Free Europa by Joseph Robert Lewis Page A

any sight of the world below at all, and when the clouds did part they only revealed more dark blue ocean frothing and churning with great white icebergs sailing the waves.
    As evening approached the clouds parted one last time and Omar saw the light of the setting sun streaking across a vast field of white ice spider-webbed with black cracks. There was no sign of the dark waters any more. But Morayo pointed to her airspeed indicator and her fuel gauge and her pocket watch and said with youthful confidence that they were halfway to their destination, if their destination did in fact exist.
    The sun set and darkness engulfed the airship, but Omar remained poised on the edge of his seat, leaning forward to stare at his clasped hands, waiting.
    Only a few more hours. We’re nearly there now. Ysland!
    After a while of staring down at the filthy toes of his new boots and realizing that he hadn’t taken off his new boots in several days, Omar sat up to stretch and yawn. He glanced at Kosoko and said, “Are you excited about seeing my little island at the top of the world, or is it just another island for you?”
    The cartographer didn’t answer. He simply went on staring across the cabin at the far wall. He didn’t blink.
    Oh God, not again.
    Omar touched the man’s neck.
    No pulse.
    He grabbed the hilt of his seireiken. He muttered, “Doctor? I need your help again.”
    The dim shade of the Indian healer appeared in the center of the cabin, his legs partially obscured by the small barrel of cheeses in the middle of the floor. After squinting at Kosoko, the physician shrugged and said, I’m sorry, but there’s nothing to be done. He’s been dead for quite a while now. It’s the same as that other man from before. Heart failure. But at least this gentleman was older. He seemed like a nice man. And the healer vanished.
    Omar grimaced.
    No, not now!
    He exhaled slowly.
    No, it’s all right. The captain didn’t turn back when Garai died, so she won’t turn back now. It’s all right.
    “Captain?” he called out. “Can you come back here, please?”
    Riuza thumped back to him with one hand on the overhead rail for balance. “What is it?”
    Omar gestured to the cartographer. “It would seem our friend Kosoko is no longer with us.”
    “What?” Riuza grabbed the dead man’s wrist, and then his neck. “Damn it. What the hell is going on here? Did he say anything?”
    “No, nothing. He looked a bit queasy, but he’s looked queasy since we left Tingis. And now he looks the same as Garai did. See the discoloration around the eyes and mouth?”
    “Hey, what’s going on back here?” Morayo poked her head over the captain’s shoulder.
    Omar leaned over to peer at the cockpit and saw a thin metal bar propped up against the pilot’s controls. The handle wiggled, but stayed upright.
    “Kosoko’s dead,” Riuza said.
    “Him too? How?” The young engineer took a quick step back from the corpse.
    “The doc here says it was his heart, just like Garai.”
    “Well, what are the odds of that?” Morayo’s frown shifted quickly into gaping, wide-eyed fear. “What if our food’s been poisoned? What if we’re all going to die?”
    “We’re not going to die, lieutenant, settle down.” Riuza turned to Omar. “But it can’t be a coincidence that they’re both dead. What about you, how do you feel?”
    “Fine,” Omar said. “I had a little indigestion once, but that was days ago.”
    “Captain,” Morayo whispered. “What if he did it?”
    “Don’t be stupid, lieutenant. Get back to your station.” But Riuza kept her gaze on her one remaining passenger.
    “I didn’t kill anyone,” Omar said, raising his empty hands. “I didn’t even know these gentlemen before you introduced me to them. Why would I kill them?”
    “So you could get to your damn island,” Morayo said, her face darkening. “With Garai dead, we spent almost no time on the ground looking at the plants and things. It sped up the flight for