Emma's knuckles whitened, her fingers wrapped around the binoculars, watching the Dresden for any sign of gunners, hip pushed against the railing. The winds started throwing rain like tiny needles against her face and hands, buffeting her body.

The Vicious Fall shuddered, shook, and climbed. Thank the gods of the ship was rising, and Emma allowed herself a little smile. The wind from the storm slammed against the balloon, then ebbed only to rise and hit again. Heavy waves far below reflected the storm waters raised and fell in concert. The Dresden was dropping below the Fall.

"More height helm," Emma yelled back, and the chorus of crew echoed the response as the order moved down the rail to the wheelhouse.

"Aye, captain, more height." helmsmen called out. Reo Iti placed his hand on Emma's shoulder.

"Captain. Captain, can you hear me?" he asked. Emma did not move; looking directly ahead under Reo Iti's hand, he could feel her shoulder, and the muscles felt tight and hard as steel.

"Why are we not climbing? I want more height." Emma asked quietly.

"CAPTAIN. Your attention is needed." Reo Iti gave Emma's shoulder a shake.

"What!?" Emma barked back, dropping the binoculars around her neck and blinking repeatedly, noting the ship's vibration and the engines' pitch ringing into the compartment.

"Reo, where are we in the arch of the climb?" Emma asked.

"Captain, the winds are keeping the arch low and slow. As we started to get height on them, they moved forward, making us have to climb more sharply up." Reo said and stretched out his arm and pointed to the Dresden.

"Which is why our engine is complaining so much?" Emma questioned, then fired another command without an answer. "Helm, I am going to call for a fall. Get her ready." Emma continued.

"Aye, a fall is coming." came the response of the helmsmen. Emma moved into the wheelhouse with Reo on her heels. The helmspersons grabbed a speaking tube to call. "Falling soon. Too your positions," he said, placing a plug in the tube. He lowered his head and breathed out in a long breath.

* * *

The Dresden inched forward and was less than two hundred meters before the Vicious Fall. The winds and the storm had enveloped them both. The engines were screaming, and the wind was pushing on the ship's exposed belly. Emma conceded, if only to herself, that they were standing still.

"Helm, are you ready to fall?" Emma called.

"Ready." the helmsmen responded with a bit of chuckle.

"Then do it," Emma commanded. The helmsmen looked up at a small rope looped above him and gave it three tugs. A bell rang out in the ship.

Three crewmen positioned in the ship's balloon held the end of different ropes and nets. The ropes intricately wound through and around pullies. And in turn, the ropes pulled on a net inside the balloon. Finally, the net wrapped around the hundreds of small free-floating sealed packets of gas that filled the central core of the balloon were all pulled out of the nose of the balloon back into the aft.

Emma watched from inside the wheelhouse. From her viewpoint, the leading edge balloon folded and flipped back on itself like laundry on the line on a windy day as her crew pulled on the balloon's insides. Emma moved to the front of the cabin and placed one foot on the wall.

Following her queue, the others save for the helmsmen did the same. The Helm rang four bells at that, and the Vicious Fall did the one thing that makes it truly special. It started to fall, tilting forward, and the cabin wall became its floor. The crew felt weightless for a handful of moments; then, the ship began to descend.

"Captain, we are 13 degrees down," called the Helm.

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"Aye, helm, give me an update at two scores or more," Emma replied, looking at her feet as the Dresden advanced on the Fall, and yet still it inched up the portal slowly out of her view.

"40 degrees down bubble, we're dropping fast now, heading to knock on Neptune's roof," Helm called.

"That is one problem solved. Who had eyes on the Dresden she? We have the tops of our heads to her now." Emma lurched forward, turning her head to the left and right; Emma saw she was not alone. Helm had his feet in the air and arse up, hanging half over the wheel. Reo Iti had fallen entirely and was on his back next to her.

"Captain!" A muffled scream came from before her outside the ship. Looking forward, Emma could see a person swinging from a line.

"Sharon, is that you?" Emma screamed back. "You know. You're not meant to be off the ship without my permission?" Emma called out

"The Dresden has a line on us, and the hooks are deep," Sharon yelled.

Emma rushed to the cabin wall to come to a halt by the speaking tube. She pulled a sizeable porcelain-handled lever attached to the wall, triggering a steam whistle in three short bursts. Then, a high-pitched scream sounded throughout the ship. Men already on edge jumped to life and out of Emma's way as she left the wheelhouse and sped past them. Reo Iti was fast on her heels.

"If they have a line on us," Reo yelled from behind.

"We are not going anywhere, I know that!" Emma said as they jumped through the bulkhead door into the boiler room.

Emma's eyes met with the two boiler room stokers. Both of them

were covered in soot, sweat, and fear. The principal engineer, a stocky lady in a blue peacoat, looked back at her and then over to the bay door, putting her hands on the lever and shrugged. Mr. Wolf was standing to the right of the door across from the other engineer, a slender gunt man, his name and face obscured by the layers of coal dust.

"Well, Captain, you want to see how bad it gets?" asked Mr. Wolf.

"Mr. Wolf, where there is a fight, you always seem to be the first person I see." Emma shook her head and smirked.

"Crank that lever, and let's see the flotsam on which we have run aground." Reo finally rounded in the room.

The bay doors dropped open, and the winds poured into the room, lowering the temperature. Everyone instinctively put on a pair of goggles pulled from resting around their necks or in unseen pockets. The boiler stokers stood with their backs to the wall while the other three looked at each other.

"What next, Captain?" asked Reo.

"I am thinking a lot of killing 'em!" interjected Mr. Wolf, who flashed a quick smile at Emma, then spat on the blade of his clever.

"We tried that last time, and it didn't work out very well," Emma replied.

"I'm still alive. That's good enough for me," Mr. Wolf cocked an eyebrow, popping it out from under the rim of his goggles.

"Well, then, if that's our course of action! Let's have a look and see if we can get the bloodshed started," Reo smiled joyfully, with sarcasm soaking the words.

The others watched as Reo knelt, then on all fours. He took a deep breath, poked his head into the blue, and pulled it back.

"I couldn't see gunners on the superstructure," Reo spoke to the room before poking his head back into the raw of the winds.

"They have a line on us. It's about halfway between the bow and the bulkhead. Son of a bitch," Reo jerked his body back as a bolt tore past him, burying itself into the wood to the right of his peripheral vision.

"They are shooting at us," Mr. Wolf shouted. He pulled a pistol, firing at the Dresden as he circled the bay doors.

"Stand down, you fool!" Reo screamed at Mr. Wolf.

"You know the rules," Reo continued. Mr. Wolf blinked at him repeatedly.

"They shoot at me; I shoot at them!" Mr. Wolf said. "No one shoots at a balloon, or all die is a stupid rule," Mr. Wolf spat the words out, grabbed the bolt embedded in the wall, and shook it at the Reo.

"Keep focused for the sake of all that is good in the world. We have a problem that we need to solve," Emma chastised both men as she grabbed the bolt from Mr. Wolf.

Emma held the bolt in her gloved hand and deftly spun it end over end as if it were the head of a pinwheel. It spun. Emma stiffened her grasp, and the whirling bolt stopped fast in her grip. The barbed end of the bolt pointed to the cabin roof—a metal arrowhead. The maker's tool marks were noticeable. It was cheaply made to be expendable. Attached to the wooden shaft by pitch and leather, Emma gave the bolt another half spin. She examined the brass cartridge that would have sent it on its way attached to the end. Scratched into the side of the cartridge was a single word: Parlay.

"This should not be here," Emma thought to herself. She pulled the cartridge off the bolt and dropped the bolt into the open air. The winds caught it and immediately swept it away out of view.

"What is this codswallop all about, then?" asked Mr. Wolf.

Emma tapped the cartridge against her palm, and a small piece fell into Emma's hand. She carefully opened the scrape and read, 'I have something for you!'.

"I am not sure just yet. However, it would seem we are invited to tea, crumpets, and a bit of a natter," Emma said.

"Yes, a natter. That one, the mad hatter master of the southern sea, wants to see us and be all gentlemen-like." Reo replied. Emma looked at Reo Iti and Mr. Wolf. Both her most trusted lieutenants had turned ashen at the possibilities of this meeting.

A hand slapped on the deck next to Emma's foot from outside the ship, then a head and the other arm. "Can some slack jaw lend a hand? I want in." Sharon pleaded.