1889: Journey To The Moon (The Far Journey Chronicles) by George Wier, Billy Kring Page A

the Indian stated.
    “Thanks,” Billy said, and reloaded his pistol.
    A ballista cracked onto the hull beside Ekka. She leapt upward in an acrobatic flip and the ballista fell into the night. If she hadn’t done so, the blades of the spear would have taken her feet off at the ankles.
    A too-bright light sprang into being from one of the dirigibles, very nearly blinding the four defenders. The light was joined by a dozen others.
    “Shit,” Billy yelled. “There’s a hundred of ‘em. Everybody back inside!”
    The ship lurched. Ross had thrown the transmogrifier main gear into Level Three. Billy, Ekka and the Indian fell into the night.
    Denys Jay-Patten flipped back into the hatch at the last second. He shouted out the names of his compatriots, but there was no one to hear him. The Arcadia rolled onto its belly. Denys stared at the two remaining ropes there—Billy’s and Ekka’s. His fingers brushed them and they twanged. In his mind’s eye he could see them dangling beneath the craft.
    He thrust his head out and looked down, but the curvature of the hull of the ship defeated his view. The robot lofted a dead man and threw it at something, Denys could not see what. The glow from burning Colorado Springs was far behind them now, and they were moving away from the black ships of the sky pirates.
    “Robot!” Denys called. “Get in here and help me reel in these ropes!”
    At that moment a black shape flew in through the hatch over Denys’s head. Denys ducked out of reflex, and this saved his life. The keen edge of a cutlass blade shaved a swatch of hair from the top of his head.
    The flying black shape bounded off the far wall of the hull and landed on the loading platform facing Denys. The man smiled.
    “Who the hell are you?” Denys asked. He dropped his rifle onto the pile of dead pirates at his feet and drew his saber from its sheath.
    “Oye be Blackbeard.”

     
    [ 22 ]
     
    Billy Gostman felt as if his right arm was about to pop out of its socket. Two Hats gripped his arm with both of his powerful hands. The rope was taut around Billy’s ankle and it hurt. Ekka swung around him in a lessening arc. She’d already hit him once, nearly dislodging Two Hats.
    Two Hats’ moccasins brushed the bubble below the ship and his shoes shimmered with something akin to St. Elmo’s fire—a crackling blue electric energy.
    “If my chief were here,” Two Hats said. “He would name me Blue Foot.”
    “I forgot to ask your name,” Billy replied. The muscles in his arm screamed at him.
    “Two Hats,” the Indian said.
    “That makes sense. I’m Billy.”
    “Me know. Me hear woman say your name during battle.”
    “Ekka?”
    “No. Other one.” Two Hats lowered his voice as Ekka swung by again. She missed them by inches, even with her hand outstretched. “You own hearts of two women. I not want to be you.”
    From above Billy heard the distinct clang of metal on metal.
    “White hunter fights with sword,” Two Hats said. “It is good.”
    “Yeah, but who’s he fighting?”
    “It may be he makes war with ghost.”
    Ekka swung back again. “Brace, Billy!” she cried. “I can’t stop!”
    She hit Billy square this time, and instead of falling, Two Hats released one hand and grappled at Ekka with the other. He missed her arm but hers twisted around and took hold of his.
    “Billy,” she said. “Quick, take off your gunbelt.”
    “Oh. Right.” Billy used his free hand and got his belt loose. Somewhere along the way he’d lost both of his pistols. He passed the belt to Ekka, who slung it first around the Indian’s bicep, then around Billy’s own. She pulled it taut, drawing Two Hats upward by inches. Billy detected movement, tucked his chin and gazed upward. The robot had their ropes and was reeling them in.
    “That hurt,” Two Hats said between clenched teeth. “But feel better than eat boulder.”

     
    [ 23 ]
     
    “Poppycock,” Denys said. “Blackbeard’s dead. He died in 1718. He was