Ganymede (The Clockwork Century 3)

Houjin peeled his face away from the scope, revealing a red groove around his eyes and down his cheeks, where he’d pressed himself so hard against the seam that it’d left an imprint.

“There it is!” he all but shrieked.

“Yeah, kid. There it is…,” the captain said with a bit of wonder taking the edge off his voice. “How many more?”

“Um?…” Houjin crushed his face back against the visor. “Four more. I can see four. We should be down to two, but the other two—and they’re all Texian—must have come from around the island. They’re coming out to help. They’re not shooting at the airships anymore, so that’s something, isn’t it?”

“It sure is. Now, where’s the nearest boat?”

“About sixty … maybe eighty yards north-northeast. Turn us, and I’ll tell you when we’re lined up with them. ”

“Where are Mumler and Little?”

“I don’t see them, sir. Wait—one of them is right behind us, and he says … he says … he’s telling us to head deeper, to the north. ”

“Why?”

“I don’t know!” the boy said, exasperated. “Maybe we’re running into shallow territory. Can you see the bottom?”

“Not well,” Cly admitted.

“Not at all,” Deaderick amended.

“Fine. Follow the lead of … whichever one of them it is. You can’t tell?”

“It’s dark, sir. They’re keeping low. People are shooting—everyone up there, everyone is shooting. ”

The captain grunted and said, “Good thing for us we’re down here. I hope those fellows stay out of trouble. ”

Deaderick turned around and said, “Houjin—do you see the other one? Anywhere? Did he get shot out, or is he just holding back?”

“I can’t tell, sir. It’s too dark. It’s just too damn dark. ”

At that moment, a shudder shook Ganymede, and its lower portion dragged. Cly and Deaderick leaned forward, and Houjin clutched at the scope to keep from falling—and from the other room came the rustle and tumble of knees and elbows clattering and rolling.

“What was that?” Houjin asked frantically. “What’s going on? I didn’t see anything!”

Deaderick took a stab at an answer. “Sandbar? Are we stuck? Captain—are we still—?”

“Not stuck, no,” he said, and shoved harder on the propulsion levers, and on the depth setters. “But caught. That’s what our friend up top was trying to tell us. Shit, all right. Hang on—and Huey, drop the scope back down, just for now. I’ve got to raise us to keep us going. We’re snagged on the sand, and if we don’t get some lift, we’ll have a hell of a time pulling ourselves loose. ”

“Yes, sir!”

“Everyone good in the charge bay?” Deaderick shouted the question.

“All good over here!” Josephine replied. “Just get us moving again!”

“We never stopped,” Cly swore, but he worked the levers with the passion of someone who was terrified he might be wrong.

Finally, with a lurch and a thrust, Ganymede came free and rose with a bound, breaking the surface—much to the captain’s discomfort. The waterline sloshed at the top of the window, briefly revealing the fire in the sky above, and a flash of red and gold, flickering tracer bullets, and small explosions as ammunition collided with armor.

“Huey, get your scope back up!” the captain ordered.

“Yes, sir!” the boy answered, and turned the crank to raise it again, even as he smushed his face against the visor and tried to look through it, though there was nothing yet to see. “Got it, sir. Hold us steady, sir—the water keeps washing over, and I can’t … All right, it’s good. I can see again. ”

“Great. Now tell me this—did the two nearest boats see us, when we breached just now?”

He hesitated. “They’re coming our way, or it might be they’re coming toward the sunk-down boats. ”