Airship Stowaway

Over a Dead Body

The familiar sight of Aeropolis through the cabin window brought an excited longing that was painful in its intensity. She stared at it, clenching her fists, hardly breathing.

There was a soft tap at the door. Lawson, asking her to accompany him to Monmouth’s study. He sounded regretful. She took a deep breath, and followed him.

Monmouth sat behind his desk, like a loathsome toad. Every aspect of him was repulsive, from the tiny black dots where his beard would have been if he had let it grow, to his soft, pink, manicured hands, clasped together on the desk in front of him.

“Well, Jo. What am I going to do with you?” He didn’t quite meet her gaze, and his attempt at a smile died when she continued to stare at him in stony silence.

He frowned. “Come to think of it, I don’t even know what your name is. Josephine? Joanne? I presume you just shortened your real name, to sound like a boy?”

She continued to stare at him, making no answer. She wasn’t going to give him one iota of help.

Monmouth looked more and more uncomfortable as the silence lengthened. Suddenly his face hardened.

“Look, you little bitch! Who do you think you are? I rescued you from that hell-hole! You owe me. And you’re going to repay me, in full, by doing whatever I want you to do. Is that clear?” His hands were now pressed hard against the desk, his nostrils flared, his eyes blazing with intensity. Joanna noticed with surprise that she wasn’t in the least bit intimidated. Before, when he had caught her in her cabin, she had been off-balance, vulnerable. She wasn’t now. She put her hands on her hips, and took a step towards the desk.

“No, it’s not clear at all. Whatever you did for me in Lhasa was for your own benefit, not mine. I don’t owe you anything. And I’m leaving now.” 

She turned to go, but Monmouth jumped up from his chair and rushed around the desk to stand in front of her. “Over my dead body!” His voice hurt her ears. Spittle landed on her face.

She shrugged. “Have it your way.” She dropped into a fighting stance, and before Monmouth could even raise his fists, she punched him, hard, on the nose. His head jerked back, spraying blood, and she followed up with a rapid combination of blows to his body, catching him in the short ribs, and then driving her fist deeply into his solar plexus.

Monmouth doubled over, making strangled gasping sounds, and then collapsed onto his Persian rug, where blood from his nose dripped into the intricate patterns. He was pathetic, and weak, and vulnerable, and this infuriated her. She drew back her foot to kick him in the teeth, when she felt hands on her shoulders.

She spun round to confront her attacker, punching out even as she turned, but Lawson’s hands shot out, fast as a striking cobra, and fastened around her wrists. She glared at him, but he looked back at her calmly.

“That’s enough, Jo. You need to go now.”

She stared at him, panting, until his words sank in. Then she took a deep breath, and dropped her shoulders. Lawson released her hands.

“Come on. I’ll walk out with you.” He shepherded her out of the door. She paused on the threshold, gave a last contemptuous look backwards at the fallen man, and then squared her shoulders.

At the hatch, she waited while Lawson rotated the wheel, and then swung it outwards. She stepped through. Late afternoon sunlight streamed across main deck, bathing the airships and people in a golden glow. She turned to face Lawson, standing in the hatchway. The central structure of Aeropolis loomed over the airship. She got the sudden urge to run around it, as if it were blocking her path still.

“Good luck, Jo.”

“Thank you, Lawson.” She turned to go, then stopped, looking back. Lawson paused in his action of closing the hatch, waiting for her to continue. 

“Why do you stay with him?”

He frowned. “His Lordship is my master. I am his servant. It’s not for me to decide whom I serve.” He gave a nod, and swung the hatch to.

She walked around the airship, slowly at first, then more quickly, when the base of the central core came into view. A huge weight lifted off her shoulders, as she strode across the deck towards the promenade. Her excitement grew as she pictured her mother’s face. She could almost feel the warm embrace, and she felt the smile take over her face.

A passing apprentice scowled at her. Once she would have looked away, tried to shrink into herself, afraid of being shouted at, or worse. Now, she returned his gaze confidently, and was gratified to see him look down, then away. And if he hadn’t, I would have made him sorry he didn’t! Something like the anger she had felt towards Monmouth still burned brightly within her. A quiet voice at the back of her head urged caution, but she didn’t care. She revelled in her strength and her power. She marched towards the core like a soldier returning from war, in triumph.