DeathWatch No. 59 – I Call It Slipping

This is Issue #59 of DeathWatch, an ongoing Serial. Click that link to go find ‘A Beginning’ and read from there, if you need to catch up.

Happy Reading!

PREVIOUS

* * *

The aether, bright and loud before, turned blinding as debris shot out in all directions. Kieron laid over Jules and covered her as electrified shards of The Maxima were tossed like confetti. A wash of light and lightning pulsed over nearly every corner of the sky — Kieron was flung from Jules, and only caught himself in another section of netting, swinging high above the deck — and the Jacob went silent and dark in the heavens.

The ship that was still attached was all but vaporized, and a beam from the main frame impaled a second ship, spearing it out of the sky. A few parachutes were seen, but only a few. The third ship sailed through the sky in a wide, off-kilter circle, its engines also spun down from the lightning.

The wind flapped the canvas and rigging around them, and he held on, looking up toward Jules, watching the remnants of the Maxima plunge out of the sky to land on the farming village below.

“I hope no one else is alive down there. Seems unfair to survive that kind of attack just to die because a pulley came out of the sky,” he yelled up to her. “Jules?” He strained, trying to focus on her face, but it seemed she was staring off into the middle distance, silent and still.

“No — no, no!” he said, climbing up again. His muscles twitched and jagged; the world seemed painted with electricity — each thing he touched seemed to dust him with a fine layer of aetheric residue, and elicited a shock strong enough he saw the flashes behind his eyelids, and kept swearing under his breath — he forced past the way his body wanted to rebel, and hauled himself higher, to get back up to her. “JULES!” he shouted, as he pulled himself up level, and reached to turn her face toward his.

The instant his hand touched her skin, the jolt of electricity from him to her made her entire body arch up in the netting. Her mouth opened wide in a silent scream, wider and wider, and then suddenly she sucked in a long, agonized breath, and sagged down in the netting, panting.

“Jules. Jules!” he said. “Wake up. You have to wake up,” he begged.

There was another ragged intake, and she licked her dry lips and looked around, trying to focus. “The fuck d’joo do?” she panted. “The fuck was that?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t… I don’t know,” he said, his own breath panting, his heart thundering as he pulled his hand back and secured himself in the netting. “Don’t close your eyes again,” he said, half-panicked. “Stay, uh, stay talking to me, okay?”

“Nnnh. What do you want to talk about?” she murmured, frowning. Sparks of static kept swimming about in her red curls; he watched it trail over her skin, a summer sky of heat lightning.

For a moment, he couldn’t think of a single thing to ask her, as her ship burned out of the sky, and her husband lay broken on the deck below. “Tell me, uh. Tell me how you met Sha?”

“M’I dyin, Brody?” she wondered, her gaze gone sharp for a moment, her question as lucid as she could get. “That why you wanna talk?” she asked, her skin so pale, her eyes ringed darkly. “Keep me goin?”

“Probably,” Kieron said, nodding. “You’re bleeding from somewhere I can’t see. I think your heart stopped, a minute ago. I just accidentally struck you with lightning. We’re stuck up here until I know we’re not doing any quick maneuvers. So I need to keep you awake, okay?” He forced a half smile on his face and said, “C’mon, you need to tell me your oral history before you expire so I can make sure the legend of you carries on. I need to know the beginning, Jules, so I’ve got some context to explain to people how you heroically died in a loading net on a yardarm,” he said, reaching up and turning her face to look at him again; she kept trying to look down below, but then her eyes would flutter shut. “Seriously, Jules, don’t close your eyes,” he said, grave, the smile on his face fading.

“You remind me of Nate, when he was young,” she said, and now she was the one wearing a faint smile. “Don’t fuck with me, Brody. Is he okay?”

“I have no idea, Jules. I’m up here with you. Sha’s got him. That’s all I know,” he said, determined not to lie to her, trying not to panic, feeling his own heart skipping beats, erratically thundering in his chest.

“Sha’s got him. That’s okay, then. I met him because of her. I grew up with her. Airforce orphans who decided to get into the family business young. We both got entrance exceptions, her because her father wanted her on his ship, me actually an orphan because my mother and father ended up dead in a borderlands skirmish near the south,” Jules said. “Centralis social services didn’t want to pay for me to eat until I was old enough to get a job, and they outlawed using child labor after the… after…” Her eyes rolled to the whites.

Kieron gave her a shake, and shouted for her again.

She sucked in a breath and opened her eyes wide, panting. “Guh, Brody, I’m gonna die just to get away from you bothering me,” she muttered. “M’cold,” she added. “N’truly, I don’t feel much like dyin today. Don’t let it happen, yeah?”

“Working on it,” he said, looking down over the deck to see how people scrambled far below, trying to get the engines up again. “We’re dead in the water because of the explosion,” he said. “I can’t take you down there yet, if they need to get us moving.”

“S’my fault,” she said dully. “Believed him when he said the aetheris would be a good trade. Didn’t even question him.”

“Abe? You trusted him,” Kieron said. “That’s a good thing.”

“Yeah?” she snorted, sounding tired. “Think so? My ship’s in pieces, n’my crew’s dead,” she said lowly. “Don’t think any of it’s good.”

“Shh,” Kieron said. “Don’t talk. You’re bleeding. It’s a rule.”

“You definitely remind me of Nate,” she said, reaching out a hand and grabbing hold of his, curling her fingers tightly around his.

“Got no idea how good or bad that is, but I–”

Far and below, the engines began to turn; Kieron felt the strange throb of them in his teeth, his eyes. He saw the silverblue dust on his skin whorl in fractals, dividing and dividing and dividing.

His voice felt worlds away as he struggled to keep focusing on Jules. “–I imagine he–” Dizzied, he pulled his hand from hers and struggled to further buckle her into the netting, to make sure she would be secure, especially if he was about to lose himself.

“What’re you doing?” she murmured, looking down at his hands.

The engines spun up, humming keenly, and Kieron stared at Jules for a moment, his pale eyes unfocused, his heart thundering. He felt the peculiarity of slipping stretched out, instead of condensed into an instant.

“What’s happening?” Jules said, looking back up at his face. “What’re you doing?”

Kieron blinked slowly, and slurred, “Slipping. I call it slipping.”

* * *

NEXT

Posted in Deathwatch, Fiction, Serial | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

DeathWatch No. 58 – You’ve Got To Hang On

This is Issue #58 of DeathWatch, an ongoing Serial. Click that link to go find ‘A Beginning’ and read from there, if you need to catch up.

Happy Reading!

PREVIOUS

* * *

The first thing to hit the topmost netting was rolled up in canvas. Rather than tangle in the ropes, it bounced against the main envelope, and on its arc, the canvas flapped loose. A ragdoll body dropped to the next level, nearly missing the netting entirely, but its arm and leg got tangled, and the descent stopped there, with the Jacob’s Quartermaster laying unmoving out over open sky, hammocked in the netting constructed from the fin tips to the tail of the ship.

“Bennett! Li! GET HIM DOWN HERE!” the Captain shouted, even as the second body fell. This one tucked and turned, grunting in pain as she came tumbling past the swell of the envelope and hit only the edge of a top net, then went spinning and was caught up by another net, wheezing as she clutched at the ropes to try to hold still. The Captain called “Brody! Get Jules!” and turned to head for the rail to see if Bennett and Li were having luck getting Nathan.

Kieron already had a rigging harness on and was tying it off when the call came.

“Captain! We have to go, NOW!”

“Three minutes, ‘gator! I got the Quarter on the wing!” She was off and running for the rail already, snapping down the buckles on her harness and threading a line through.

“You don’t have three minutes!” the navigator was insistent, panicked, almost.

“Two minutes!”

“In two fucking minutes, we’re going to be sucking Ilonan cannon, Captain! It’s go now, or every airman on the Jacob dies!” But the Captain of the TS Jacob threw the rope to Bennett, who tied off the end and held the slack while a wide-eyed Li came in off the wing whose gears had engaged, ready to pull in.

“Thirty fucking seconds!” Sha shouted.

“DAMNIT, Captain! Your fucking count is thirty!”

And with that, Sha Onaya jumped, tallcoat and all, for the netting, and her First Mate. Kieron was climbing the rigging, and had almost reached Jules, when he saw her go over.

“Count is twenty!” shouted the navigator.

Kieron lifted himself up onto the netting, where he saw a white-faced Jules clutching the ropes, and braced himself so he could curl her up and bind her, to help lower her back down. “We’ve got you,” he said, shouting over the sound of the wind, and the fire getting louder.

“Nate?” she asked, lifting her head up, looking around.

“With the wing. Captain’s getting him,” Kieron promised her, reaching up to touch her forehead, to gently urge her to lay her head back down.

“Count is ten!”

“On the wing?” Jules said, tensing, trying to sit up. She groaned, wincing, and laid back down, clutching the ropes, panicked. “He’s on the wing? We’re gonna bank. He’s gonna fall!”

“Count is five! Four! Three–”

“Captain!” Jules cried, forgetting she didn’t have Nate’s comm. No one below could hear her. “SHA!” She writhed against Kieron as he struggled to buckle her into a harness.

“I got him! I’ve fucking got him! Pull us in and get us the fuck out of here!” the Captain called. The wing began to pull in, while Bennett and Li hauled the Captain and the Quartermaster back up on deck. The whole ship rocked, turning to the side, and Kieron wove an ankle through the rigging and pulled Jules close, holding on to the yardarm.

“It’s going to get rough,” Kieron said to Jules. “You have to hold still, all right? Sha’s got Nate. They’ll be all right. You stay with me, and we’ll hang on right here while we get away.”

“Fucking Abe,” Jules said muzzily. “Can’t believe he did it,” she said, laying against Kieron. “Locked me in my own fucking cabin,” she said and then she put on her best ‘pretend-Abe’ voice, saying, “Is being done, Yana. No more talking. Just doing.” She switched back to her own voice, mournful, and whispered, “I’ve known that man for half my fucking life. How could he just do…” Her voice trailed off, and she sagged in Kieron’s arms.

Kieron gave her a shake, holding her tight against his body as he clung to the yardarm while the TS Jacob came about and its aether engines spun up. “Hey now. Wake up, Jules. Jules!” he called sharply, looking down at her as she stared off glassily.

“Mmm?” she wondered, lolling her head toward him. “Whattisit, Brody? Ain’t got time t’dance,” she slurred, her skin gone a greenish pale.

“You’ve got to hang on,” he said. “I’m gonna tie us in. No way we can get to the deck before they spin up and get us out of here,” he said, decisive.

The sound of the aether engines spinning up was comforting; they would engage with the props momentarily, and the ship would run — and hopefully, the Ilonan ships would stay back with The Maxima. The Jacob rumbled, and every bit of chain and rigging began to hum; the throb of the engines reached a critical peak, and it began to accelerate away from The Maxima even before it had finished turning.

Not a moment too soon, as massive projectiles began to rocket past The Jacob. The Ilonan ships were firing on them as they reached closer to the Maxima. Kieron watched as, even though the enormous ship was on its way to falling out of the sky, the Ilonan airmen appeared as if they were going to board it.

The Jacob picked up even more speed, and Kieron remembered the Captain telling him (before he knew she was the Captain) that her ship could do ten kliks in three minutes. “Now would be a good time for that,” he said aloud. Another missile keened past them, and two of the airships docked as far from the fire as possible. Soldiers swarmed the deck, while the other ship provided cover, the shining metal and polished wood of its skin gleaming against light of the the blue fire.

They ran about for a bit, perhaps to find salvageable materials, or a Captain to apprehend, or to see if they could fly the ship away from the village, so no other people would die when it came crashing down.

All at once, however, the soldiers filed back to the ships; Kieron watched, his eyes watering in the wind, as they hastily both attempted to uncouple from The Maxima. The covering ship began to pull away from the area — one ship turned away and began to hurriedly fly, while the third was still dealing with its rigging-lock.

And then the Maxima finished what it had begun, and with a howling, rending roar, it tore itself and the ship still attached to it to shreds, pieces of it sailing far and wide.

* * *

NEXT

Posted in Deathwatch, Fiction, Serial | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

DeathWatch No. 57 – Our only chance is outrunning

This is Issue #57 of DeathWatch, an ongoing Serial. Click that link to go find ‘A Beginning’ and read from there, if you need to catch up.

Happy Reading!

PREVIOUS

* * *

“Scramble their signals,” she told the comms crew. “Hana — use whatever you used on the Maxima. Get me time, people. We want our Quartermaster’s wife back, don’t we? And he’d be a bonus,” she said, biting off the words with as much confidence as she could muster. Kieron watched the way she strode the room, checking over the shoulders of her crew, a hand on them now and then, to let them know she was there. Beside them. “Jules! Are you moving yet?”

“Yep,” Jules said, sounding giddy, or perhaps just half delirious, shouting from far off. “My boy here’s a fucking drag, though. You sure you need me to bring him?”

The Captain drew a shaky breath and said, “If it’s just to bury him, we can mourn him with the Maxima. But if he’s breathing, see if you can get him up.”

Jules voice became clearer, suddenly, and Kieron had a sudden picture in his head — she was dragging him along, talking aloud, but when she got down to deal with him, her lips were near the comm device. Her heavy, pained breathing could be heard, out of breath and gasping. “Hey,” she said, sounding sweet. “Hey, you. Hey you, Nate,” she said, choking on irrational laughter. “Baby, it’s time to get up. You gotta get up, because I can’t get you up the stairs, okay? Don’t leave–” And here, Kieron could feel his eyes sting with sudden tears as her voice broke. “–don’t you leave me, little bird. C’mon.”

The sounds then were of determination. Force. Sheer will.

Time dragged on, sped up, and those in the comms room stared at the screens and waited to hear about the incoming Ilonan ships.

Jules could be heard swearing softly, and the sound of distant shouting was growing closer.

“Come on you fuck,” she shouted at one point, sounding exhausted. “Stop bleeding and walk!”

Then came the sound of a slap, hard and ringing.

A wheezed groan shuddered through the comm, and Nate’s voice was only a slurred mumble.

Hana said, “Three Ilonan ships. Evorsor-class. Our only chance is outrunning.”

Jules’ voice came through clear again, the sound of her straining against something.

Silence, for a few moments, listening to the sound of Jules breathing heavily, and the groan of the ship.

Then came steps. Boots on boards. Jules’s thicknailed soles, the ones that clicked, when she walked, but sounding impossibly heavy. Boots on boards, going up stairs. Unsteady steps, an aching eternity of them, and then the roar of the ship was suddenly less muffled.

“Port?” Jules asked, her voice a thready whisper. “You gotta catch us, Sha. I can’t rappel. No time. Not enough strength.”

“We’re under you, yeah, port,” Sha said, pacing back and forth, her heart in her throat for all the fear in the room. “I’ll catch you, Jules. With my own fucking hands, if I gotta.” She grabbed a device on the same channel and ran out, to head up. “Brody, with me.”

Kieron followed her, breathing heavily, sweating in his light uniform shirt, hurrying along, heart in his throat, ready to stand on the deck and just… hold out his arms, if that’s what it took.

“Jules, you gotta… you gotta get as much of a running start as you can so you clear your rail and ours. We’re almost rigging-locked with you, but the fire’s getting too close. Boatswain! get the technics to put out the fins and every net we got — canvas the rigging. Break every bone in his body if you gotta, but get ’em on the ship. Surgeon can fix ’em afterwards, so long as they’re breathing when we get ’em!” Sha shouted, calling out orders, running to handle ropes herself, doing anything and everything she could to feel like she could affect the outcome one way or another. “Brody, you check every fucking knot and then doublecheck!”

From somewhere far above, the roar of the fire redoubled, and there was a horrifying shriek of rending metal, the cracklesnap of splintering wood.

A massive piece of the Maxima’s keel fell, dropping right past the Jacob, raging blue fire singing out of the sky, plunging down to the blackened farmland below. With it, tumbled several crewmembers, airmen who had already been dead for some time, burned beyond recognition, bodies tumbling out of the heavens, cast down from on high, muscles still jerking from the electric current of the fire, their mouths open in silent song all the way down.

Kieron moved faster than he ever had, quiet, determined. Nate and Jules were just going to fall out of the sky, and hopefully land within the rigging nets and canvas. He knew it had to stretch to accommodate them, but not be loose enough that they could fall through. He and the technics shouted back and forth, tossing lines and running pulleys that stretched out as far as possible. They didn’t want to catch any falling pieces of the Maxima, but they wanted to catch Jules and Nate — had to catch Jules and Nate.

Had to.

“Captain! We can not stay here long,” came a cry over the com. The navigator’s voice sounded worried, rushed.

“Aye, ‘gator, we know!” answered the Captain.

“The wind’s changing. The fire’ll get our sails and main envelope if we don’t get moving!” he cried.

“I hear you!” Sha called.

“Sha! There’s fucking Ilonans in the sky!” Jules shouted down.

“Well if I’d known you were inviting them, I never would’ve come to your stupid party!” the Captain yelled back.

“Maybe we should get out of here and let them have it, huh?”

“Sounds good to me! Get your asses over here!”

“Here goes nothing!” called Jules, and then came the sound of her whistling through the air — Nate’s comm device was still open, shrieking in the wind as their bodies fell from the Maxima.

Only a few seconds —

–but they seemed to Kieron like the longest seconds in the world.

* * *

NEXT

Posted in Deathwatch, Fiction, Serial | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

But Once, Years Ago

You are the taste of vomit
on the back of my tongue;

the peculiar sour sting
I must gag upon

as I go through life,
choked to be constantly reminded

that I am all of nauseousness,
that I make you sick,

that I disgust you.
You told me this but once,

years ago,
but I have never since

been able to spit it up
or swallow it down.

Posted in Poetry | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

Put Me

Put me in the ground
if you must;
my body is already rotten.

Put me in the furnace
if you like,
and then put my ashes
on the mantle.

I was already at eye-height,
but now you will never
look at me again,
even if it means you never
lift your eyes
from the ground, or never
bring them back down
from the heavens.

Put me on a bier,
and light a fire;

I am not really here —
I have been gone
for a very long time.

Posted in Poetry | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment