was in a similar state, his eyes wide and shining with the reflection of the sky. “So… what do we do now?”
“We pick one.”
We let Chaz pick. He chose the closest, easiest landing spot, a massive floater I recognized as Mallentis, home to the twin cities Hibantya and Eulaya. Each city sat high up on its own plateau, the two joined together by a series of colossal steel bridges that spanned the canyon running between them. We got bluewave clearance from the crow’s nest and touched down in the wide valley that ran out from the canyon like a river delta, a grassy field strewn with airships.
Travelers too poor to afford accommodations in the cities were camped out at their ships, chatting and carrying on like the attendees of some big peace festival for land-huggers. Multi-bagged helium dirigibles sat beside sleek hoverships and small, lightbulb-shaped hot air balloons with brightly-colored skins. There were sleek streamboats of every size, copters and prop planes, and even a few gliders. The Secant’s Clarity looked like a greasy rag in a sea of silk robes, its hull sundered, its plain envelope sagging over the two ballonets within.
“Someone should stay with the ship,” I suggested, after we’d secured the mooring lines and located the hole where the crossbow quarrel had pierced the skin of the balloon.
“I’ll go with you,” said Vilaris. “Gareth and Chester should stay here and get some rest. Stay on the bluewave, Gareth. And be sure to listen in on Muller’s sub-signal, too.”
Neither of the men objected, so Vilaris and I made our way toward the canyon as the afternoon shadows lengthened on the cliffs. A set of elevators ran up each side, bullets of gleaming brass rocketing hundreds of feet through open shafts lined with pulsing blue lights. The elevators on the left took passengers to Hibantya; the ones on the right, to Eulaya.
“Which way?” asked Vilaris.
“Depends. You want to buy a streamboat or rent one?”
“What’s the difference, price-wise?”
“That’s like asking how much food costs. How much of it do you want? What kind? Do you want to wash your own dishes? There’s no simple answer unless you can be more specific.”
“We charter a fifty-foot ship, complete with captain and crew. Or we buy that same ship and hire each crewmember separately. How much of a difference are we talking?”
“Okay… roughly? About a year’s salary. Now, if it takes us longer than a week or two to find Gilfoyle, your rental costs go up. And this is all assuming we don’t let slip that you three are… who you are. It costs extra to keep mouths quiet, you know.”
“Right. So you know some people? Some sailors, I mean? What do you recommend?”
“I say we go both ways. That sounds bad—let me explain. Eulaya is where the rich folks live. The smaller of the two cities, the less crowded, and the more exclusive. Anybody who owns a streamboat worth buying will be there. Once we have our boat, we cross over to Hibantya and round up a crew of the most despicable, cutthroat sailors we can find. And we put an ear to the ground for information about Gilfoyle’s whereabouts while we’re at it.”
We veered to the right at the edge of the airfield, where a handful of gypsies was dancing around a raging pit fire, while a dozen more sat in the shadows of their airships looking on.
Vilaris gave the gypsies a wide berth. “I hope you don’t plan on hiring anyone too despicable. No… pirates, or anything.”
I scoffed. “Pirates. What is a pirate, really? You’ve never stolen anything in your life? You might be a pirate, for all I know.”
“If having stolen something were the only criterion, most people would be pirates. You, especially.”
“I beg your pardon,” I said. “I prefer to think of myself as a commodities appropriation and merchandising specialist.”
“Isn’t that the same thing?”
I shook my head. “Pirates steal for glory and adventure. I steal for no reason at all, and regardless of whether it’s necessary.”
Vilaris rolled his eyes.
We approached the elevators that would take us up to Eulaya. A squad of green-clad customs officers stood by, processing the tourists, merchants, and cargo shipments that were coming and going. The narrow canyon was filled with them; crowds of people and their wagons and carts carrying all manner of trade goods and supplies. We waited in what passed for a line while the sun began to throw rays of pink and orange across the clouds. Soon one of the officers, a tall thin man in a stiff green suit, stepped toward us with a clipboard and pen in his hands.
“Welcome to Mallentis, gentlemen,” said the man. “Are you citizens or visitors?”
“We’re all citizens of the world, aren’t we, my good man,” I said. “Say, how tall are these cliffs, here?”
“On this side, close to three-hundred feet. On the Hibantya side, a little over two-hundred. Now—”
“The easier for the haves to look down on the have-nots, eh? Which side do you live on? You’re a Hibantyan, I’ll bet.”
“That’s right. Now, sir, I need—”
“I knew it. A man of the people. I figured on that the second I saw you. What’s your name, old chap?”
“Andrew Partridge,” was all I gave the officer time to say.
“Andrew… Hal Nordstrom.” I took Andrew’s clipboard and shook the hand that had been holding it. “Pleased to meet you. Heavens bless men like you, who work so hard to keep this place organized and on the level for the upstanding businessmen of the world. Thank you so very much for your service. Say, we’re in need of a little help. Would you be so kind?”
“Certainly, but first—”
I handed him the clipboard without stopping to take a breath. “We’ll be wanting a quick bite and some rousing conversation. Do you know a place that can offer us both? Cost is no object. My friend here is a moneyed man.” I prodded Vilaris with an elbow. “Not a working stiff like you and me. Truth be told, I can’t stand the fellow. Wretched man. Wouldn’t know a hard day’s work if it slapped him in the face. Look at him. Can’t you see it in the way he carries himself? He puts on airs, what with the shaggy beard and unwashed appearance. And yet, do you see how new these clothes are? Exactly the way a wealthy man would disguise himself. Any suggestions for a lively place where this deplorable creature and I might dine this evening, Andrew, old friend?”
“There’s the Crescent Restaurant, The Hart’s Antlers, and the Cliffline Resort. Those are where I’d go if money were no object. But sir, please—”
“That’s very kind of you, Andrew. Now don’t misjudge me: I myself am guilty of having come into a little extra coin every now and then, but every chip of it is thanks to a generous helping of hard, honest work. If we weren’t only passing through for the night to pick up a few supplies for the voyage home, and you weren’t otherwise engaged, I’d offer to take you with us in thanks for your dedication to the safety of Mallentis. That’ll have to wait for next time, however. We’ll be sure to call on you when we’re in town again. You can show us the sights, and we’ll show you a good time. How does that sound?” I turned to Vilaris. “Be sure to give Andrew here a generous tip, will you, you wealthy son of a gun?”
I began to move past Andrew toward the elevators. He had been scribbling on his clipboard as I talked.
“Uh, sir… Hal. Mr. Nordstrom,” said Andrew, following me. “Where did you say home was?”
I hesitated. “Bannock. Little island that keeps a low altitude, a distance downstream from here.”
“Ah, yes. I know the place,” Andrew said, scribbling.
“You’ve been there?” I said with excitement. “Oh, splendid. Quaint little drift-town, Bannock, isn’t it? Lovely all the time.” When I turned around, Vilaris was giving me his dirtiest look yet as he dug a hand into his pocket.
“No, I’ve never been,” said Andrew. “I only know it by name. And what do you do for a living there in Bannock, Mr. Nordstrom?”
“I’m in the business of moving things from one place to another, Andrew, my boy. I take them where they need to go, and th
e people who own them reward me for having done so. Tell you more about it next time, ‘ey ol’ buddy? Now, will you still be down here about three hours from now?”
“My shift ends at eight o’clock,” said Andrew.
“Very good,” I said. “We might even run into one another again before the day’s out.”
“We may well,” said Andrew. “Now if you please, may I have this gentleman’s name and information as well?”
“Lincoln Putch,” I said. “One of my investors. Terrible fellow, really. If I were you, I’d lock him up for no other reason than the dour looks he’ll give a man from time to time. See, there’s one of them now. Good thing these decisions aren’t up to me, I dare say. Best leave that to the professionals, eh? For you and your like, Andrew, there is no end to my admiration.”
Vilaris handed Andrew a small fold of chips, which he accepted with a nod of thanks.
“Now then,” I said. “Which elevator is ours?”
Andrew smiled. “Right this way, Mr. Nordstrom.”
When the doors slid shut and the ground began to pull away from us, a wave of relief washed over me. We made it into the city, I thought. Next comes the hard part. The blue lights flitted by as we shot upward, reflected in the elevator’s plate glass windows. Spots of yellow-orange flame smoldered in the valley below, torches and campfires underscored by the growing dusk. The airships that had been so large when we stood next to them became no larger than toys; the people, no