Greg felt defensive. "I can handle a gun. My job sometimes takes me to places where it's necessary to be ready to defend myself."
Adena didn't even blink. "Have you ever killed?"
He began to deny doing so, then thought of the mine. "The ogre overseers. I think I killed three of them, maybe more. That fight's all kind of hazy in my head."
"Did you enjoy it?" Her voice sounded mild but her eyes looked sharp, questioning.
"No. I killed because I had to."
Adena nodded and drew back. "Good answer. I've no time for those who kill for pleasure or compulsion." She checked the clock on the wall. It looked strange to Greg in some way that bothered him until he realized the face had ten hours. "I'll give you one of our air pistols. We use them on hydrogen ships like these to reduce the danger of fire. They have the added advantage of being nearly silent."
"I appreciate it, Adena."
"We're not far from the city limits." She glanced at his feet. "Are you up for a tour of the ship? You haven't had a chance since you came aboard. I can show you the highlights before I have to return to the flight deck."
"Sure!" Greg stood and tried to hide a wince as his feet protested the sudden activity. Adena gave him a censorious look and shook her head. Greg felt his face grow warm. "I'm an idiot." He reached for the cane.
"Better. Come on."
She led him into the passageway running along the center line of the gondola and forward to the flight deck. Jake saw her enter first. "Captain on deck!"
Adena waved to the flight deck crew. "As you were." She ushered Greg in. "This is the nerve center for Oculus Nightingale. Everything's controlled from here."
Greg advanced a few steps into the area and looked around. A profusion of polished brass, glass and fine wood met his gaze. Valves, levers and dials seemed to dominate what first looked like clutter. His engineer's eye soon saw it to be a compact and organized arrangement. A broad sweep of glass to the front and both sides gave a superb view of the terrain. To his right a companionway ladder rose to a hatch and presumably the interior of the envelope. He could see the elegant curves of the airship above. A small, screened area held a map table over which hung a bright light. The little area was occupied by a young Asian woman with jet-black hair and a pretty oval face. Distracted by their entrance, she glanced up and flashed Greg a smile before bending over her chart again.
The bridge crew numbered eight, from the navigator through the first officer standing by the wheel looking forward, the two helmsmen, and two other crew in charge of what appeared to be the ballast and venting controls. An engineer sat by the most complex board to the rear of the compartment, keeping watch on the dials and instruments relating to the airship's engines.
The last of the crew present, a large woman clad in a fleece-lined leather jacket and flying helmet, sat facing aft in a kind of pod set into the floor. The pod seemed far too small for her to fit, but she nested there as snug as a hen on a nest. A fine metal grill covered the opening to the pod so people could walk over it unhindered. As Greg watched, the woman pressed a pedal and the whole pod rotated, bringing what appeared to be a Gatling gun into view. He realized it was a gun-turret, its weapon locked and loaded ready for action. It reminded him the airship wasn't flying on a pleasure cruise, and the thought made him shiver.
He looked at Adena. "It's certainly impressive."
She wore an expression of quiet pride. "Thanks. She's a good ship. Here you see our bridge crew. We have engineers in the aft gondola looking after the engines, which we'll see in a while. All in all, we have twenty-four souls aboard."
"I see. You've been captain long?"
"Captain and owner for five years since my father died. I sailed aboard her under my dad's command for years before, though. Shall we take a look up top? You'll see what keeps us aloft."
Jake took a fleece-lined coat from a peg and handed it to Greg. "You'll need this. It's cold up there."
They toured the ship, from the bloated buff-colored gas bags within the envelope to the engineering deck and the individual gun positions dotted at strategic locations in the gondola and even atop the envelope. A lone gunner sat in his turret there, swiveling the mounting more to keep himself warm than to scan for threats. It reminded Greg of footage he'd seen of World War II bomber crews on raids over Germany and Japanese-held Pacific islands. Adena stood on a small platform attached to the ladder in the access tube below the gun position and gestured to the man.
"It gets cold up here, even by our standards. We have to swap out the gunners every hour or they wouldn't be able to take it."
"You need gunners here?" Greg stopped by her side and stared past the gunner and up at the thin veil of stars overhead.
"Definitely. I've not known a voyage where we didn't have to beat off some kind of threat. We have flying creatures here that could carry off a fully grown Overseer." She reached out to pat the wall of the tube in open affection. "The old girl's still here."
"Do you do much trade with the City of Night?"
"Quite a lot." She climbed a little further and stared up at the stars. Her profile looked noble and relaxed silhouetted against the dusting of stars. "The Pure Bloods have their needs, and their servants and
