Clockwork Chaos by C.J. Henderson, Bernie Mozjes, James Daniel Ross, James Chambers, N.R. Brown, Angel Leigh McCoy, Patrick Thomas, Jeff Young

Aviator Snatches Queen From City . There’ll be parades and medals in your future.”
    “She surrendered to me,” I said. “All I managed to do was land and not get killed.”
    “It won’t play that way, especially after word gets out of what happened in the city.”
    “What do you mean?” I asked.
    The major blinked. “Don’t you know? You were there. Don’t you know what we found?”
    “No,” I said.
    “They’re dead. All of them. The whore ordered them to drink poison, and they did. Every last one. Can you believe that? It’s a city of ghosts.”
    Surprised, I looked back across the bay at New Athina, feeling a deep hurt in my chest.
    I wasn’t sure of my decision, until I met you , the queen had said. In my good hand, the satchel containing the two books was heavier than it should be.
    Standing nearby was Zelena, who stood just outside my tent, her leg still chained to the ground, her stomach visibly swollen. I walked up to her, and she threw her arms around my shoulders. She clutched onto me for a long time, and I held onto her the best I could. I held on until finally her heart rate slowed.
    I handed her the bag containing the two books.
    “What is this?” she asked.
    “It’s everything that’s left,” I said.

The Power of Her Position
    B ernie Mojzes
    ––––––––
    D awn brings yet more bad news.
    “Sail ho!” shouted from the crow’s nest, echoed in a parade of voices the length of the Light Brigade .
    Mr. Gibson curses. “Where ahead?”
    “Dead ahead, sir! And all across the bow from one point starboard to two points port!”
    A dozen feet slapping the deck, even before Gibson starts to crank the siren, more below deck and hitting the stair. Captain Carrigan still tugging one-handed at his belt buckle as he bursts from his quarters, looking-glass and coat collar clutched in the other.
    “Bring her ’round hard to starboard!” he yells, scrambling to the foredeck with the ease of a much younger man. The coat flaps like a matador’s cape in the wind as he shrugs himself into it.
    The deck pitches sharply, tossing some of the less experienced boys against the rail. Mary’s feet come out from under her as she emerges from the captain’s cabin, and she slides across the deck until a burly hand grasps her by the ankle.
    “God bless, Yaqub.” She sits up, straightens her bodice, struggles to her feet. “What’s happening? I thought we’d a good lead?”
    The big moor shrugs and wags a thumb at his captain. “Don’t know yet. Ask your man, or wait with the rest of us.” He hefts the box of ammunition he’d set down to save her and hurries on his way.
    Mary reaches up and tugs the hem of Carrigan’s coat. “Tom? What’s wrong?”
    “Below decks, woman.” Carrigan scans the mass of ships that block their escape. Some of the ships start to raise the Union Jack, others raise the flags of France and the Golden Horde, depending on which of the pursuing armadas they see first. Their confusion is short-lived, but enough. Two fleets chase this lone clipper across the waves, and it’s too late to hope to trick either into lowering their guard. They raise their true colors.
    “Fucking East India Company,” Carrigan mutters.
    And they’d almost escaped, riding the wind before the fleets of two empires. With a decent tail wind, a fast clipper could still outrun any ironclad. Especially the Light Brigade . Better to be a gazelle on the high seas than an armadillo.
    Unless there is nowhere to run.
    Carrigan speaks into Gibson’s ear, waits for his first mate’s acknowledging nod. Gibson scowls, concedes, then takes the stairs three at a time, swinging ‘round the banister to catch Mary around the waist.
    “You’re coming with me, lass.”
    She struggles in his grip as he drags her below.
    Behind her, the captain bellows. “All hands on deck! Raise the white flag! And prepare to engage!”
    Mary stumbles on the stair, but Gibson’s rope-muscled arm holds her up. He