Bram Möller's Arc

Chapter 35 of 63

Bram folded the bid notice into his jacket pocket. The winter long-haul was the run he had chased for years. It was also the run that would decide whether his new bag was a courier's tool or a scrap sale. Vex read his face and stopped smiling. "You want to bid a bag that flew one test lift." "I want to bid it in front of the pilots who'll spread the word if it holds," Bram said. "Otherwise the small bag is a rumor and I'm the pilot who lost his envelope on the mountain." Omondi rubbed the back of his neck. "The bid board will be crowded. Every long-haul courier in the district will be there. They will look at your bag and count the panels." "Let them count." They walked the bag across the yard to the depot field. Two crews stopped work to watch. A tall courier with a fur hood spat into the snow and said the salvage bag would not clear the first ridge. Another said Bram had lost his last envelope and was flying a patch. Bram did not answer. He climbed the ladder one-handed and set his palm on the crown seam. It held cold and firm. The depot master came out with the bid sheet. "Long-haul opens at dusk. Winter route, full circuit. Proof of envelope required. Any pilot without a live bag on the field walks off the sheet." Bram signed. The tall courier laughed. "Walk it around the field first. Let us see it lift with weight." It was a fair test and Bram had expected it. He nodded to Omondi. Omondi loaded two crates of sand into the basket, tripped on the last one, and caught the rope before the crate hit his foot. Vex tied off the lines. Bram unclipped his mechanical owl from the rafter perch and set it on the brass ring. The owl gripped. Steam curled from its vents. He cut the mooring and lifted. The small bag rose slow and level. Bram took her twice around the field at mast height, then higher, into the crosswind above the depot roofs. The fabric drummed but did not give. He worked the vent by hand and brought her down soft on the mark. The sand crates thumped and stayed. When he climbed out the tall courier was gone. The depot master wrote a line on the bid sheet and turned it to Bram. "Envelope confirmed. You are on the list." Vex clapped him once on the shoulder. Omondi grinned and pointed at the tail, where his name was stitched in black thread. Above the yard a storm-tracking hawk circled once and settled on the loft rail, watching. Bram buttoned his fur collar. He was on the list. The route itself was still ahead, and every pilot on the sheet would be flying against him at dusk.