Fire!

Schöneluft Log, 1900.07.05

Ulrik Manfred Adler, acting Captain

I aimed back at him and fired. A sizzling orange ball of lightening fell in front of him, distracting him. His arrow flew wild and the lightening ball darted after it. I rolled into the passageway, grabbing Chef by the ankle and pulling him down. The arrow exploded. Flaming shrapnel splintered the wood paneling above us. I felt a burning in my left leg.

I stuck my head out the hatch to survey the damage. The envelope was ripped in half a dozen places, and still they were coming. And so was more lightening.

The next ball was a pale yellow, difficult to see. Something touchied my leg; I kicked out.

“Mon Dieu! Hold still, mon brave bête, you are bleeding!”

“You had better repair the envelope and leave me alone!” I rolled back to firing position, but stopped kicking while he bandaged my leg.

I had lost sight of the pale yellow lightening ball, but the Mongols gave me plenty to worry about. The next was upon us, two more following in the same draft. We were still moving up, which worked to my advantage. The riders’ Wings block them from shooting above their heads. As soon as I squeezed the trigger, an explosion rocked the ship. I killed him, but he had already loosed a deadly load.

Aiming for the next rider, I could not check for the damage done, but heard a string of Gallic curses behind me. The Galley, then. I took my shot; missed. Reload, aim again. A loud fzzap! I miss. A sizzling red ball hovered by the Generator, nearly a foot across and spitting sparks. I know it’s only electricity, but it had a baleful look, and I could not help but think it was considering its options.

I heard a rattling and banging off to my right. I should never have taken my eyes off the lightening ball, but curiosity ruled me and I looked. Through the cloudy mica windows I saw Chef tearing down the narrow stairs into the flaming galley. I think I screamed at him to stop, to come back, that I would jettison the galley whether he was on it or not, but he could not hear me, did not stop. There was a glow from the galley windows but no flame visible yet. I could afford him a minute or two, but I could not let the fire spread to the rest of the ship. I would have to jettison the galley.

I searched the sky for the red lightening ball. Gone! It might have dissipated, fallen to earth, or plunged into the envelope, heading for a gas ball or the engines to destroy us.

Two Wings soared below, searching for the draft that would bring them up to attack us again. Just east of me, the Khan’s airship launched a dozen Wings, then another dozen. I could hear my own heart, and feel the pulse of it throb in my wounded leg. I was panicking, and fought for self-control. The Khan’s ship rose up, pursuing the Schöneluft. The War Wings were both fighting troops and living ballast.

I fumbled for my monocular to look more closely at the enemy airship. The War Wing apparatus were suspended from underneath the wooden deck. They could be retrieved for the next rider using a simple pulley system. A handful of men bustled on the fighting platform around a central structure. I couldn’t tell what they were up to.

I looked down at the flock of War Wings circling, searching for a current to bring them up to kill us. Vultures, I thought. Hawks and eagles hunt alone; these are vultures. I looked back to the Galley, dread in my heart. Chef saved my life not an hour earlier. Could I bring myself to cut the Galley loose? To send him plunging to his death?

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Photo by Fir0002 (Own work) [GFDL 1.2 (www.gnu.org/licenses/old-licenses/fdl-1.2.html)], via Wikimedia Commons