The Black Lung Captain - Chris Wooding [92]
Didn’t see that one coming, did you, Trinica?
The Storm Dog thundered past the Ketty Jay as Frey went to take care of his own target. Grist was moving into position between the Delirium Trigger and the barque, to block her off and give Frey time to work. The Delirium Trigger would have her cannons in action in moments. She was wounded but far from finished.
The barque was slower to react to the attack. It continued on its course as if oblivious, widening the gap between itself and its escort. It was long and thin, the stern end boxy and stout with stubby fins sticking out to either side to serve as mounts for its ailerons. The foremost two-thirds of the craft was split along its length, giving it the look of a twin-bladed bayonet. A Dakkadian bayonet, like the one Frey had taken in the guts back in Samarla. The memory made Frey’s stomach cramp unpleasantly.
He craned forward to see through the rain on the windglass, his finger hovering over the trigger on the flight stick. The barque was a design he’d never come across, and he had nowhere to aim. Not that it bothered Malvery, who was blasting away on the autocannon with reckless abandon.
“Jez!” Frey snapped urgently. “You ever seen this kind of craft before?”
“It’s a Kedson Harbinger, Cap’n.”
“Any idea where the aerium tanks are?”
“Two on each side, port and starboard. One about ten meters back from the bow, one beneath the ailerons.”
“I could kiss you.”
“I’d rather you didn’t. Allsoul only knows where that mouth’s been.”
The barque loomed closer. It still hadn’t shown any sign of reacting to the surprise attack. Slow crew, badly trained. That was good. They weren’t pirates and they weren’t Navy. What did Awakeners know about aerial combat?
Frey heard a bellow of cannon to port, and the night was lit by fire: the Storm Dog and the Delirium Trigger were engaging each other in earnest. He ignored them, hoping he was beneath their notice. In this visibility, with all that was going on, the Delirium Trigger probably didn’t even know the Ketty Jay was there.
He adjusted his approach, aiming his machine guns for the aerium tanks on the barque’s stern end. Shoot out the aerium tanks, and the craft would lose buoyancy and sink. Once they brought it down, it would be easy pickings.
“Steady,” he muttered to himself. “Steady.”
A stutter of lightning lit up his target.
Not yet … not yet …
He pressed down on his guns and, at the same moment, the night exploded.
It was like being swatted by a giant. The Ketty Jay was thrown sideways, machine guns raking wildly along the flank of the barque. Frey was flung about in his seat, and Jez almost fell out of hers. Pipes shrieked and burst out in the corridor, spraying gas and fluid everywhere. There was the sound of shattering glass, and Malvery came tumbling down the ladder that led to the cupola. He crashed in a heap at the bottom, accompanied by a squall of wind and rain.
Frey had just about enough sense to pull the Ketty Jay aside in time to avoid ramming the side of the barque. They shot past on the aft side, passing through the backwash of the engines. The Ketty Jay was lifted and blasted aside, rolling crazily, engines coughing as they threatened to stall.
Don’t die on me, girl! Frey begged his aircraft as he wrestled to stop her flipping entirely. Jez hung on to her seat for dear life. Malvery was sent skidding down the corridor on his back, bellowing like a bewildered walrus. Frey could hear distant machine guns and saw tracer fire gliding past him in the night from the direction of the barque. A moment later, a dozen sharp, punching impacts echoed through the Ketty Jay.
“You never told me the damn thing was armed!” Frey screamed at Jez.
“I didn’t think I needed to!” she screamed back. “I thought you’d be expecting a little resistance!”
“Well, you thought wrong!”
“Well, you’re an idiot!” she replied. Then, respectfully, “Cap’n.”
By now Frey had fought the Ketty Jay level, and the engines were settling down. They raced away from the barque and the Delirium Trigger,