Bram Möller's Arc

Chapter 10 of 63

The harbor lights fell away behind him and the mountains came up black against a black sky. Bram had flown this range a hundred times in daylight. He had never flown it at night in a bag he did not know. The prototype pulled to the left when he leaned on the wheel. He corrected. It over-corrected. He eased off and the gondola swung under him like a bucket on a short rope. He throttled down and let the ship find its own trim. The smaller envelope rode higher on the wind than his old one. Every gust hit it harder. He could not see the ridgelines. He could only see where the stars stopped. He reached back and unclipped the mechanical owl from its perch. "Go ahead. Find me the wall." The owl's brass eyes brightened. Steam ticked from its vents. It dropped off the rail and vanished into the dark. Bram tightened the collar of his cracked leather jacket against the cold and waited, counting his own breath. The owl came back inside three minutes and landed hard on the rail. Its readings scrolled across the small dial at its breast. Rock face, four hundred yards left. Downdraft under it. Clean air to the right for maybe half a mile. Bram put the wheel over. The prototype answered late, then all at once. He almost overshot. He caught it with a shorter pull than he wanted to make and felt the envelope shudder above him. Nothing tore. He held course. He worked that way for an hour. Send the owl. Wait. Correct. Send the owl. The bag learned him a little. He learned it more. It liked a light hand. It hated a hard climb. He remembered Vex's warning about hard climbs and did not test it. The next stop's beacon showed up low on the horizon, a single yellow point below the stars. He brought the ship down toward it in a long shallow line, the owl on the rail, his good hand on the wheel, his bad hand tucked inside the jacket to keep warm. He set down on the pad with a bump that rattled the cargo. A dock hand ran out with a lantern. Bram killed the burner and sat a moment in the gondola, listening to the envelope settle. It had held. He had flown a strange bag through mountains in the dark and put it down whole. The dock hand stopped at the gondola and looked up. "You Möller?" "Yes." "There's a woman inside asking for you. Says she came a long way. Won't give her name." Bram unclipped the owl and stepped down onto the pad. His legs shook once and steadied. He had one stop left after this one. He walked toward the light of the shed, the owl on his shoulder, and did not yet know who was waiting.