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recover lost water weight.
The leather strap dangled around his forearm. "They're wise to you now. I'll
bet they have more artillery than that last one in place over the sacrificial
areas.
Ma Wi Jung will get hammered. She'll be far from spaceworthy."
"One more," John said.
Pepper broke the straps off the flask and leaned closer.
"Stop him," John ordered.
Two mongoose-men leapt on Pepper. The first smacked him in the face with the
butt of his gun, the other slipped a noose around Pepper's feet and yanked him
onto his side. All three fell to the ground, struggling. A third mongoose-man
in the corridor ran forward and put a knee to Pepper's chest and a gun on his
neck.
None of this could have been done without Pepper's being weakened by the
fighting. John was relieved when they stood up with Pepper between them bound
in ropes. The alternative, if Pepper had not fought and weakened, would have
been to surround him with guns again. A second showdown that would have ended
in many dead.
"Take him out on the dock. Keep him secure and feed him as much jerk chicken
and water as they can spare."
Pepper would break out quickly enough. But not soon enough to stop this last
foray. John avoided
Pepper's eyes as the mongoose-men dragged him away.
What a mess.
John closed his eyes as they dropped Pepper onto the ground. He watched the
thin trail of smoke coming out of the rear of the ship and checked over the
numerous holes in the ship's side, trying to remember if there was anything
critical nearby.
The more priests they had, the more likely they could force the Azteca to turn
around and go home.
Just one last run.
He closed the doors in the belly of the ship and took to the sky.
John angled the ship down, dropping toward the trees. But even as he did so,
he knew he was in trouble.
Several large guns had been towed into place, and they caught him in cross
fire. He dodged below the
Azteca artillery and to the ground. As he looked up, he knew getting back into
the air would be expensive.
Azteca waited on the ground for his thirty-nine mongoose-men.
Without Pepper they would face a slow, desperate fight.
John gunned
Ma Wi Jung just over the ground ahead of the mongoose wedge at the Azteca. He
dropped her belly to the ground and scraped it toward the gathered enemy.
Tortured metal screamed back at him. The ship hopped into the air again, and
he repeated, feeling the bay doors buckle and fall off.
Three guns on wheels were pulled around the side of the sacrificial pyramid.
The first round knocked
Ma Wi Jung sideways a whole foot.
John dragged the ship on toward the priests, gritting his teeth. Mongoose-men
ran around him with nets and began capturing priests, but only a mere handful
before John shouted at them over the external loudspeakers.
They had ten high-ranking priests when they flew back into the cross fire. One
priest for every mongoose-man left.
Ma Wi Jung barely made it to the docks. Smoke poured out of every opening as
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John made his final drop. He shouted instructions to the mongoose-men as they
left.
He wondered if Pepper could see the sorry shape of the ship, no longer a sleek
traveler between suns, but a casualty of war. He could see a fire raging down
in the rear areas where the engines struggled to power them back into the air.
John raised the
Ma Wi Jung up over the harbor, just getting it over Grantie's now broken arch.
He flew east away from the peninsula, away from the Azteca ships and out of
sight, before he nosed it into the water. They would never know that Capitol
City couldn't raise
Ma Wi Jung at any time.
For a while the ship floated, while John tried to get a response from it.
Would the ship be okay? And if so, how long would it take to mend the damage
taken? John got a glimmering of an answer through his connection: fifty years.
Water rushed in through the broken bay doors and filled the ship. Several
air-lock doors snapped shut to preserve airspace in critical areas.
Choking in the smoke created by the doused fires, John fumbled his way to the
upper air lock. He yanked open a locker and pulled out a life-raft packet.
Then he paused.
Ship, are any first-aid kits available?
The location came to him. John fumbled his way down, still holding on to the
bulky raft packet until he found a storage cabinet and opened it. Water
threatened to sweep him away, rising to his chest. He grabbed the floating
bright red box with the white cross on the side and stumbled back toward the
air lock with each item under his arms.
Two hands came in handy now.
He threw the life raft out the air lock and clambered up after it.
When he cleared the hatch, he took several deep breaths of fresh air, grabbed
the life raft, and ran down the length of the wing into the cold water.
He pulled the rip cord and the packet inflated itself into a full raft. John
climbed in, found the collapsible oars, and began to paddle his way toward
Capitol City. It would take a day to reach it. John knew the currents that he
had to take to get to the city's harbor, avoiding the jagged reefs and rocks
around the peninsula.
John turned and watched the
Ma Wi Jung slip beneath the waves. He marked the location in his head.
He was a Pilot. He always knew where he was. He could find her again, in fifty
years. If Pepper wasn't angry enough to kill him first.
The whole way back, John thought about Haidan lying in the wheelchair.
Hang on old friend. I may yet help you again.
CHAPTER SEVENTY-SEVEN
The mongoose-men had moved Dihana again. She'd ordered them to take her to the
walls with Haidan.
When he'd wake, she'd tell him what she knew of the battle outside the walls.
When he fell asleep, she'd watch and listen to the battle and do what she
could to ease his pain.
Haidan sweated constantly and had taken a turn for the worse after John had
left. She had the feeling he'd been holding on until then, but now felt he
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