Driftmetal by J.C. Staudt Page A

us.”
    Vilaris ran a hand through his hair. In the
moonlight, I could see a sheen of sweat glistening on his forehead.
“We loaded the Clarity with enough food to last us three
weeks. Chaz has all kinds of tools and tech stuffed away in there,
too. I don’t see a reason not to bring a little of it, if we can.
The ship is further out, fifty yards or so from the aft edge of
Mallentis. That way.” He pointed.
    Blaylocke grabbed my arm. “Get inside. Clint, you
too. Cops are coming.”
    We hurried down the stairs and into the ship. When I
glanced back, Blaylocke was standing on deck with his hands at his
sides, fists clenched, taking a deep, calming breath. Chaz was
hunkered down in the stairwell, staying out of sight. My fate is
now in the hands of a guy who hates my guts , I realized.
    The furnace room was still warm when Vilaris and I
entered. The new coals were glowing red above a layer of white
powder, and there was a burning plastic smell in the air.
    “What is that?” Vilaris said, wrinkling his
nose.
    I changed the subject. “This couldn’t get much
worse, could it?” I said. “I’m sorry for being a wanted man. This
is more trouble than you deserve.”
    “Gareth won’t give us away,” Vilaris said. “There
are times when his being uptight isn’t such a bad thing.”
    Muffled voices came from above, reverberating along
the rafters. A smooth, no-nonsense cop’s voice. Blaylocke’s
cocksure drone. Another cop. Blaylocke again. “You’re welcome,
officers. I’ll be sure to let you know if I see anything.”
    “This is bad,” I said.
    “It sounds like they’re going away,” said
Vilaris.
    “They want us to think so. No cop gives up that
easily. That customs officer by the elevators recognized me on
sight. There must be posters of me floating around all over the
place. A reward for my capture, maybe. What would be worse is if
some officer up there thinks he hit you with one of those pulser
rounds and you didn’t fall down. Either they’ll think you’ve got
some sweet new tech that protects your whole body from pulsers, or
they’ll figure out you’re a primie.”
    Vilaris’s face hardened. “Okay, screw the supplies.
Let’s just lock up what we can and come back for it later.”
    “No arguments here.”
    Chaz was still crouched in the stairwell when I
opened the door, clutching the bag he’d packed. Blaylocke was
standing on deck, stiff and unmoving, his back to us.
    Chaz looked as scared as I’d ever seen him. More
scared than the day I met him, right after he’d found out I was a
murderer. “Gareth told the officers he was waiting for his
shipmates to get back with food. Said he’d keep an eye out for any
suspicious characters that came by.”
    “Why are you hiding?” I asked.
    “In case we had to run.”
    “We do,” I said. “Those cops aren’t gonna give up
until they find me.”
    “I know,” Chaz said. “They’re still standing right
there. They’re on the bluewave, talking to headquarters about
something.”
    We listened.
    The cop was talking in that smug, cavalier way
law-lovers so often do. “… airship, approximately thirty feet, lone
passenger says he has shipmates who have not returned. Refuses to
allow us to search the vessel. Asking permission to board.”
    We all heard it. We exchanged looks.
    “We have to go now,” I said. “The hole in the side
of the hull is our only way out from belowdecks.”
    Vilaris stopped me. “What about Gareth?”
    What about him? I wanted to say. I thought
for a moment. “How many cops are there, Chaz?”
    “Two.”
    “Vilaris… go down and throw a big pile of coals in
the furnace. The Clarity is taking off… one last time. Meet
us in the control capsule.”
    I can only imagine how surprised Blaylocke must’ve
been a minute or two later when the deck lurched beneath his feet.
I was busy below, opening the ballonet valves and cranking the
engines to full vertical. I hopped off my chair and grabbed my pack
as I felt the