these days. Dishonouring himself in such a manner would be a fate worse than death.
Besides, he wouldn’t give Pinn the satisfaction. A few days ago, after one particularly cruel bout of diarrhoea, Crake had found Slag, the Ketty Jay ’s cat, lying by the door, apparently overcome by the fumes. He’d rushed Slag to the infirmary, where Malvery, between bouts of hysterical laughter, pronounced the cat clear of any kind of toxic poisoning. It turned out to be Pinn’s idea of a joke. The pilot had spiked Slag’s milk with rum and laid the unconscious animal where Crake would find it.
Maybe it was because they were carrying a highly visible golem on the back, but they’d attracted two of the three enemy buggies. Jez was driving like a maniac to stay ahead of them. If not for Bess, they would all most likely have been shot by now, but she was their shield and most of the bullets that came their way ricocheted harmlessly off her armour. She roared and swiped, making threatening grabs at her tormentors. They were wise enough to stay far out of her reach. Shooting Bess made her very annoyed indeed.
‘Can’t you keep her still?’ Jez yelled, as their vehicle slewed back and forth.
‘They’re shooting her. With bullets,’ Crake replied. ‘Would you keep still?’
Jez didn’t bother to reply to that. ‘Where’s the Cap’n? Someone needs to take care of these bastards.’
Crake shaded his eyes against the glare of the sun. ‘There he is! He must’ve dropped back. He’s coming up behind them.’
‘Alright. Let’s try not to—’
Jez was interrupted by an explosion to their left, pelting them with tiny stones. The Rattletrap rocked and swerved. Crake looked over at the train, which suddenly seemed a lot closer than before.
‘The autocannons!’ he said, flapping his hands at her. ‘Get away from the train! They’re herding us towards the train!’
‘They’re not herding us anywhere! I’ve been driving in a straight line!’ She twisted the wheel and skidded aside as a gatling gun sent a hail of bullets their way. ‘More or less, anyway.’
‘Maybe you’ve been going straight, but the tracks haven’t.’ He pointed suddenly. ‘Look there! More help on the way!’
Ashua’s Rattletrap was approaching, leaving a column of black smoke behind them, which was all that remained of their opponent. The relief inspired by the thought of imminent reinforcements almost caused Crake to have an accident, and he had to clench tight and concentrate on reciting mathematical tables until the urge passed.
He’d just got himself under control when there was another explosion behind them, which clouded them from their pursuers for a moment. Jez wrenched the wheel around and tore off at right-angles to her original course just as the others arrived.
There was a chorus of gatling fire and a bellow of engines as Frey and Ashua’s Rattletraps tangled with the enemy in a dusty knot. They swerved and crisscrossed, and when they emerged from the haze, Ashua was chasing one of the Dakkadian Rattletraps. The other was still following Jez and Crake, but Frey was hot on its tail, harassing it mercilessly.
Crake looked back. The Dakkadians were now forced to concentrate on avoiding Malvery’s gatling fire rather than shooting at Bess. The autocannons had fallen silent since they were out of range, but the train powered on relentlessly.
‘She alright back there?’ Jez asked.
Crake checked on Bess, who was getting more and more agitated.
‘She’s not what I’d call happy,’ he said.
‘Let’s see if we can do something about getting that son of a bitch off our tail,’ Jez said.
She threw the Rattletrap into a skid, carving a quarter-circle in the earth before leaping off a rise. They hit the ground hard and went the other way, making a tight zigzag.
‘They’re catching up!’ Crake said, as he was thrown from one side of his seat to the other.
‘That’s the idea,’ said Jez, turning again. ‘They
Besides, he wouldn’t give Pinn the satisfaction. A few days ago, after one particularly cruel bout of diarrhoea, Crake had found Slag, the Ketty Jay ’s cat, lying by the door, apparently overcome by the fumes. He’d rushed Slag to the infirmary, where Malvery, between bouts of hysterical laughter, pronounced the cat clear of any kind of toxic poisoning. It turned out to be Pinn’s idea of a joke. The pilot had spiked Slag’s milk with rum and laid the unconscious animal where Crake would find it.
Maybe it was because they were carrying a highly visible golem on the back, but they’d attracted two of the three enemy buggies. Jez was driving like a maniac to stay ahead of them. If not for Bess, they would all most likely have been shot by now, but she was their shield and most of the bullets that came their way ricocheted harmlessly off her armour. She roared and swiped, making threatening grabs at her tormentors. They were wise enough to stay far out of her reach. Shooting Bess made her very annoyed indeed.
‘Can’t you keep her still?’ Jez yelled, as their vehicle slewed back and forth.
‘They’re shooting her. With bullets,’ Crake replied. ‘Would you keep still?’
Jez didn’t bother to reply to that. ‘Where’s the Cap’n? Someone needs to take care of these bastards.’
Crake shaded his eyes against the glare of the sun. ‘There he is! He must’ve dropped back. He’s coming up behind them.’
‘Alright. Let’s try not to—’
Jez was interrupted by an explosion to their left, pelting them with tiny stones. The Rattletrap rocked and swerved. Crake looked over at the train, which suddenly seemed a lot closer than before.
‘The autocannons!’ he said, flapping his hands at her. ‘Get away from the train! They’re herding us towards the train!’
‘They’re not herding us anywhere! I’ve been driving in a straight line!’ She twisted the wheel and skidded aside as a gatling gun sent a hail of bullets their way. ‘More or less, anyway.’
‘Maybe you’ve been going straight, but the tracks haven’t.’ He pointed suddenly. ‘Look there! More help on the way!’
Ashua’s Rattletrap was approaching, leaving a column of black smoke behind them, which was all that remained of their opponent. The relief inspired by the thought of imminent reinforcements almost caused Crake to have an accident, and he had to clench tight and concentrate on reciting mathematical tables until the urge passed.
He’d just got himself under control when there was another explosion behind them, which clouded them from their pursuers for a moment. Jez wrenched the wheel around and tore off at right-angles to her original course just as the others arrived.
There was a chorus of gatling fire and a bellow of engines as Frey and Ashua’s Rattletraps tangled with the enemy in a dusty knot. They swerved and crisscrossed, and when they emerged from the haze, Ashua was chasing one of the Dakkadian Rattletraps. The other was still following Jez and Crake, but Frey was hot on its tail, harassing it mercilessly.
Crake looked back. The Dakkadians were now forced to concentrate on avoiding Malvery’s gatling fire rather than shooting at Bess. The autocannons had fallen silent since they were out of range, but the train powered on relentlessly.
‘She alright back there?’ Jez asked.
Crake checked on Bess, who was getting more and more agitated.
‘She’s not what I’d call happy,’ he said.
‘Let’s see if we can do something about getting that son of a bitch off our tail,’ Jez said.
She threw the Rattletrap into a skid, carving a quarter-circle in the earth before leaping off a rise. They hit the ground hard and went the other way, making a tight zigzag.
‘They’re catching up!’ Crake said, as he was thrown from one side of his seat to the other.
‘That’s the idea,’ said Jez, turning again. ‘They
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