Star Winds

“There! I knew it!” exclaimed a tall thin man. “One of us is lying!”

“Be quiet, Druro,” said a somewhat fat merchant named Gawing, more amiable looking than the rest He turned to Gebeth. “What is the name of this merchant? He must have mentioned it.”

“No, he did not,” answered Gebeth with a shake of his head. “Indeed he seemed circumspect about the matter—with good reason I am beginning to think, seeing the attitude of you gentlemen.”

“It must be from one of us!” Druro insisted. “Where else would he get it? We already know the other owner-captains scorn Zhorga’s scheme.”

“I am puzzled,” said Gebeth. “Why do you object to this enterprise? What would be the harm in lending Zhorga sail—apart from the risk of losing it, of course.”

“We recognized some time ago that the air trade is over,” Hevesum explained brusquely. “And having laid other plans, we would prefer to keep it that way. Most of us are heavily committed to the building of sea-ships at Umbuicour.” With a sudden movement he produced a small velvet bag tied with a cord. “It would be easy enough for you to ensure the failure of the expedition. A mistake on your charts, perhaps. Here is enough money to make it worth your while.” The bag chinked as he tossed it to the table.

“That would not be ethical,” Gebeth said. “And since a friend of mine is to be on board, I do not want the expedition to fail.”

The merchants fell to arguing among themselves, for the most part accusing one another of reneging. Finally Gawing raised his hands.

“Silence, gentlemen, silence! Let us think calmly about it for once. Tell me, what chance has Zhorga of success?”

“None at all!” snapped Druro. “Not a hope!” And others added their agreement.

“That is my opinion also,” Gawing replied. “So what are we worried about? Zhorga offers no threat—on the contrary, his failure will discourage others. We are exerting ourselves over nothing.”

“But where is he getting his sail?” Hevesum insisted.

“I will give you the complete answer: it is that Zhorga is a lunatic. He does not have any sail, beyond his pitiful rags, and he is not going to get any. Would any of us give it to him?” Gawing looked from one to the other. “Of course not! We are not fools. And the Wandering Queen will not even reach the stratosphere, let alone Mars.”

Gebeth was ignored as the quarreling merchants discussed this aspect of the affair. Finally they left the house and he heard the sound of carriages drawing away.

For some time he sat pondering what he had just heard.

***

Although he mentioned the merchants’ visit to Rachad neither of them succeeded in discussing the question with Zhorga, who became increasingly intractable on the subject. On the eve of the planned day of departure Zhorga announced that the ship, fully provisioned and fitted out, would sail on schedule the next day.

“But Captain,” Rachad asked in a low tone later, “what of the sail?”

“It will be here,” Zhorga answered briefly.

Many others of the crew were as mystified as he. That night Zhorga forbade anyone to leave the ship but instead sent out for some kegs of ale which was drunk without much merriment. Rachad settled down to sleep early, but throughout the night his rest was interrupted by thumps, shouts and bellows as Zhorga and the mate apprehended those who were trying to sneak over the side.

Dawn broke clear and bright. The ship ground stirred and seemed to shake itself, this being the hour of departure. Zhorga came from his cabin and gave orders to Clabert, whose voice then rang out over the Wandering Queen.

“We are taking off now? Without sail?” asked Rachad, joining Zhorga on the quarterdeck. His expression changed from puzzlement to despair as he began to doubt the man’s sanity.

Whatever the Captain might have replied was lost for the familiar unearthly shrieking smote them all as the first ships to depart put out ether sail. Along with the others Rachad plugged his ears. Then he turned to watch with wonderment the sudden blossoming of pale blue sail, the miracle as big ships lifted off the ground and went streaming away with the sun behind them.

Now the Wandering Queen added herself to the dawn migration. A new shriek penetrated Rachad’s eardrums as hands hauled on windlasses and the yards drew up Captain Zhorga’s patchwork sails. A shudder ran through the frame of the ship. There was a groaning and creaking of timbers as futtocks, ribs and wales braced themselves to take the strain; and then the ether, the most powerful force known to man, more invisible than the wind and ungraspable by hand or eye, caught hold of the galleon and lifted her into the air. There was a jarring bump as she fell back a moment or two later, but the second time she surged free and up. Soon the panorama of the ship ground was below her. She entered the great avenue by which the vessels gained the open skies.