God. God was one of the new words that Iris had recently learned. Often appearing alongside words like ‘moral’ or ‘ethic’, god or gods as far as Iris knew, referred to any being ranging from someone with a significant amount of power and legacy to a, or in some cases, the supreme creator itself.
God was the only word that Iris could think of when she laid her eyes on the Steel Whale for the first time.
Elliot had escorted Evalyn and Iris to their destination, and they had seen that destination an entire half hour before they arrived.
The mass of metal loomed over the landscape itself, dominating it not only by its figure but the shadow it cast over the plains of rural Geverde, mimicking an eclipse itself. Indeed, its shape resembled the marking on Evalyn’s cheek. However, the count of its fins was six rather than two. Massive oars the size of entire towers lay dormant for the time being. They only led Iris’s eyes to the body of the beast. A mighty bow that gently curved from bottom to top. Along its back were small towers and buildings where minuscule specks took off and buzzed about in the surrounding air space.
However, its cannons were perhaps the most striking. The artillery in their size and the cannons in their numbers littered the ship from bow to stern, or rather, tail. Like maggots on a corpse, they were numerous.
Elliot turned to Iris, her backside not touching the seat as she desperately leaned out the window for a better look at the great behemoth. Magic did not radiate outwards, instead she sensed hundreds and thousands of smaller pieces, combining to create a single mass. It was like a city in itself.
“That thing flies,” he said. And Iris believed it. The fact that something like the Steel Whale even existed at all meant anything was possible.
Iris imagined it ploughing one of the mountains she could make out in the distance. They were far, far north of her and shrouded by a haze, but Iris recognised them. A landmark she was oddly familiar with. But for now, the mountains were dull. Boring compared to what was in front of her.
As the car neared the landing zone, they reached a small building, barely big enough for one person. Two men stood at the gate, both wearing the same clothes and holding onto boxy metal instruments.
“Iris, put your head back in the car for now,” Evalyn said, “and keep the window down.”
The car slowed as a guard in the road signalled them to stop. Elliot rolled down his window and greeted the unimpressed officer with a smile. He produced what looked to be thin, small books from his coat and began to talk. The other man began to slowly circle the vehicle, running his eyes over every inch while he clutched his weapon. Trigger, barrel, handle.
He started with the front, opening the bonnet.
He moved to the other side, where Evalyn greeted him with an awkward smile and even further papers, pointing to her rifle in the back seat. He stuck his head through the window. A menacing glare swept inside the car, and a gloved hand opened the glove box. Seemingly satisfied, he moved closer and closer to Iris.
She did not want the man to come closer. He wasn’t like Evalyn or Elliot. He was someone she didn’t know; with something she knew was dangerous. The adrenaline made her jitter in her seat as the man stood outside her doorway. Her vision tunnelled on the man’s finger, gently brushing on his gun’s trigger guard. He leaned in closer, and the gun went out of Iris’s line of sight, and she only panicked further.
“Don’t worry; we’re here,” came a whisper from the front seat. Iris turned her head and found Elliot looking back at her. His sharp eyes gained some warmth, if only for a split second. By the time Iris turned back, the officer had already moved on to the car’s boot.
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There was something intangible in the way of the men hurting Iris. Some mutual trust between strangers that she was yet to understand.
Elliot rolled the car past the gates into the belly of the beast, and Iris was greeted by a city hidden inside. The vehicle stopped on a platform, and it began to shift upwards. It ascended through the layers and layers of buildings, railings, pipelines, platforms, vehicle bays and living quarters, creating a mish-mash patchwork of little lights as numerous as the ones of Excala.
Men and beaks alike walked the platforms, manned stations, drove vehicles, and worked away at whatever they were doing. From Iris’s perspective, they were like ants inhabiting a space just as complicated as the schedules they were following.
A metal city, not built from the ground up, but from the walls inwards. The sight and the sound surrounded her. The clanking of metal, shouting of orders, and roaring of engines filled her eardrums. From around her emanated booming voices.
“Maintenance crews, six through ten, stand by to receive fighter fuel.”
“Maintenance crews six through ten, standing by.”
“All personnel working lines sixty-five through to one hundred and four prepare for pipe replacement assembly.”
“Runway doors opening, clear for fighter assembly.”
“Control tower, fighters standing by.”
Elliot’s face soured, and he opened the car, stepping on the moving platform. He looked around, meandering to the platform’s edge and called out to someone standing on a beam not too far away.
“Hey! I thought the fighters were scheduled for ten-thirty!”
The beak reached under his mask and fiddled with his voice box until his words boomed over the cacophony of the Steel Whale.
“Everything’s shifted up an hour!”
“Ugh!” Elliot returned to the car and slumped in his chair, fiddling with the pedals. “We’re going to be a bit late. Thank god I tried to be early. Program leader’s going to kick my ass.”
“It’s not your fault if you didn’t know.”
“Yeah, well, I probably got a call this morning. You know, while I was sleeping in.”
Evalyn snorted and began to laugh.
By the time Evalyn emerged with Iris onto the open-air deck atop the runway control tower, two fighters had already been lined up below side by side. Evalyn recognised one as the newest Sidosian Air Force fighter. Sporting a modest wingspan and a single propeller engine, it was standard looks-wise. Any important distinctions were all made underneath the metallic shell.
On the other hand, the Royal Geverdian Air Force was a lot flashier. Although its colour was a dull grey, the design was that of a flying wing. Sleek, with a much broader wingspan closely resembling that of a bird. Its Magic had been borrowed from a Higher Order Spirit, one of distinct power and intelligence, but Evalyn knew little besides that. Planes were Elliot’s specialty, not hers.
Nine students walked up the stairs to the flight deck alongside Elliot, all in uniform.
“Marlow, Tannis, you’re up next. Get your asses down there when they’re ten minutes out. Got it?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Yes, sir.”
He shouted orders as he approached Evalyn and Iris and leaned over the railing to get a better look at the fighters.
“One of the kids is out cold with a fever, so I’m going to stand in for him.”
“How’s the class?”
Elliot chuckled grimly, the wind not being as kind to his shorter hair as it was to Evalyn’s or Iris’s. He looked back at the students, who had all begun chatting in anticipation of the take-off. Out of the corner of her eye, Evalyn watched as two pilots in full flight gear walked onto the runway and began to board their planes.
“Certainly charming to see Sidos’s newest generation. Lets me know that the S.A.F aren’t completely fucked without me. They remind me of myself when I was younger.”
“What, cocky?” Evalyn asked.
“Like a damn rooster. Marie should be here soon, by the way.”
Elliot, with his free hand, hauled a boxy radio he had been carrying onto the railing, balancing it before extending the wiry antenna. He turned it on, and Evalyn recognised the sound; she was keenly aware of it. It was the same radio he would sometimes steal from work, bring back and sit in front of as he relaxed, listening to the muffled chatter.
“Training group three fighters one and two, runway check.”
“Check.”
“Check.”
“Controls check.”
“Check.”
“Check.”
“Flaps check.”
…
“Check.”
“Check.”
“Final fuel check.”
“Check.”
“Check.”
“Training group three fighters one and two, you are clear for ignition; I repeat, you are clear for ignition.”