The Children of the Sky

Nevil glared back, but after a moment gave an angry shrug. He looked around, probably for some thug to drag her off. Alas for Nevil, they were all still busy. If she could just get a little closer to him.… Concentrate on Nevil. She turned away from the nightmare at the other end of the stage and walked casually toward him.

“Stay back!” Nevil hissed at her. His gaze swiveled back and forth between Tycoon and Ravna. He was waiting for some kind of signal; till then—well, it was fortunate for him that the crowd couldn’t hear him now. Nevil was rattled. “You bitch. You suppressed everything Straumer. Even the fools who love you puke at what you believe.” He nodded in the direction of Tycoon. “If you hadn’t kept dividing us kids, I wouldn’t be allied with these barbarians. Because of you, even more people may have to die. Now stay back or I will burn you down!”

Across the stage, Johanna had risen to her knees. Blood stained her sleeves; four pairs of jaws hovered near her throat. The charred book lay on the ground right ahead of her knees. Two of Tycoon had opened it and a third was reading the text—a classic Tinish posture. A fourth snout tapped at the text while the rest beat questions down upon her.

What is that book anyway? thought Ravna.

Johanna seemed to know. Her head came down and she pointed into the manuscript, then gently raised a page and pointed at something beneath. The ones holding the book looked up at her, and the rest of the creature’s heads came together around Jo’s face.

Flenser and Woodcarver had crept off their perches, but Tycoon hissed them into silence. Zek paced anxiously just outside that same threat zone. Shrouded in his radio cloak, Zek must be hearing even less than Woodcarver and Flenser. He turned away from Tycoon and ran—staggered—back toward Nevil and Ravna. He cringed as if from invisible blows and collapsed at Nevil’s feet. “I can’t hear what Tycoon is saying,” he said. This was Vendacious talking, but the communication channel was in such pain that the voice stretched across several octaves, almost unintelligible. “You tell me what they are saying!”

“Huh? I can’t get near enough to hear.” Apparently Nevil didn’t know how to use the HUD for such snooping.

Maybe Vendacious realized that; his voice became a fraction calmer, but full of crazy surmise: “You. Ravna animal. You always were the smarter. Show Nevil how. Tell me what they are saying. Stop this or I’ll kill Amdi, first one piece then all the rest—where you can see.”

Zek writhed in pain on the deck before them, one small singleton relaying terrible threats. Nevil stepped back from the creature, uncertain.

It was the best chance Ravna was going to get. She took three paces toward Nevil and launched herself at him. As a physical attack, the collision was pitiful, but she held on, shouting into his face: “Ship! Usurp, usurp!”

Nevil’s fists punched into her, sending her flying back. The crash hurt as much as the fists, and for a moment she couldn’t breathe. She looked up. Nevil was pointing at her, mumbling to himself. Nothing happened. Nevil jabbed his hand again.

And still Ravna lived. Oobii would be paying close attention now. She struggled for breath, finally gasped out, “Ship! Delete all Nevil authority. Delete—”

As she spoke, Nevil’s eyes went wide. Now he was ground zero. He scrambled back, then turned and ran down a backstage stairway, out of Ravna’s sight—and Oobii’s.

She crawled over to Zek. Ritl was nosing around him, licking his face. Zek rolled onto his belly; he was trying to arrange his cloak properly. Words popped into Ravna’s mouth, anything to satisfy the monster: “Okay, Vendacious. Tell me what you want to hear—”

She heard a strange sound, a low, broad moan. From the crowd. Ravna looked out, saw human and Tinish heads looking in a single direction. Not at Ravna. Not at the jumble that was Johanna and Tycoon. They were looking into the sky.

She swung around to stare at the airship. Something small and dark was falling from it. A living thing, flailing. A pack member, perhaps slightly overweight. The member fell and fell and fell, surely still alive. It disappeared from view behind the top of the stage.

Ravna looked down at Zek. “Why?” she said. “You didn’t give me a chance!”

Zek looked up, his head weaving almost blindly. His whole body was twitching. He gobbled chords she could not understand.

“Hei!” Ravna cried. “I’m doing what you want. Don’t kill any more of Amdi!”

She ran across the stage toward Tycoon. Amdi was eight—had been eight. He could still be mostly the same person at seven.

There were scattered shouts. In the sky above, she saw a second body, dressed like the first, drop away from the airship. Its legs pumped as it fell, as if it was fighting for traction.