The expected acceleration didn't come. The boom of ignition was far feebler than Frey was used to hearing. At first the Ketty Jay didn't move at all, struggling to shift her own weight. When she began to push forward, it was like moving through treacle. The clearing full of angry villagers slid away beneath them, but not half as fast as Frey would have liked.
'Silo wasn't joking about the engines,' he murmured.
'You ever heard him joke about anything?'
'Suppose not.' He leaned back in his seat and bellowed out the cockpit door. 'Malvery! Get up here!'
The Ketty Jay was picking up speed, but far too slowly. There was a silver earcuff lying in an ashtray set into the brass and chrome dash, between the dials and meters. He snatched it up and clipped it to the back of his ear.
'Harkins. Pinn. Can you hear me?'
'Yes, Cap'n, I'm, er, you startled me a bit, I mean, loud and, erm, I can hear you, yes,' came Harkin's babbled reply.
It sounded as if he was standing right next to Frey, instead of sitting in his cockpit fifty metres away. He was wearing an earcuff of his own, as was Pinn. When one of them spoke, the others could hear what they said. It was one of Crake's little tricks. Sometimes having a daemonist on board came in handy.
'What's up with the Ketty Jay?' asked Pinn. 'Her thrusters are barely lit. Might as well strap a gas stove to her arse for all the acceleration you're getting.'
'Technical difficulties,' Frey replied. 'We've got incoming craft. They've a couple of rifles, that's all. No real danger, but the Ketty Jay isn't going to outpace them till she builds up speed. Keep them off me as best you can.'
'I'll keep them off you, alright,' Pinn said eagerly. 'I'll—'
'And don't shoot them down. I don't want them madder than they already are.'
'We can't shoot them down?' Pinn cried. 'What are we supposed to do? Hypnotise them with fancy flying?'
'It's a bunch of cropdusters and mail planes, Pinn,' Frey told him. 'They're not much of a threat, and I could do without the Navy coming after us. We've managed to stay beneath their notice since the whole Retribution Falls thing. I'd like to keep it that way. Let's keep the needless slaughter to a minimum, eh?'
'You, Cap'n, are a pussy,' said Pinn.
'And you're scared of water.'
'He's scared of water?' Harkins crowed eagerly.
'Don't you start, you jittery old git!' Pinn snapped. 'You're scared of everything.'
'Not water, though,' Harkins replied, with an unmistakable note of triumph in his voice.
'Everyone shut up and fly!' said Frey, before they could get into an argument. Pinn subsided, grumbling.
The Ketty Jay had picked up a respectable amount of speed now. Malvery appeared at the door of the cockpit, still red-faced from his run earlier.
'You bellowed, Cap'n?'
'I need you up in the bubble. There's planes on our tail. Don't shoot at them unless I give the word.'
'Right-o,' said Malvery. He returned to the passageway and climbed the ladder that led to the autocannon cupola on the Ketty Jay's hump. From there, he could act as Frey's eyes astern. Frey wished there was a better way to see what was going on behind his craft while he was airborne, but if there was, he hadn't found it yet.
'They're catching us up, Cap'n,' Malvery reported. 'You might want to go a bit faster.'
Frey swallowed his reply and concentrated on flying. The Vardenwood lay for hundreds of kloms in all directions. In the far distance he could see the grand city of Vaspine, a crown of lights on the highest hilltops. Below them was the forest, cut through with steep, sharp valleys that joined and divided haphazardly.
'What's the plan, Cap'n?' Jez asked.
Frey hated being asked that, usually because he didn't have an answer. 'Well, they can't really do much. They don't have guns that can penetrate the Ketty Jay's hull. Pinn and Harkins can stay out of their range. We just need a bit of time to pick up speed, then we'll leave them behind.'
Jez returned to the navigator's station and began looking at her charts. Frey watched Harkins and Pinn drop back, behind the Ketty Jay, out of his line of vision.
'Er, one of them's coming up on us awfully fast, Cap'n,' said Malvery. 'Cropduster, by the looks.'
'Put a few warning shots across his bow,' Frey called. 'Warning shots, Malvery.'
'Got it, Cap'n.' The autocannon thumped out a short burst.
'Hey, how come Malvery gets to shoot?' Pinn complained in Frey's ear. Frey ignored him.
'Doesn't seem to have done much good, Cap'n,' said Malvery from the cupola.
Frey pulled the flight stick sharply left. The Ketty Jay responded with an unsettling laziness.
'That didn't do much, either,' Malvery said. 'He's gonna pass over us.'
'You see any guns?'
'No.'
Frey frowned. He wasn't quite sure what the pilot of that plane thought he was going to do to a craft the size of the Ketty Jay. He was still wondering when an avalanche of dust hit the windglass of the cockpit, and he found himself flying blind.
'Cap'n!' Malvery yelled. 'I can't see for buggery up here!'
'What in damnation just happened?' Frey panicked, wrestling with his flight stick. The thrusters were labouring. The Ketty Jay's Black-more P-12s could usually chew through anything, but in their present state, they were having trouble unclogging themselves.
'He dumped his tanks on you!' Pinn told Frey. 'All his fire-fighting dusty stuff. Can't hardly see you in the cloud! Ah, there's more of them coming in now!'
Frey banked again. He heard Malvery open up with the autocannon above him. 'Malvery! I said no!'
'Oh, now you've found your morals?'
'You've seen how they are! If we kill one of 'em, they'll never leave us alone.'
'Cap'n, we should—'
His reply was cut short by a heavy thump from above, that shook the whole aircraft. Frey felt the Ketty Jay plunge a few metres.
'You've got to be joking,' he muttered to himself.
'Cap'n!' Malvery, slightly hysterical this time. 'He's trying to land on us!'
The Ketty Jay rocked again. Frey swore under his breath. The pilot wasn't trying to land on them. He was trying to force them down, bumping them from above with his undercarriage wheels. What kind of crazed idiot did anything half that dangerous?
'Can we please just shoot them?' Pinn cried.
'I've just robbed a bunch of orphans!' Frey snapped. 'I don't want anything else on my conscience today!'
'I thought you said you were an orphan?' Pinn said. 'Doesn't that make it alright?'
Frey bit his lip and sent the Ketty Jay into a dive, venting aerium gas from the tanks to add speed to his descent. The dust had sloughed off the windglass, smearing as it went. It was enough to see through, barely.
'Lose 'em in the valleys?' Jez suggested.
'Lose 'em in the valleys,' Frey agreed.
Frey was getting angry, and when he got angry he got reckless. He dearly wanted to machine-gun the villagers out of the sky, but he was too afraid of the consequences. His specialties were minor smuggling, petty theft, a gentle bit of piracy where nobody got shot and not too much was taken. They were soft crimes which the Navy were far too busy to concern themselves with. Once in a while somebody died, but usually it was a guard too stupid to drop his weapon or a criminal who x probably deserved it anyway. People who accepted the risks and were paid to take them.
Frey didn't count himself in that category, of course. In some vague, ill-defined way, he thought himself more noble than that.
Innocent folk, however, were another matter. These villagers only wanted their money back. Their dogged persistence made him feel guilty, and he was mad at them for that. Theft was only fun if you didn't have to think about the consequences. He didn't actually want the orphanage to close or those children to starve. He'd sort of assumed that the villagers would stump up to cover the shortfall. But since they were so desperate to get it back, he began to wonder whether they could actually afford
it.
Bloody yokels. They were ruining his first successful escapade in months.
The valleys in this part of the Vardenwood were deep and narrow. A complex river system snaked through trenches between the hills, banked by sheer, rocky slopes. Down on the valley floor the walls pressed in tight. The waters thundered through, swollen by the spring floods, glittering silver-grey in the moonlight.
Frey knew the Ketty Jay was operating well below par, but he could still fly better than any amateur could. It took nerve to race through enclosed spaces in an aircraft at night. Nerve that he was betting his pursuers didn't have.
'They're taking potshots at us, Cap'n,' Pinn said in his ear.
'Follow me down into the valleys. Buzz them when you can. Just keep them occupied.'
Pinn muttered something Frey didn't quite catch and then shut up again.
Frey rubbed at his earcuff absently. The early versions of the daemon-powered communicators had leached energy from their users, tiring them out the more they talked to each other. Crake had refined them since, giving them better range and minimising the draining effect. Now they could gabble on to their heart's content, but that only meant they argued and bitched more. Frey wondered if he hadn't preferred the way it was before.
'How's that cropduster, Malvery?' he called.
'Falling behind,' the doctor replied from the cupola.
Frey smiled. The Ketty Jay had finally built up some speed. Not enough to outstrip the villagers' craft, but enough to make them work to keep up. Still, it was going to be difficult flying through the valleys in her condition. Since the Ketty Jay took so long to accelerate, he couldn't use his air brakes. He'd be forced to take every turn at speed.
Just be extra careful, he told himself, knowing that he wouldn't be.
The Ketty Jay swooped into a valley. Slopes of grass and rock blurred by on either side, punctuated by scrawny trees hanging on at unlikely angles. Frey boosted the aerium engines - at least they worked fine - and pulled back on the flight stick to level out a few dozen metres above the river. The valley floor was wide here, and there were small, isolated farming communities on the banks, their windows dark. The Ketty Jay roared past them, kicking up spray and panicking their sleepy herds. Frey took a small, malicious pleasure in that.
'Malvery? The cropduster?'
'He's gone. Pulled off. Can't see him now. Others are coming in though.'
Well, at least we've scared one of them off. Let's see how long the rest of them last in the valleys.
Frey looked up and saw several of the villagers' rustbucket aircraft angling down towards him. Harkins and Pinn were doing their best to harass them, but the villagers' resolve was unshakable.
Jez was rustling charts at her station. 'Valley branches right up ahead, Cap'n. That one's narrower.'
'We'll take it,' said Frey.
The villagers intercepted them before they got to the fork, descending from above to surround the Ketty Jay. Suddenly Frey found himself in the midst of a swarm of small aircraft that buzzed around him like clumsy bees. He wiped at the inside of the cockpit windglass in a futile attempt to clear the dust that stubbornly clung to the other side. He didn't dare take evasive action. The villagers were flying too close.
He heard the sharp tap of a bullet hitting the Ketty Jay. 'They're shooting at us,' Malvery called, sounding unconcerned.
'Let 'em, if it makes 'em happy,' said Frey. The Ketty Jay's armour plating could take a good deal more than that.
'Turn coming up,' Jez warned him.
Frey flexed his hand on the flight stick. 'Pinn! Harkins! Keep going straight on. Take as many with you as you can. I'm going right.'
'Got it, Cap'n!' said Harkins. Then he screamed.
'What? What?' Frey demanded.
'Something hit me!'
Frey searched for Harkins among the planes that surrounded them, and located the Firecrow. It appeared to be undamaged. Then his eye fell on a nearby villager, who was riding shotgun in an ancient open-top biplane, above and to the left of Harkins. As Frey watched, the man lobbed a small object out of the cockpit. It dropped through the air and bounced off the Firecrow's wing. Harkins screamed again and banked in panic. He almost collided with a one-man flyer that was hard on his tail.
'It happened again!'
'They're throwing stuff at you,' Frey informed him. 'With pretty extraordinary accuracy. I think the last one was a wrench.'
'A wrench?!' Harkins shrieked. 'What . . . how ... I mean, what kind of madmen are these? I don't have to take this! Cap'n, I've got a bad feeling ... I mean to say . . . It's just . . . Allsoul's balls, I'd rather fight the Navy than these lot!'
'Turning coming up now!' Jez said.
Frey saw it. The branching valley was a lot narrower.
'Everyone, get out of the way!' Frey yelled at the craft around him. 'I'm coming through, like it or not!' With that, he wrenched the flight stick to the right. Planes scattered as the Ketty Jay slewed away. Frey and Jez were pressed into their seats. There was a raucous series of crashes as every unsecured object on the Ketty Jay tipped over. The artificial horizon on Frey's dash tipped sideways.
We're going too fast!
The rock and scree slope raced to meet them as the Ketty Jay curved gracelessly into the tributary valley. Frey hauled on the stick as hard as he could, but the turn was just a fraction too tight, and he knew they weren't going to make it. He hit the airbrakes and boosted the aerium tanks at the same time, lightening and slowing the craft.
Too little, too late. There was no way he was going to miss that wall. With that realisation came a flash, a moment of stunning clarity in his mind.
What will I leave behind?
Then the Ketty Jay screamed into the tributary, her belly almost scraping the valley wall. Frey blinked. Not dead after all.
There was no time for shock. He levelled the craft, hit the thrusters and tried to make up the speed he'd lost. He could tell Jez was staring at him in disbelief, but he didn't want to meet her eyes right now.
'Malvery! Are they still on us?'
'Two of 'em! We've lost the rest!' Malvery was still in good humour, apparently unaware of their near-death experience. 'One coming up on us fast!'
Jez shook herself and went back to her maps. 'Another tributary coming up. Hard left. The angle's steep, but the tributary's wider.'
Frey's eyes flickered over the valley. Rock and grass and water. The world beyond the smudged windglass seemed startlingly sharp, yet he was flying in a daze.
'Cap'n?' Jez prompted.
'Hard left. Got it.' He tapped his earcuff. 'Hey, Harkins, Pinn? Still there?'
'We're still here.'
'You've done enough. Get going. We'll meet you at the rendezvous.'
'At bloody last,' Pinn said. 'Bye, bye, country boys!'
Frey heard him whoop as he pushed the Skylance to maximum, then he faded out of range. Harkins would be gone too. The villagers' planes couldn't come close to the speed of the fighters.
He spotted the turn ahead of them. Plenty of space, especially as they'd shed some velocity. He was lining up for it when one of the villagers pulled in front of him. It was another two-seater, powered by thrusters and aerium like all modern craft. In the back seat was a man with a rifle, levelling up for another shot at the Ketty Jay. Frey gave him a glance and ignored him, concentrating instead on the upcoming manoeuvre. Let him waste a bullet. Since the pilot was ahead of him, he wouldn't be able to match Frey's sudden turn.
Ready . . .
Ready . . .
Now!
Frey banked hard, and at the same moment the windglass of his cockpit cracked noisily, making him jump. Between the dust, the dark, and the crazed shatter-pattern on the windglass, he could hardly see a thing. Yelling in fear, clinging to his flight stick, he pulled the Ketty Jay through the turn more by feel and luck than anything else.
'He shot my damn windglass!' Frey cried. He jerked his head about, searching frantically for an unshattered section
to see through, and found one just in time to spot the cropduster come flying directly towards him along the valley. He yelled again, threw his whole weight on the stick, and the Ketty Jay dived, hard enough to send the cropduster shooting over their heads.
'What the bloody shit was that? It almost killed me!' Malvery shouted from the cupola.
Frey levelled the Ketty Jay with trembling hands. 'He tried to ram us,' Frey said in disbelief. 'He tried to ram us!' Then his face and voice hardened. 'Alright. That's it' He turned in his seat. 'Jez. Take the Ketty Jay. Turn on the belly lamps and put her down on the valley floor.'
Jez didn't question the order. She got up and switched with him in the pilot's seat. Frey heard her decelerating as he stormed out of the cockpit and into the passageway. He went past the ladder that led to the cupola, where Malvery's feet could be seen dangling.
'Cap'n?' Malvery said, but Frey swept by him, heading for the cargo hold.
His jaw was set tightly as he stamped down steps and passed along gantries. The hold was all but empty, full of echoes. The whine as the Ketty Jay extended her landing struts was loud in here.
Crake was at the bottom of the steps, still holding the lockbox full of coins Frey had given him. He was clinging on to a handrail. There was a bruise on the side of his head.
'What's going on out there, Frey?' he asked. 'I'd have come up, but I didn't dare take the stairs, the way you were flying.'
'Don't worry about it. Give me the box.'
Crake did so. Frey felt the Ketty Jay sink and slow, then there was a jolt as she settled on to her struts. He grabbed an emergency flare from a half-empty rack and pulled the lever to lower the cargo ramp at the Ketty Jay's rear. Hard white brightness flooded in from the landing lamps on her underside. Beyond was the deep green grass of a wild meadow.
He went out into the meadow and stood in the full glare of the lights. Three planes were coming down the valley towards him. He thrust the box in the air with one hand.
'Here's your money, since you want it so much!' He threw it sulkily on the ground, lit the flare, and tossed it to the earth next to the box. 'Now leave me alone!'