Читать книгу The Grand Dark - Richard Kadrey - Страница 15

An excerpt from the Diaries of Gräfin Beatrice Henke¹

It was a few minutes after ten in the evening. Or perhaps it was eleven. They’d lost track of time.

The airship moved along Lower Proszawa’s southeast border in a light rain. Buffeted by cool crosswinds, it turned slowly, tracing the eastern border over the Krieghund Mountains, heading north. The ship swayed in the updrafts from the somber peaks, but settled again as soon as it reached the open fields of Die Gefallenen.

None of this, however, was of any interest to the partiers in the ballroom, who were focused on Greta, the Chancellor’s wife’s niece—entirely naked and eating a slice of honey cake with her hands as she fell into Orlok’s lap. A handsome man with long ginger hair, he was the singer in one of the city’s most popular dance bands. Greta mashed the cake into his face and proceeded to kiss it off as the rest of the party laughed.

“Lucky Orlok,” said Gustav. “Another rich little bird lands right in his lap. What is his secret?”

“Don’t whine,” said Petersen. “You had your chance with her.”

“But I’m merely a poet. Not a musical god. All of my little birds flit away in the slightest breeze.”

Greta leaned away from Orlok and pulled Gustav over by his tie. She mashed the last of her cake into his face and began kissing him too. The three fell into a pile on the lounge’s silk pillows.

The gathering had begun as someone’s birthday party, but around the end of day three it had turned into something else. What, no one knew yet. Perhaps it would become clear after another day or two.

For now, though, people were interested in doing everything they could to feel anything … or nothing. The languid hedonism in the ballroom. And the foggy boredom in the airship’s forward observation deck. It was a greenhouse full of exotic plants, wrapping around the front of the craft. Helene watched as an industrialist named Frölich pried open one of the side windows and threw out a full champagne flute. “For my customers,” he said, giggling drunkenly. Soon, others were throwing things—food, plants, articles of clothing. Whatever they found amusing. Helene watched them from a bench by herself, growing bored with these people, their dull games, and the surroundings. She was wondering if there was some way that she could get off the airship without the others knowing when the small squirrel-like chimera that Frölich kept in the breast pocket of his jacket leaped to the floor and ran away. Instead of chasing his pet, Frölich and the others laughed as it disappeared from sight. Without thinking, Helene jumped from the bench and ran after the poor creature.

She soon found it cowering along one of the interior walkways. Picking it up, she cooed until it stopped trembling. When she heard boring Frölich heading down the corridor behind her, Helene didn’t hesitate to push through a door marked Authorized Personnel Only.

Once inside, she found herself on a bare metal gangway in the true interior of the airship. The craft’s skin stretched over and around her. It’s like being swallowed by a great silver whale, Helene thought. Along the ribs that kept the ship’s skin taut, an army of robin-size Maras scuttled up and down, occasionally darting out onto the skin to mend small holes. Brief bolts of white-blue plazma shot from a central shaft to the ribs, jolting the little Maras with power. Instead of being scared, Helene was delighted by the interior lightning storm.

“Fräulein?”

Helene jumped at the sound of the man’s voice, almost dropping the little chimera. She turned and found herself face-to-face with a tall, ruddy man in the white uniform of the ship’s crew.

“I’m very sorry,” she said. “I’ll go back with the others.”

“There’s no need for that,” the man said. “The Kapitän saw you rescue your little pet and sent me to invite you to see the control room. Only if you like, of course.”

It wasn’t a hard decision, as Helene had no desire to return to the tedious decadence of the party. She stroked the little chimera and said, “Thank you. I’d love to.”

The man made a small bow. “I’m Leutnant Dietze. Please follow me.”

As they went down a short flight of metal stairs, Helene told the Leutnant her name.

“It’s delightful to meet you, Helene. The control room is right through here,” Dietze said, opening a door for her.

It was a whole different world in the control room. A crew of six men and women nodded at her when she came in. The floor rumbled and the noise of the engines was like thunder. Helene looked around, startled by the sound.

A gray-haired man in a uniform with gold stripes on his shoulders approached her. “It is a bit loud, isn’t it? But you get used to it,” he said. “I’m Kapitän Siodmak. Welcome to my ship …”

“Helene,” she said quickly. Like the Leutnant had, he made a small bow, but he didn’t extend a hand as she expected. She realized why when she looked closer. Both of his arms were mechanical, intricate contraptions of wood and metal. When Helene looked at the rest of the crew again she realized that many of them also had artificial limbs or eyes. War veterans, she thought. To keep herself from staring, she turned back to the Kapitän and locked her gaze on his eyes.

If he noticed her shock, he didn’t let on. “Would you like to see how we pilot the ship?” he said.

“Very much,” said Helene, gripping the little chimera nervously.

Kapitän Siodmak swept his mechanical arm toward an intricate control panel that took up much of the room. Helene approached it tentatively. A complex array of dials, switches, gauges, and levers covered the console, which was strangely shaped. Instead of the hard lines she expected, the control panel was somewhat rounded, with small pipes that looked like veins running along the top and sides. The panel appeared vaguely organic to her, which wasn’t nearly as startling as what she saw under a glowing dome in the forward center of the console. There was a large knotted mass of what looked like pink tissue. It pulsed slightly with each bump and turn of the ship.

“Is that …?” she said.

“A chimera?” said the Kapitän. “Why, yes, it is. It’s why I’m able to chat with you. Our little friend here can pilot the ship for short periods and even set course for us. In case of emergency, it can help us land, but I don’t recommend the experience. It’s usually a bit bumpy.” The crew chuckled quietly at that.

Before she could stop herself, Helene said, “Is that what happened to your arms?” The moment the words were out of her mouth she went pale, shocked by her own rudeness. “I’m sorry. I had no right to ask.”

The Kapitän shook his head. “It’s perfectly all right. And yes, that is what happened.”

“In the war?” she said.

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry.”

“There’s no need. I was happy to do my duty.”

Feeling awkward now and wanting to leave as soon as possible, Helene said, “Thank you very much, Herr Kapitän. I’ve truly enjoyed meeting you and your crew.”

However, before she could leave, the Kapitän said, “Actually, I was hoping that you could help us for a moment.”

She looked at him and wondered if he was mocking her for her impertinent question. “I don’t understand what you mean,” she said.

Siodmak pointed out the window at the front of the room. “We’ll be turning into an area with more airships soon. We like to warn them of our approach with a signal flare. I was wondering if you’d like to send it up for us.”

Helene smiled. “You’re not making fun of me, are you?” she said.

The Kapitän shook his head. “Not at all. It’s a simple procedure and quite pretty to see. But, of course, if you’re not interested—”

“But I am. Really.”

“Then step over here, please.”

Attached to the bulkhead was what looked like a pistol grip connected to a long tube that led outside the ship. The Kapitän took a brass cylinder from a small box nearby and loaded it into the tube.

“Is that the flare?” said Helene.

“Yes. There’s a small chimera inside.”

Helene frowned. “The flare is a chimera?”

“You’ll see,” said the Kapitän. He cocked the hammer on the gun and stepped aside.

Helene approached the gun nervously and wrapped her hand around the grip. It was bulky and slightly cold—probably, she thought, from the outside winds coming down the metal tube. She looked at Siodmak and said, “Now?”

“Whenever you like.”

She pressed Frölich’s little pet to her chest and squeezed the trigger. There was a loud whump as the flare shot up and out of the ship. A few seconds later, it burst into purple flames. The chimera was like a fiery bat, flapping its wings as it climbed into the sky. Helene craned her neck to watch it go. A few seconds later, there was a bright flash of light as the bat exploded above the dense clouds overhead. Then something fell from the sky—a thousand small, burning points of light, like a rain of diamonds.

Below the ship, the clouds parted for a moment and Helene could see the edges of the city and her home, Empyrean. For the first time in a long while, she felt at ease. Forward in the ship, Frölich and some of the older men would be talking about steel production and plazma stores for the army. But here, between the ground and the burning clouds above, there were no worries. No talk about the restless poor or war. Helene never wanted to see the city again. She wanted to explode in the sky and rain down on the world like burning jewels.

Eventually, though, she thanked the Kapitän, the Leutnant, and the rest of the crew and made her way forward again. After delivering the little chimera back to Frölich, Helene went into the greenhouse observation deck and found the window he’d pried open earlier. In a few seconds, the freezing wind numbed her face. It would be so easy, she thought, to step out into the sky like the little bat. Helene wondered how far up she could go if she jumped as hard as she could …

The rain grew heavy, though, and soon she closed the window and returned to the party. Helene found Greta still wedged between Orlok and Gustav on the pillows. She and Orlok were making love, but drunken Gustav had fallen asleep. Helene pushed him aside and kissed Greta as Alex pulled her down to join in the fun.