Shrev purposely strode along a maintenance ring. The so-called "maintenance rings" were really a collection of five catwalks between the outer hull and the actual gas bags. Each catwalk completely encircled the gas bags. At various points, seven-meter ladders rose from one maintenance ring to another which mechanics and engineers used to examine and repair the mechanism responsible for keeping the kilometer-long vessel aloft. Five meters above the highest catwalk was a technical "deck" which consisted of a grate festooned with trapdoors about a meter above the top of the gasbags. Two meters above the grate deck was the highest point of the cylindrical outer hull. Eight meters below the lowest catwalk was a solid steel plate which also formed the highest roof of the passenger/cargo compartments. Shrev expertly stayed on the right side of the 4-meter wide railingless catwalk as he passed numerous engineers and mechanics. Ignoring the whispered "My Lord"s and bows, Shrev continued his search for one face in particular.
The Dictator took a ladder to the top maintenance ring, then climbed another ladder out onto the hull itself. If I'm right... He was. Ten meters below him, secured to one of the exterior rungs the Hull Integrity Specialists used, was Annabelle Lee.
Shrev opened a cabinet next to the trapdoor he had exited from, revealing a cable spool attached to a motorized winch. He clipped the end of the cable to his belt. The Dictator then carefully climbed down towards her.
As he came within half a meter of her, she looked up. "How did you find me?" She began evenly.
"Come on, Annabelle. We've traveled together for twelve and a half years." Shrev explained. "I know you like to hide in places you think nobody in their right mind would follow you to."
"Nobody in their right mind would follow me." She stated. "Why are you here?"
"I came to say I'm sorry-" He began.
"Stop." Annabelle interrupted. "Don't do that."
"Do what?" The Dictator asked in confusion. "Undervalue you? Apologize?"
"Lie to me." She clarified. "You're not sorry. You're just worried I won't speak to you again."
"That...you're right." Shrev admitted.
"I've traveled with you for twelve and a half years. Of course I'm right." She looked out towards the sunset.
"So we're good?" The Dictator pushed.
"Come down here." Annabelle ordered. "Come on - I only bite when I want to."
"That's not exactly comforting." Shrev quipped as he climbed down until they were holding onto the same rung.
"Do you trust me?" She asked quietly.
"Yes." He replied after a moment.
"Let go." She whispered.
Shrev looked down. The Absolute Power was only two kilometers above the sea, but even a fall at this height would be deadly. Of course I am secured. Then he looked back at Annabelle, noting her eyes. "All right." He whispered back, and let go.
He felt himself seized even as his fingers lost the rung. Then Annabelle was hanging on to him. As they fell, the silver airship flashed by on one side and the sea closed on the other, but he saw only her face.
With a savage jerk, they stopped falling in mid-air. Annabelle laughed as they swung on the end of the cable she'd secured to the rung they'd fallen from, her strength keeping The Dictator from falling to the end of his secure cable. She then suddenly kissed him.
"Now we're good." She grinned.
"So what happens now?" Shrev uttered as he fought his way through shock. "With us, I mean."
"Well, I suppose twelve years is enough time to get to know you. I guess we'll see when I guard your door tonight." Annabelle teased.
"I can't wait." He replied sincerely.
"I have to warn you, though. I'm kind of a selfish witch." She bantered.
"Why do you think I love you?" Shrev asked rhetorically before kissing her. "Now how do we get back up?"
"Oh, that's easy." Annabelle stated brightly. "We just use the winch...no, your belt wouldn't hold. We could...no, I need to hold you up. Maybe..."
"You have no idea, do you?" The Dictator questioned dryly.
-------------
Zoe kept the aircraft's throttle up near the maximum as she zoomed across the sky. Every village, settlement, city, and even patrol airship she'd flown over had not challenged her. Another one of The Dictator's head games? She asked herself. Most likely.
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Colonel Rodriguez led the group of six off the grounded Autumn Dream, the Captain and his clearly pregnant girlfriend waving as they left.
"Care to tell us a little more about our mission, Ma'am?" Smokey asked carefully.
"Not really." Colonel Rodriguez answered firmly. "Follow me."
The city around them was truly unusual - it encompassed a very large area with numerous integrated airstrips, some of them suspended above rows of homes and businesses. Whereas in Haven helicopters constantly darted from building to building, here it was electric trams carrying people and goods across the sprawling cityscape, with only the occasional helicopter in the sky. Incoming zeppelins from other places moored at the city limits in order to allow the trams to disperse their cargo.
It was one of these tram stations which Colonel Rodriguez led the group of six - Seymour, Smokey, Bell, Lati, Ice and herself - to. The tram was military sky blue and already jam-packed with green-uniformed people belonging to the air service. There must have been thirty people sitting in the bench seats on the 12x2 meter tram.
The tram pulled away from the station and accelerated to 95kph within five seconds. It switched onto a set of eight central tracks running across the city, other trams whizzing the other way or pacing it. Despite the number of people, the interior of the tram was silent outside of the whine of the electric motors.
Bell suddenly asked the tram at large "Who's here about the sudden air force conscription?"
Seymour, Lati, and Colonel Rodriguez looked at her. "What? I can't take the silence." She explained.
"Well, I ain't." The tram engineer replied. "I just run ma' tram."
A man in the front row spoke up. "Uh yeah, I am. But I'm not a pilot - just a mechanic."
A woman in the back called "I'm with air traffic control."
"Silence." Colonel Rodriguez ordered loudly enough to be heard. "If you're on this tram, you're part of the operation. You'll all be briefed at the appropriate time."
-------------
Zoe's Si-47 flew towards the city of Monsterguard. The city itself stretched over nearly a hundred kilometers all told, with no building stretching higher than a hundred meters.
She remembered that in the history packet she'd been given, Monsterguard's solution to the jungle surrounding it had been unique to the Big Three cities: It's people had chosen to send patrols into the jungle and clear out living space, what the city called lebensraum, for itself. Over many years and thousands of deaths, Monsterguard had fought a place for itself into the hostile jungle. After the formation of the Apocalypta-Haven alliance, the city had been found in the jungle.
At that point, the Alliance had attempted to annex Monsterguard, but the city's determined, no-nonsense, industrious people had constructed powerful armored mobile ground units and surface-to-air weapons to defend themselves. Monsterguard was granted equal status in the Alliance less than a year after it developed the G-1 Luna, the infamous ground-based interceptor which had earned the name "Popper" during its initial debut with fourteen zeppelin and twenty-three Si-15 Dominator kills to one casualty.
"Alpha Mike, Mike Actual. We were alerted to expect you." A male voice came over the radio.
Zoe started. "Uh, this is Alpha Mike. Good to know."
"We have a landing zone for you - northern edge, pad #47 of Primary Air Staging. Clearance is less than ten meters, windspeed zero."
"Uh, thanks. Proceeding as directed." She answered.
---------------
Zoe expertly landed on the 5x5 meter pad. About half the pads were occupied by what looked like a straight wing single-engine version of the Si-47, in the mustard yellow associated with reserve forces. She swiftly dropped down to the tarmac as mechanics performing routine maintenance paused to stare at her bright red fighter and its clashing sky blue drop tanks.
"I"m going to need fueling." She ordered one of the mechanics, who bowed and rushed off.
Zoe scanned the Monsterguard Primary Air Staging center. The facility included a 5.8k runway, eight 400 square meter hangers, more than a hundred standard outdoor pads, ten zeppelin mooring masts, and its own tram station. It was easily the largest Air Staging center in Tayloristan, but more importantly, it had the largest runway by more than a kilometer.
Yeah, that's where I need to go. At the opposite end of the runway, nearly a dozen huge fixed-wing aircraft waited on the tarmac. Odd. Those don't look Tayloristani- Oh. The realization struck her that Tayloristan didn't build large cargo planes - the ones currently waiting on the runway had been seized from dozens of nations during customs inspections.
Zoe gritted her teeth and began jogging for the planes.
-------------------
Up close, it was fairly obvious that her earlier impression was correct. The lead plane was clearly of Argentinian design, just with the Tayloristani flag hastily painted over the flag of its former owner.
A group of green-uniformed men and women were marching towards the lead jet. Green uniforms? Air service. Phillip. Zoe altered her direction to intercept them.
"-secure area. You'll be briefed in flight." A stern-looking woman wearing a Colonel's patch was saying.
Zoe walked straight up to her. "I believe you can help me."
The entire blob of people stopped. "Wonderful." She sighed in exasperation. "Amatyi, probably internal security, poking into my operation. Is there anything better you could do?"
"Actually, I'm just here to speak with a Flight Officer Phillip Seymour." Zoe replied evenly but forcefully.
"Well, you can't-" The Colonel began, but was interrupted. "Zoe?" Phillip stepped forward. Four women standing near him snickered.
Zoe glared at them, then turned to Phillip. "Not expecting me?"
"Actually no, not at all." Seymour replied. "I couldn't find you, so I left a note. How did you?"
"Did you think I'd let you get away with just a note?" Zoe answered. "I may have twisted Annabelle's arm a little bit."
"This is all fascinating," The Colonel's voice was dripping with sarcasm. "-But I have a major operation to get rolling. Unless you have a writ of discontinuation..."
"I don't." Zoe stated. "I just wanted to say goodbye to a friend."
The Colonel resumed walking, and the blob of people joined her.
"Goodbye." Zoe called.
"Goodbye." Phillip answered.
-------------
Zoe arrived back at her plane. Behind her, the massive jets began to take off, their deafening engines straining for speed. A mechanic who had just been fueling the plane stepped away.
Zoe circled the aircraft to its cockpit, then began to get it. As she pulled herself up, something hit her from behind and her world went dark.
A massive cargo jet clawed itself into the sky with its fellows, oblivious to the drama below.
---------------
Zoe awakened to find blackness before her eyes. Her hands and feet were tied to a chair, and the blackness felt enough like cloth that she decided she could assume it was a bag.
An unknown amount of time passed, then Zoe heard footsteps. The bag was slowly removed to reveal Jacob Taylor standing before her. That's odd. She thought sluggishly. Why is it odd?
"Where am I? Why did you take me?" Zoe questioned with a rising fury.
"Now, I apologize for one of our people taking you. There's someone you need to meet." Taylor answered unhelpfully. He stepped back, taking a position by the wall.
A woman walked around from behind Zoe, her footsteps absolutely silent. Red hair cascaded over her shoulders and halfway to her waist. She turned to face Zoe.
"Annabelle." Zoe deadpanned. "Use a tech thing to grow your hair? What is this, vengeance for twisting your arm?"
"Your confusion is understandable." The woman replied. "My name is Angela Lee."
Zoe blinked.
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