Paragaea by Chris Roberson Page B

of the gondola, and even through their thick, layered coats the quartet shivered in the stiff breeze. Above them curved the envelope of the airship's main body, its shape held rigid by the pressure of the ballonets within and the curved spine of the rigid keel. At this pressure height, the majority of the envelope was filled with helium, the air-filled ballonets normally used to control trim now deflated to their smallest circumference. The enginenacelles on either side of the passenger gondola hummed away, their screws turning, propelling the Rukh ahead as fast as a horse at gallop.
    Stretched out below them like an immense quilt were cultivated farms, the rotated crops alternating green, tan, and brown like the game board for some unknown variant of chess. Vorin pointed to starboard, where the Inner Sea was just visible over the eastern horizon, and said a few words. Leena recognized the word for “water” in the Sakrian dialect. When Vorin pointed to the port side, and the Rim Mountains barely visible in the far distant west, Leena understood the word for “majesty” or one of its cognates, and something that sounded like the term for “wings.” She was surprised, not having imagined the well-fed businessman as a poetic soul.
    Balam began to growl, and Vorin backed away, becoming alarmed. Leena realized it was not poesy that gripped him, but fear.
    Approaching from the west were large creatures on leathery wings, with long vicious beaks, and bony crests atop their narrow heads. Each was nearly twelve meters from wing tip to wing tip, and carried on its back one or two men, wearing goggles and wide-brimmed hats, with heavy scarves wrapped around their heads from neck to nose.
    â€œSky Raiders,” Balam rumbled, unsheathing his claws, amber eyes narrowing.
    â€œDragons,” Hieronymus said, hands tightening into white-knuckled fists at his side.
    Leena had heard tavern talk about the men and women called Sky Raiders, but had dismissed it as the kind of stories one shared over spirits and wine. Evidently they were real, but she knew these were no dragons. These were pterosaurs, extinct on Earth since the age of the dinosaurs, but through ill fortune still surviving here on Paragaea into the age of man. She'd never imagined they could grow so large, but she'd learned that few things in this place were as she would have imagined.
    Hieronymus turned from the railing, all his acrophobia forgotten.
    â€œWe'll need our weapons,” he said, his tone clipped.
    â€œLocked in a secured locker in the control gondola,” Balam answered, his eyes fixed on the approaching pterosaurs. They were drawing nearer, perhaps just minutes away.
    â€œI'll take care of that,” Hieronymus said. “Little sister, get our employer to safety.”
    Leena nodded, and took Vorin by the right hand, his left clutching the leather case. She didn't bother to mutter soothing words or platitudes. There simply wasn't time.

    Leena led Jophar Vorin into the control gondola, past crewmen who bustled past them, their attention solely focused on their duties. Vorin would not be safe in the passenger gondola or the crew areas. The ship would simply be too dangerous once the Sky Raider boarding party had come aboard, even if the crew were ultimately successful in repelling the attack. Vorin's best chance was to safely wait out the attack, hidden away and secure.
    Leena had paid careful attention as they'd boarded the Rukh the previous morning. She'd lost too many friends on launchpads and in flight to ever climb aboard any sort of plane, rocket, or aerostat without knowing all the contingencies. She led Vorin in a beeline to a side room off the main passageway, and opened the hatch overhead. A rope ladder unspooled, from the ceiling to their feet.
    â€œVlezt',” Leena said in Russian, then quickly added in English, “Climb!”
    Vorin looked at her, nervous and confused.
    Leena pointed up towards the