boarding that thing. I want that sphere.'
'Right-o,' said Malvery. He made for the door, but Frey stopped him.
'Oh, Malvery? One more thing. Tell Crake to wake up Bess. We're gonna need her good and angry.'
Twenty
Pinn was having a rare old time.
He swooped and rolled and plunged, laughing maniacally.
He sprayed tracer fire into the night, chasing half-seen phantoms through the rain. He yelled with joy whenever thunder boomed around him.
Visibility was terrible. The other fighters were flying well below full speed, afraid of a mid-air collision. Pinn concluded, therefore, that they were all pussies. He screamed through the skies at a speed that bordered on suicidal. Pinn was a man who lived without fear of death, because he was too dim to imagine it. For him, this was a happy hunting ground.
The fighters orbited their massive parent craft, which were locked in a deadly slugfest. Cannons blazed along their flanks. Turrets boomed and heavy machine guns tracked targets through the sky. Tactics had been all but abandoned as the two leviathans blasted chunks out of each other. It was all about who was the toughest, who could load and fire the fastest, who had the biggest guns. But the Storm Dog's surprise attack had put the Delirium Trigger on the back foot, and she was fighting for her survival.
Something shot out in front of Pinn, right to left, slashing through the storm. Too fast to see whether it was an ally or an enemy, but he felt the cockpit shudder as it passed. It had been mere metres from taking the nose off his aircraft and sending them both to a fiery grave.
He banked hard and set off in pursuit. Before him was only rain and darkness, but he knew that craft had to be out there somewhere. Then, a burst of machine guns, and his target was lit in the muzzle flash of its own weapon. He saw the telltale shape of a Norbury Equaliser: a rounded, bulbous bow end; straight wings, clipped at the end: a lean, narrow profile with a kinked back. Pinn grinned at the sight. He opened up the throttle and closed in.
Another craft raced past, close enough to make the Skylance shimmy in the turbulence. In this storm and at this speed, by the time he saw something in his path it would be far too late to evade. If he was going to hit something, he'd hit it. No point worrying, then. Pinn ignored the danger and concentrated on his target.
Tracer lire floated eerily through the blackness ahead of him. Some invisible conflict in the storm. For every blazing bullet he could see, there were five, just as deadly, that he couldn't. Harkins used to talk about them all the time, those unseen bullets in tracer fire. They were the ones that would get you, he said. But Pinn preferred to believe that if you couldn't see them, they weren't there.
He spotted his target as it fired again, and lined up on its tail. Harkins was yammering something in his ear, but he wasn't paying any attention. He'd learned to tune out his fellow outflyer's near-constant state of panic in a firefight. Instead he flexed his finger over the trigger on his flight stick and waited for the right moment.
'Here it comes, you son of a bitch,' he muttered.
Lightning flashed and thunder roared. Pinn squeezed the trigger, but the Equaliser banked suddenly. The pilot had spotted him in the lightning flash. Bullets tore through the air around the Equaliser, smacking into its rear end. It dodged away, trailing smoke from its thruster. Pinn shot past, banked hard, came back around; but by then his target had disappeared.
'Did I get him?' he said to himself, searching the storm. 'Did I get him?'
In the distance, there was a dull explosion, and an aircraft was consumed by flames, heading earthwards like a meteor. His quarry, or someone else's? He didn't know. He'd claim it anyway, but it would have been nice to be sure.
Pinn had become detached from the fray, so he turned the Skylance back towards it, seeking new targets. The Storm Dog and the Delirium Trigger fought at the heart of the battlefield, high above the moors, flashing monsters of iron and steel. The smaller fighters hung close by, preying on each other.
His eyes flickered over the instrument panel on his dash, then settled on the ferrotype of Lisinda that hung from it. It was dangling and spinning on its chain, showing her face in teasing glimpses. He saddened at the sight of her. For a short time, lost in the thrill of combat, he'd forgotten the empty ache in his guts, the sad, grey feeling that had settled on him lately. But one glimpse was enough to bring it all back.
What was she doing now? There was no date on that letter, no telling when it was sent. A month ago? Three? Was her new husband already enjoying her, this imposter who'd taken his place? Was she with him now, all creamy thighs and soft breasts, surging blankets and sighs? He'd never known her that way. She was too sacred, too pure to be sullied by anyone but a hero. But this newcomer had tricked her somehow, maybe even forced her into yielding to him.
The thought made him furious. He was no longer sad; he was consumed by a bitter, savage anger that flooded through his veins like molten metal.
'What's that weird grinding sound?' Harkins queried in his ear.
Pinn unclenched his teeth and gave a terrible howl of rage. Harkins squealed in fright. A flash of lightning lit up the battlefield, and a crack of thunder rocked the Skylance. Pinn saw aircraft swooping in the distance. He felt a deep need to avenge himself on the whole world. Those Equaliser bastards would be a good start.
The Skylance's engines shrieked as he flew at reckless speed towards the aircraft. Lightning, muzzle flashes and tracer fire drew him towards an Equaliser that was heading away from him. He gave chase, hoping to catch the pilot unawares, hoping to blast his sorry arse out of the sky before he even knew what was happening.
Then suddenly the air was full of bullets. Tracer fire, flitting all around his craft. Sharp impacts as his hull and wings were hit. Pinn looked frantically over his shoulder, yelled in alarm as the saw an Equaliser hanging on his tail, and rolled out of the way.
'Pinn? Are you alright?' It was the Cap'n, but Pinn didn't have time for a chat right now.
'I think ... I mean, Cap'n, it sounds like he's gone crazy!' Harkins opined.
'Pinn? Have you gone crazy?'
'Will you both bloody shut up?' Pinn cried. 'I've got an Equaliser on my tail!'
'Get over there and help him out!' Frey ordered Harkins.
'Where?'
'Near the frigates!' Pinn shouted. He banked hard, but the Equaliser stuck to him like glue. Just ahead, a bolt of lightning struck the Storm Dog. fizzing off her black hull. The Storm Dog shrugged it off and kept firing.
He heard the chatter of his pursuer's guns, but this time he was ready for it and he dodged. Another spray came out of nowhere; he barely pulled away in time. He twisted his neck, searching for the source. Another Equaliser, coming in high at seven o'clock. Pinn swore. Two of them, ganging up. Their cowardice infuriated him.
'Alright, shitwads.' he snarled. I'll give you a chase.'
He broke hard to starboard, slipping out of the way of another volley of machine-gun fire. He'd caught a couple of hits, but the Skylance was still handling well. The Storm Dog and Delirium Trigger slid into view in front of him. He boosted the thrusters and arrowed towards them.
The sudden jump in speed threw his pursuers for a few seconds. They forgot about shooting at him while they concentrated on catching up. Pinn considered engaging the Skylance's racing afterburners, leaving them all choking on his fumes, but that would mean abandoning the fight and the Ketty Jay. In the mood he was in, he wasn't about to do that. He wanted to kill someone first.
By the time the Equalisers had got back within firing range, the frigates loomed large before them. They were flying alongside each other, lumbering through the black sky, cannons blasting. The space between them was a
