It found a gap

“It found a gap,” the messenger says, “it found a gap, and it jumped the Lull.”

“What about Jenner’s squad?”

“Burnt, sir, in the flash.”

“No survivors? Not a one?”

The messenger shakes his head, flakes of ash floating to the carpet. There is a permanent smell of smoke throughout the base, and it sours the air to the point that outsiders can barely stand to breathe it. Carriers don’t even notice it, nor the soot ground into their skin.

“Have any Runners made it to base yet?”

“Two, sir.”

“Two? That’s it?”

“They say eighty-two men and women have dug in behind the Nome Break, and another twenty are pushing through at lull tonight.”

“Lull’s at twenty-two thirty; they’re travelling by firelight?”

“Yes. Jenner was supposed to meet them at Beaty’s Strip, and lead them in.”

“Can we get anyone out there, as a replacement?”

“Beaty went up three hours ago, and no one knows if the lull will take effect there.”

“We can’t let them walk right into it...Maybe if we bridge it?”

“Yalleh was in Jenner’s squad, we don’t have anyone else strong enough.”

“Then we put out an alarm; eighteen ships are heading east for the Twenty-Third reverse line tonight, there has to be someone.”

“Do they shadow early enough?”

“First shadow is at fifteen fifteen, last is nineteen fifty; that should leave us enough time.”

“I can do that for you, sir, I’m on my way there next anyway; what should I code it?”

“One-oh-eight fifty-one, and thank you.”

“Only wish I had better news.”

“No point in worrying about that now, let’s get the Runners in first, then we can panic.”

0---

“We saw the flash,” Mrs. Jenner says, “it lit up the whole sky, it seemed like.”

“We thought we should come see you, to save you the trouble.”

“Yes, if you’re not too busy now? Or we can wait, if that would be more convenient.”

Fress blinks, looks down at his hands, clutching at the alarm responses that are pouring into his office. So far, there has been nothing good, but it’s early, he reminds himself, it’s only sixteen hundred, the shadow has only just started.

Mothers, fathers, sisters, husbands, children, brothers, wives, grandmothers and fathers. They are huddled together at the mouth of his office, not angry or horrified, but resigned. This is the reality of being a Carrier; their family may have been broken in half not an hour ago, but they will sit, make lunch for grounded sailors to give the cooks a rest, offer to help with the spring cleaning, because only at his earliest convenience will this be discussed.

It’s something they were born to take in stride, with the exception of the first Sampson Lull and the Fuller Straight.

There is a monument of obsidian at the exact center of the compound, thousands of names carved into its gleaming surfaces; a list of what the fire has stolen.

It is the day that flames lick at its base that they have lost, and only then.

“Now is fine,” Fress says, “please, everyone, have a seat.”

0---

“Njord has someone,” Fress says, “from Abevri, dark side.”

“And they can be replaced on the reverse line?”

“Yes, a patrol ship will move in, the links are strong enough.”

“Whose are they?”

“Flight 7, which means Lawrence’s; he’ll understand.”

“Njord, that sounds familiar.”

“They fly with Lawrence’s boys; they’ve been here a few times before.”

“The lieutenant’s life, I remember. He worked in the hospital after the steam.”

Fress rereads the ship’s papers, frowning. “Dr. Jase Charter,” he says at last, “life five—hang on, what’s this? Have you seen this before?”

There is a plus sign and a question mark inside brackets next to his classification.

“What are they trying to say? That he’s above a five?”

“I guess. I mean, what else could it be?”

“He spoke before the Eighth Council,” Fress says, “Lawrence told me about it. Said he scared the hell out of them. There’s something else about him, something important, otherwise why would he be there?”

“Says here that he’s power of attorney for Luke Westerly? Isn’t that—?”

“The weather that’s apparently going to kill us all if we don’t get him first? Yes. That’s him. And Charter is the one that will kill us all if we do.”

“Oh.”

“These are a different breed of sailors all together,” Fress says, “so don’t be surprised when they don’t act like it. I had better send a memo or something.”

“A memo…”

“Not enough?”

“No. Not even close.”

0---

A return to 2007 Additions.