Blaze of Glory (40 page)

As the metal bird dived, it screeched, a wild clanging
cry that joined the tumult of the thunderstorm and the
burning dirigible.

Aubrey hung on, desperately, fingers whitening with
effort. Suddenly the metal bird lunged and struck the
observation cockpit with its talons. Aubrey cried out as
the glass shattered and the crewman fell, flailing, through
the air.

Aubrey hammered at the bird's metal skin, shouting
wordless oaths of anger and disbelief. What had he done?
Created a monster and loosed it on the world?

The metal bird folded its wings and dived after the
falling Gallian, and Aubrey was forced to cling with both
hands. He squinted and tried to think of a spell to stop
the creature's madness.

Then Aubrey's grip was tested again. With a crack like
a giant's whip, the bird thrust out its wings and stopped its
dreadful descent. The jolt threw him aside and, for a
desperate moment, he had nothing to hold onto. He slid,
his back scraping on bolts and ridges, until his head hung
over the bird's flank. Far below, the dark and hard ground
beckoned. Above was the blazing immensity of the dirigible.
Of course, there now also existed the possibility of
being pecked to death by a rampaging metal avian.

Another jolt sent him head first over the bird's flank,
and he was only prevented from tumbling into the empty
air when he grabbed a feathered ridge. While his heart
raced, the world wheeled around below, a great, flat dish
waiting to catch him.

Wind ripped at his clothes and made his eyes water.
Desperately trying to think of a way out of his predica-
ment, he saw the great talons of the metal bird a few feet
below him. They were clutching the Gallian crewman.
His uniform was scorched, his eyes were closed. Aubrey
couldn't tell if he was breathing or not.

His collar jerked and, for an awful instant, he thought
he was about to fall. He looked up to see George grimacing
and holding onto his jacket. With George's help,
Aubrey managed to scramble up until he was again flat
on the back of the bird, panting with exertion and exhilaration
at his rescue. His fingers ached from clinging to
his handholds, but he was alive!

He put his mouth close to George's ear. 'The Gallian!
The bird has him! He's safe!'

'Like we are?' George shouted. Aubrey grinned.

Blinding white light peeled the sky apart and the metal
bird was flung across the heavens. Its wings flapped in
wild, jerky sweeps. Aubrey, blinked, dazzled and deafened,
alarmed at the smell of hot metal and ozone. Through
black spots that wandered in his vision, he looked over his
shoulder to see that half the bird's tail was missing –
melted, with black charred streaks.

It had been struck by lightning.

The creature almost tumbled, then righted itself and
began a descent that was a combination of vertigo-inducing
drops and a controlled tight spiral. Aubrey
peered over the side. The flames of the still-descending
dirigible reflected in the ponds of the sewage treatment
works bordering the airfield.

Their descent continued to slow. Aubrey cheered on
the plucky bird, but the rasping tickle that signalled the
presence of magic made him alert. The feathers beneath
his fingers rippled and flowed, rearranging themselves,
shifting shape. The creature heaved, plunging a little, then
Aubrey was in the battered cabin of the ornithopter
again. The windscreen was cracked and the smell of
scorched metal was thick in the enclosed space.

Aubrey had time to see that George was in the seat
next to him and that the unconscious Gallian airman was
in the seat behind. George was hastily strapping on his
seat belt and Aubrey managed to do the same before the
ornithopter splashed into the sewage works.

Aubrey was thrown forward and hit his head on the
steering column. He jerked back, blinking, as water
cascaded on the cabin roof. He gasped for air and was
soon rewarded by the rich fragrance of the settling ponds.
Through the window he saw, in the distance, the tattered
remains of the dirigible settling with relative dignity into
the swampy morass. A cloud of steam and smoke rose to
the heavens.

A dense, ponderous feeling settled on Aubrey's shoulders,
making them sag. It took him a moment to be able
to identify it as relief. He spent a moment wondering
about the flawed spell, and how he could have made the
ornithopter's change last longer, but he gave up, pleased
that such a quickly cobbled-together effort had worked
at all.

George coughed and cleared his throat. 'Good landing.'

'What?'

'WingCo Jeffries said any landing you walk away from
is a good landing.' George peered out of the window. 'Or
in our case, swim away from.'

'Oh.'

The ornithopter wobbled, slipped, paused and then
began to sink.

Aubrey shrugged. Just when things couldn't get any
worse, they did. He glanced over his shoulder to see that
the Gallian was still unconscious, but breathing. He was
sprawled across the back seats like a rag doll.

Aubrey rubbed his forehead. He felt weary to the
bone. The magical exertion had drained him and he
knew he'd pay for it later. 'You know, George, I was just
wondering why you jumped into the ornithopter with
me. What were you going to do? You don't know the first
thing about flying.'

'Just habit, old man. You go off on a hare-brained expedition,
I tag along to try to stop you from killing yourself.
Or, at least, to minimise the damage to innocent
bystanders. It's a hobby, I suppose.'

'Couldn't you have taken up stamp collecting?'

'Allergic to glue, old man. You know that.'

Aubrey was silent for a time and watched the
discoloured water rise up the windows. Then the
ornithopter bumped and stopped sinking. Nearby, frogs
started croaking.

'George?'

'Mm?'

'You remember that holiday I said we should take after
the examinations?'

'Of course.'

'I think now could be a good time to take it.'