Adena descended the ladder and took in the scene. Casting a questioning look at Greg, she made a slow, cautious circuit of the bay. She checked the seals on the cargo boxes and prodded one of the lumps of flesh before returning to stand beside him at the door. Greg saw she looked pale beneath her olive skin.
"This is beyond my ken, Greg. Murriks roost in the city outskirts but they don't normally attack airships. I can't figure out what made them attack us and even break in here." She gestured around. "And whoever — or whatever — met them here is a lot stronger than two murriks combined. That, I really don't want to think about."
"So..." Greg glanced around. "The cargo hatch is secured from the inside. That means whatever did this is still in the gondola. I know it didn't get past us."
"The seals on the cargo are all intact." She kicked at one of the crates. The thump of leather on wood echoed.
"Then where is it now?"
Adena walked over to stand by his side. She glared at the goods stored in the center of the hold. "I have a hunch it's something to do with this consignment we're shipping for a customer back in PC. If so, I want the lot off my ship, soonest."
"Can't you open it?"
"Not if I want to void the bond and lose my fee. We've come too far and done too much for that to happen." She reached for the speaking tube mounted on the bulkhead. "Flight deck, this is the Captain. I want a thorough sweep of the ship, fore to aft. Nobody is to investigate alone. I want people in pairs at all times, and two guards on the cargo bay access hatch in the passageway."
An acknowledgment came and Adena hung up the mouthpiece. She shook her head. "Well, we can't do any more down here. Greg, come with me if you're fit enough."
Adena prowled the length and breadth of Oculus Nightingale, senses attuned to any sign of alarm or an intruder. The sweep took the best part of an hour and came up empty. Everything was as it should be aboard until they reached the passenger lounge. Zared lazed on the sofa, watching a crew woman make temporary repairs to the shattered window.
Greg looked around. "The murrik came in here, but I don't see the body."
Adena looked at the crewman. "Priscilla?"
Priscilla sketched a salute. "I pitched it overboard, skipper. It was stinkin' the place up." She looked at the supercargo with an expression of approval. "Mr. Zared shot it in the face with a revolver."
Adena frowned. "Is that so?"
Zared spread his hands and gave her a polite smile. "It's true, captain."
"Then I'll need your weapon. You did well to defend the ship, but the rules are, no firearms aboard." Adena held out her hand. Zared shrugged and produced the pistol, handing it over to her butt-first with a twinkle in his eye she didn't care for. Adena raised her eyebrows when she saw the nature of the weapon. "This is some piece."
"It sufficed."
She ensured the weapon was safe and thrust it through her belt. "You'll get it back when we dock in Penumbra City."
He gave her a polite smile which held a trace of mockery she didn't care for. "Whatever you say, Captain."
She frowned but decided against arguing. Instead she gestured to Greg Cole to precede her back into the corridor. He'd begun to hobble toward the end of the sweep but had gamely kept up. She clapped him gently on the shoulder. "Thanks, Greg. Go rest up. We'll be landing soon."
He looked relieved and headed back to his cabin while Adena went to hers.
When Adena arrived, Mr. Phibuli was sitting on his perch, wings hunched, gaze fixed on some distant point. Adena stripped off her gloves and walked over to stand in front of him. "Is there something you're not telling me, old bird?"
For a second he appeared not to hear. Adena knew the creature had keen hearing so she waited with growing impatience for him to react. Finally, he turned his head with a faint squeaking of bearings and regarded her. "No."
Adena held his gaze. "Why don't I believe you?"
The brass parrot merely turned his head away and went back to brooding. Adena flung up her hands in disgust and headed back to the bridge. She locked the door on the way out of her stateroom, knowing how easily Mr. Phibuli could bypass any lock — although she could never figure out how — but she wanted to make a point.
The flight deck crew seemed subdued when she returned to her station. Adena put it down to post-adrenal comedown after the fight against the murriks. Jake looked around and saluted as she entered. "All posts report secured from combat, Cap'n. We're remaining on alert."
"Good." She peered forward at the cityscape sliding by beneath. "How long until we reach the rendezvous?"
Jake glanced at the chronometer. "Five minutes."
Zared appeared on the flight deck, moving as silently as a dust devil whirling across a dark side plain. Greg Cole entered a few seconds behind him. Adena glanced at Zared's expression. The supercargo's face was inscrutable as he moved to the starboard observation blister. She shared a glance with Greg. He shook his head and eyed the other man's back.
Something's not right there.
Jake scanned the area with the binoculars. "Coming up on the rendezvous now, Cap'n. It appears to be a partially collapsed building."
He stepped aside so Adena could take his place. She looked in the direction he pointed.
A city block looked as if it had suffered severe bombardment during a war. Buildings were little more than shells, with the few walls remaining resembling broken teeth. One six-story building near the center of the block looked more substantial, three walls still standing and most of its roof beams intact.
