In the rush to escape Jupiter realized they still had all of the gems. He wondered if that was a good idea.

He glanced at Gan and his crew, then at the gems in the bottom of the hull, amongst the mud and water. They appeared to be nothing very special. Sure, they might be huge precious emeralds but also chunks of colored glass instead. That these things powered the skyships struck Jupiter as even stranger than the blue glowing stuff from the manta eggs.

The glowing of the kheel seemed to mean that power lay within them. Somehow.

And Jupiter sensed a sort of logic to the way the kheel worked. When spun up it acted like a wheel on a bicycle, stabilizing the hull. But then it stopped sideways movement in space, as if it connected with something and held onto it. Jupiter shook his head. It made no sense except he knew it to be true, even as he refused to think of it as some sort of perpetual motion device. All movement of the kheel required another force, one he could see. It would not move up down, or forward and back unless pushed. So the kheel in some way just neutralized gravity and created an inertia perpendicular to the spin of the wheel. Like it floated in some unseen aether that affected it but not things in the rest of the world.

‘It’s a strange sort of physics… but it is physics. I’m sure of it. That this weird parallel universe has some differences is not surprising. Or at least no more bonkers that getting here in the first place.’

Jupiter wondered again where they were and how to get back home. Both of them.

‘We should have stuck together.’

‘Joopah,’ Gan called out. ‘You are to sail to Vanukam. But you are not taking the most direct route.’

‘We can not sail straight into the wind, but at an angle to it.’

‘I do not understand. We sail into the wind, why not there?’ Gan pointed off the bow to the Vanukam where the tall towering pylons held the huge naval capital ships.

‘I will tack, and turn to the other direction.’ Jupiter hauled in the sail, and pulled the tiller towards himself. ‘Lee-oh…’ he shouted and slipped into the hull as the bout turned into the wind.

The sail flapped an instant as it swung across. The manisaur in the hull ducked their head but too slow. They got a blow to the head as the boom swung over. Jupiter flung himself out on the outrigger platform over the legs of the marines sprawled there, and hauled in the sail in one motion.

The Jupiter steadied and powered on with the sail on the opposite tack.

‘This is not the right direction either. Confound you Joopah. Do you not understand…’

‘Gan. I do understand… it’s you that doesn’t. I can sail into the wind, but only so much. I need to balance the forces of lift and drag, and the shape of the sail… and…’ Jupiter sighed. ‘Forget it. I am Vam’lama… Captain Jupiter. And trust me when I tell you I am sailing as best I can.’

‘Harumph…’ Gan subsided into the hull and glared in the direction he wished to go. ‘If you are toying with me…’

‘From what I see, no other sailing boat could even do as well as The Jupiter. So you will have to trust you.’

‘I will trust you Joopah with your magic. But you are not Vam’lama… not yet.’

‘Good. It is my magic. But it has limitations.’ Jupiter said.

Then under his breath he spoke to himself, or perhaps to Breeze. ‘I’m still working all this out. There is science behind the kheel, and this antigravity stuff. It just seems like magic.’

And he realized the truth of that thought. To the manisaurs the flying was less surprising than the ability to sail into the wind. That was not so strange. He had heard some crazy ideas from non-sailors about how sails worked… and even his science teacher at school sometimes seemed more confused and trusting of bonkers theories from old books. Jupiter knew from experience how to use a sail, and why they worked… and how to adjust and tune them to go fast. Tyler Orr from Corsair Bay had told him that a lot trial and error, and prototyping was still used to design sails and even the wings of airplanes as theories didn’t quite fit reality. And when they used computers, they created 3D models, just like real world ones.

‘Perhaps there is some magic there after all?’ He shook his head. ‘Nah. Magic is just undiscovered science.’

‘Vam’lama, time to turn once more,’ said Gan.

Jupiter grinned. Perhaps the surly marine would come around to trusting him. ‘Lee-oh.’ Jupiter pushed the tiller, and slipped across to the opposite tack. This time the marine ducked their head low and avoided being hit. The Jupiter tilted and then settled level. They were quiet as they rushed onwards, the rudders foaming in the water and the rush of wind the only sound.

And Vanukam loomed close now.

‘Can you see where we need to go?’ Jupiter said.

‘There, straight ahead.’ Gan pointed to a skyship that floating on its pontoon under one of the high pylons that carried the operational skyforts.

Jupiter grinned, the manisaur had learned, and had asked for the turn just on the lay line for their target. He headed a little higher to slow them a little, but also so they had room to bear away should the wind change.

The sound of the fight came to him now. He craned his neck and stared at the skyships that swung away to the east on the huge beams at the top of the pylons.

‘Ah… we’re not going up there are we?’

‘No. My tarkham and I are. You humans have no head for heights.’

‘So you keep saying. What do you want me to do?’

‘Stay close. Avoid capture.’

‘And try not to get blown away in this storm.’

As they crossed the now chaotic Narushkam he was glad The Jupiter sailed above the waves and not through them. Whipped to whitecaps by the rising wind it would be all too exciting now.

He used his foot to slow the kheel and The Jupiter eased into the dark waters, then swung The Jupiter alongside the floating skyfort as they slowed to a crawl. Gan in the bow reached out to hold her steady while his crew scrambled off. The rocking of the boat was violent, the boom swung back and forth, and Jupiter kept his head low. When he raised his head again the marines had disappeared. Cries rang out from sentries. At the sound of running on the dock Jupiter turned behind him. Enemy manisaurs poured onto the dock, then headed for The Jupiter.

Alone now, with just Breeze for company, The Jupiter bumped against the dock as Jupiter swung the rudder back and forth to move them away. Breeze leapt into the bow and pushed, but the soldiers were close. One stepped onto the outrigger and The Jupiter tilted over. The boom and sail swung and just as the soldier had steadied themselves, the boom hit, and sent them into the water with a squawk. Another leap across, avoided the boom, but Breeze crashed into them and together they hit the water. Jupiter managed to get the wind pushing The Jupiter away from the dock. But…

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

‘Breeze!’

The imp was in the water clambering on top of the floundering manisaur soldier. And Jupiter realized at once why they hated water so much. They were buoyant enough to not sink, but somehow they floated too high to get much forward motion by swimming. ‘They’re land creatures…’

Breeze made a farting noise, leapt from the torso of the manisaur and landed in the water. He dived and with a couple of strokes pulled up next to The Jupiter and climbed onto the hull. Jupiter pulled the tiller towards himself, and blown backwards by the wind the bow swung away from the dock where the floundering manisaur had reached safety. Now the sail filled, and The Jupiter steadied, poised as if on a precipice.

Jupiter let the sail luff, and the wind drifted them back well away from the manisaur attackers. He scanned the pylon, the skyfort, the dock — but could not see Gan and his tarkham troupe. He heard them though. There were more rebels fighting in Vanukam tonight.

‘Great. How as this a good idea? But I guess you wanted this…’ Jupiter sighed and eyed the manisaurs readying their weapons to shoot at him. He pulled the sail in and they moved off faster and out to what he thought a safe distance.

‘It’s just you and me Breeze.’

Breeze made a farting noise, and shook his waterlogged fur-feathered arms and body. Water sprayed in an arc that hit Jupiter square in the face.

‘Yes. I think you’re great company Breeze.’

The imp crouched as if to leap at him.

‘Hey, dude? Don’t you understand sarcasm when you hear it.’

Breeze crouched lower, his head down, but his eyes were locked on Jupiter. The threat of attack remained. Jupiter shrank back in alarm.

The imp bounced up and did a somersault that threatened to send him into the harbour and then raised his hand for a…

‘High… five…’

Jupiter laughed then. He was not alone, and the company was fine.

Just then a massive crunching boom came from above, from the top of the huge pylon. One of the Vanziyaq skyforts on the cross beam moved. Down…

Not moving. Falling. And fast.

The massive vessel seemed fall in slow motion. At first.

Within moments the huge wooden ship hit the skyship floating on the pontoon. Chaos erupted across a huge front. Debris soared high.

‘Breeze. Hold on,’ Jupiter shouted. A wave of water roared towards them. He turned the outrigger away so the hull pointed towards the rush of water and debris. In a second the wave lifted them in the air, and The Jupiter shot up and forward in a rush of wind. The sail shook and for a moment they slipped sidelong through the air. Then their flight steadied.

Breeze had spun up the kheel and they began to fly for real as the water crashed beneath them.

Jupiter saw devastation spread where they had been just a minute before.

He let the sail out and they slowed. The kheel too spun down and they drifted a little lower. A mess of floating debris filled the harbour almost as if there was no water left just the pile of moving wood chips, and timber. Two skyforts had been obliterated.

‘Gan?’ Jupiter whispered in wonder.’ Did you do that?’ He stared up at the pylon where one skyfort still swung in the increasing wind as the storm approached.

The Jupiter flew close to the water, but not in it. He dared not go lower as the mess in the water would damage the rudders. And with no one else to help adjust the lean Jupiter found it almost impossible to steer. Only by balancing the angle of the sail to the wind could he manage a single direction. He hunted for a clear patch of water so he could head away from Vanukam.

With the Jupiter edging closer to the water he signaled Breeze to spin the kheel to raise them a little. But Jupiter knew he could control their height with ease. The kheel raised them in the air a little, but it did not push them up or down, Jupiter used the angle of the hull to aim them. Like a dart might. Or wings…

Just then he heard a cry. A manisaur. A call of hurt and fear. A call for help.

Jupiter scanned for the source of the shout. He saw that Breeze had also heard the sound and searched under the sail off to starboard.

There on the water ahead. Clinging to a board. A floundering manisaur. Beside floated the body of another manisaur, unmoving. Dead or unconscious since Jupiter figured that no manisaur could stand water enough to be motionless for long as that and be alive.

The Jupiter skimmed towards them. With a squawk the manisaur cowered away from the approaching flyer. Jupiter saw more floating bodies. The attacking soldiers had been thrown into the water by the devastation of the dropped skyfort. He saw bodies of other manisaurs low in the water, just about submerged.

‘So they don’t float after all.’

A clear dark stretch of water opened up. Wind and luck had kept a section free of debris. Jupiter brought them low, and he reached out a foot to slow the kheel, but Breeze already slowed its spin.

‘Down… slow… down…’

With a bump they were in the water, Jupiter turned them into the wind, and then on a tack back to the floating debris.

He knew he could not let the manisaur drown. No one deserved that fearful death. He sheeted in the sail, and they sailed forward. He shook his head at an enquiring Breeze who took his had from the wickerwork of the kheel. In a minute they were pushing through the debris. Bangs and thuds from larger chunks threatened to break the outriggers, so he slowed even further.

The wind had blown the debris clear from the docks. But so had the floating manisaur. Jupiter could not see them and his heart hammered in fear for the fallen manisaur. And then a splash of water from the edge of his vision. The manisaur had sunk low in the water now — just hanging on to the wooden beam. Then they fell under.

Jupiter steered towards where he last saw them. At the last second, he swung alongside letting the wind take the sail. He climbed out to the side of the outrigger platform.

‘Breeze. Help me.’ Jupiter crouched low and reached out. But he could not grab the manisaur. With their head just above the water now, their aura flashed alarm in the moonlight as a wave washed over them. The storm had begun to raise waves now. A gust of wind pushed the drowning manisaur out of reach.

Then Breeze had jumped to the beam, and reached out a hand. Jupiter grabbed it, and held on. They pulled and drew The Jupiter alongside the beam, and Jupiter looped a leg across it. He sat almost on both beam and outrigger, a precarious perch now the wind had mounted in force.

The manisaur dropped under the water. Their auras flooded and blank. Jupiter reached out and grabbed at the manisaur’s hand, but it slipped from his grasp. He let got his hold on the outrigger, and gripping both outrigger and beam with his legs he stretched both arms out to the drowned manisaur. Somehow he got a hold of their shoulder weapon sash, and pulled. Jupiter’s head slipped under the water, but he had the manisaur in a tight hold now.

He strained, and panicked as the urge to breathe rose in him. Then he lifted just free of the surface. He took a breath, coughed. And then reached his hand out to The Jupiter. Breeze took hold, and with locked hands, together they pulled the drowned manisaur out of the water, onto the outrigger platform.

The manisaur’s head lolled to the side, and seawater ran from their mouth in a stream.

‘Too late,’ Jupiter said in despair.

Jupiter cleared the manisaur’s mouth. He noted again how strange their teeth and front plate were. The tongue was long and thin, and not flat like he had expected. But the mouth was clear.

‘I’ve no idea how to resuscitate a manisaur… but…’

He ran his hands over the creature’s lower body and breast bone. Then he pushed. He felt a compression, more water came from the mouth. The heart was a flutter in the centre of their chest.

‘So you’re alive. Somehow.’ So he pushed again. More water ran out. He repeated this until no more came. Then he rolled the manisaur on their front, and did the same again. He pushed hard. It was like squeezing a lemon. The body was heavy, as if it had absorbed water like a sponge, but he rolled the manisaur on one side, and then over onto the other. He pushed, squeezed, and manipulated water out from all the places within the body almost like he had wrung out a towel. Soon until only puffs of air came from the mouth and nose.

‘You’re a strange, strange, beastie alright.’

He placed his hand on the manisaur’s chest — the heartbeat seemed stronger. Jupiter jerked back in surprise when the chest rose in a quick intake of breath. Then another. The manisaur convulsed and threw up a mass of evil smelling liquid.

‘What the?… I know the water here tastes awful… But…’

The manisaur’s aura flickered for the first time, and the head rotated about.

‘Hi there,’ Jupiter said. ‘Back from the dead.’

The manisaur groped over it’s chest as if it searched for something.

‘You’re not going to kill me now that I’ve saved you… Are you?.’

Breeze gave a squawk of alarm. Jupiter spun towards him.

‘Oh shit.’

The Jupiter had drifted close to the broken dock and the downed and smashed skyforts. Now, as the storm winds increased, the remains of the wrecked vessel had begun to topple. A huge mast, strung with ropes and rigging, fell from above towards The Jupiter.

Jupiter pulled on the tiller, then hauled in the mainsheet, frantic to get sailing. Away. To anywhere.

As the tangle of rigging fell towards The Jupiter they moved much too slow away from under the mast. It hit the water in a spray of water that dashed over The Jupiter’s deck and sail. A snarl of ropes snagged the tiller, and wrenched them about. Jupiter fell, caught by a knot of rope, and pulled towards the water. He fell on his back to the deck, pressed down by the weight of ropes across his chest.

The rescued enemy manisaur loomed over Jupiter. And in their hand flashed a long knife.