Salvage by Alexandra Duncan

in her fever dream. Women of the air, stay aloft and be whole!
    Then the whole verse comes back to me, and I ache with dread. I want to run, but my body isn’t done playing traitor, and my limbs lock up.
    But woman, her mettle’s thin ,
    Like copper sails to trap the sun’s heat .
    Cover us all, she does ,
    Tame the stars’ fury and channel life .
    In the air, she floats;
    A perfect, iridescent thing .
    But when her feet touch the ground ,
    Bare time till she falls crumpled and tarnished .
    Women of the air, stay aloft and be whole!
    I feel as though the floor is falling out beneath me. The tall Fix steps forward and pounds a fist on the door. I finally catch a glimpse of Luck. His face says he’s as wracked with regret as me, as tarnished as I feel, but he tries to smile at me anyway. Don’t fear . I bow my head and let my damp hair hide my face. How can he protect me if he’s as frozen by shame as I am?
    A section of the door creaks open, a little hidden latchport. “What?” says the guard.
    â€œWe need to see Æther Fortune and the Parastrata captain.” The Fix spits.
    â€œWhat? Now?” says the guard. Then he catches sight of me, hair snarled with briny water, only half dressed in my shirt and underskirts, and he jumps as if someone has touched a bare wire to his skin.
    The Fixes march us into the captain’s quarters. Men’s laughter rings through the sickly sweet smoke clouding the air. The crewemen lounge on oversize pillows of hide and silk, shouting and singing and throwing back glasses of clear rice wine. My heartbeat doubles. I’ve never been in men’s quarters before, except for the times Modrie Reller sent me in to clean, and the rooms were empty then. My father’s yellow-white hair stands out bright as a nova in a sea of dark heads. Æther Fortune sits beside him. My arms and face burn. Panic crackles beneath my skin. I try to break for the door, but they catch me and spin me around to face my father again.
    My father’s eyes narrow at me like a cat’s. A hush spreads out around us.
    He stands and shifts his gaze to the Fixes. “What are you doing with my so girl?”
    â€œYour so girl,” says one of the Fixes, sticky with sarcasm. “We caught her naked in the desalination reservoir, letting young Æther Luck put his hands to her.” He shoves Luck forward.
    Ã†ther Fortune shoots to his feet. “My son?”
    â€œWe thought you’d want to talk on what they were doing there, exactly, in the full middle of night,” the Fix says.
    My father’s eyes are metal. “And what were you doing with our bride, Æther Luck?”
    â€œI thought . . .” Luck’s head drops. “We . . .”
    No , I think, despair creeping over me. Don’t act the smallboy, not now .
    â€œSpeak up.” My father looms over him. “Let us hear you.”
    â€œI . . . we were sealing our bond,” Luck says. He lifts his head and tries to stare back at my father, but I can see he’s shaken. The look on my father’s face is enough to make me want to drop to my knees and beg mercy. “We thought it wouldn’t matter so soon before the binding.”
    â€œWouldn’t matter?” Æther Fortune pushes forward. Blood flushes his cheeks and throat. “Wouldn’t matter ?”
    â€œI know it was wrong,” Luck says. “But I care some lot for Ava and once we’re bound it won’t—”
    My father looks as though he’s going to strike him, but it’s Æther Fortune who does it. He hits Luck close-fisted across the eye. There is a snap, and Luck doubles over, clutching his face.
    I stifle a cry.
    â€œMy own son.” Æther Fortune grabs Luck by the back of the neck and pulls him up.
    Luck swallows, a bruise already purpling his cheekbone. “Father . . .”
    â€œIt matters to me,” he says coldly, and strikes