the sweat from his face. The Kestrel shuddered and sank lower.

“I have an idea”, yelled Reg. He ran from one cannon to the next shutting each down, leaving only the one Whitman sat next to operational. He then spun large brass wheel which shut down the active venting system for the ship’s boiler. The needle on the meter shot into the yellow quickly making its way towards the red. He placed a clamp on the the only open gun’s line and fully opened the valve above it.

“You fool!“, exclaimed the dismayed gunner. “Are you trying to kill us all?!”

Reg smiled, his silver eyes gleaming, and said, “You’re just going to have to trust me on this...”

The hose creaked as the pressure above the clamp steadily multiplied. If it wasn’t opened soon, something would surely burst leaving the both of them dead and The Kestrel completely powerless.

Unholy groans began emanating from the boiler then the supply line started jerking spasmodically. Not taking his eyes from the pressure gauge, Reg said with the slightest tremor in his voice, “On my word, fire! And make sure it counts.”

Whitman frowned and once again trained the cannon on his mark. Sweat poured from his forehead. His hands grew slick on the controls. He turned inward, attempting to tune out the chaos around him and focus his ears to hear the one thing that mattered...

“Fire!“, came the Clockwork’s voice clearly as he released the clamp.

The Kestrel rocked with enemy gunfire, but it didn’t matter. Man and machine were one. Whitman closed his eyes and pulled the lever. Only after the hiss did he open them. Seconds that seemed like an eternity passed. Then came the loud CRACK! A hole grew in the side of the large ship out of which spewed an explosion of fire, steam, and debris. The two men stood in awe at what they had wrought and wondered how such an ugly noise could sound better than the most beautiful of music.

They had done it. One of the ship’s boilers had exploded tearing the stern of the ship, propellers and all. Screams of terror came from the now sinking vessel, as its crew held on for dear life or fell to their deaths into the black sea below.

“NO!”

Granger’s wail of anger reached across the void. Windfury adjusted her monocle hoping to catch a glimpse of the anguished face of her nemesis. She finally found him at the bow as he leapt onto a harpoon gun mounted there. A malicious grin contorted his face while he aimed the device as best he could.

“Impossible!“, Winfury said aloud.

“No. Not if they have a secondary boiler, it’s not!“, yelled James who had been watching the sequence of events through his own eyepieces.

Without another word they both aimed their weapons at the madman, but it was too late.

The harpoon sang through the air and collided with The Kestrel’s hull, where it firmly embedded itself. In another second the line grew taut and the stern of the Kestrel began to sink as it was pulled down by the considerable bulk of The Requiem.

Mulligan turned to Jana. She looked at him with eyes wide with fear.

“James, I’m sorry”, was all she said.

The two ships plunged through the sea of clouds which parted to accept them as they went down, down, down till the blackness rushed to close in behind them and all was still.