Free Breeze Corinth (Book 1): Sky Shatter by Michael John Olson

closer to home
.
    A door at the bow slid open and a man dressed in a uniform emerged.
    “Last stop of the line! Conception! The city of Conception! This is your last call!” His voice echoed throughout the empty liner as he strode down the aisle. He stopped at Breeze’s row and smiled. It was a lopsided smile that almost seemed like a sneer.
    “Last stop of the night, young man. City of Conception. Of course,” he said as he leaned down to look out the cabin window, “this is an unusual stop for us. We usually don’t come out this far. Fuel costs, you see. Company don’t like it. No, sir, they don’t. You must be someone of great import to be taken this far on a near empty liner. Hah!” He continued down the aisle. “City of Conception!” He called again.
    Breeze looked back and craned his neck to see him.
    The man turned around suddenly. “Calling it a city is a bit of stretch, wouldn’t you say? More like a lonely outpost that’s a bit hard to find on the map. Hah!” He descended down the ramp. “City of Conception! Last stop!” He disappeared from view.
    The engines surged to a high pitched whine as the liner banked hard to starboard. Breeze looked up through the canopy as the vessel rolled, letting him see his desert town lit up in the night. The flashes of lightning highlighted some of the outermost settlements. For a moment, he thought he could see his home in the distance across the valley.
    The engines settled down to a warble as the liner leveled itself and slowed. He looked out the window and saw the lone terminal of his town’s land port squatting in the soaking rain in all of its drab glory. The terminal flashed with an intermittent strobe perched atop its roof that guided the liner to the gateway.
    The liner came to a stop and the overhead lighting slowly flickered on. Breeze got up and walked to the ramp at the stern of the liner. He descended twenty five levels to the lower deck, never once seeing a single soul on board.
    He arrived at the exit ramp to disembark, but instead of finding a covered walkway into the terminal, he was greeted by sheets of pouring rain and flashes of lightning. A gangplank had been extended and lowered to the ground. Breeze peered out into the dark as he pulled his jacket in and shivered.
    “Not much of a way to come back home, is it?” The voice of the mystery conductor boomed from behind. Startled, Breeze whirled around.
    “Expecting some sort of a hero’s welcome, I gather? Greeted instead by the fury of the elements. Not a good sign!” He threw back his head and laughed, only to have it cut short by harsh coughing and wheezing. “This weather doesn’t agree with me! Or maybe it’s just the dank air of this old beast of a liner. What difference does it make?” He produced an oil soaked cloth from his back pocket and blew his nose into it, then folded it and wiped the spittle from his mouth. He folded it again and placed it back in his pocket, then motioned toward the gangplank. “Well son, I know this is unceremonious, but you really must step off. We have a schedule to maintain.” He pulled out an old watch from his pocket and tapped it.
    Breeze looked again at the pouring rain. He tentatively stepped onto the gangplank and was greeted by a howling wind that drenched him with cold water. He jumped back and turned to the conductor. As the lightning flashed, it highlighted the man in an eerie light as he tapped his watch incessantly.
    Breeze quickly descended the gangplank and into the pouring rain. He lived in Conception his whole life and never once saw this much water fall on the town in an entire year.
    He stepped onto the ground and dashed to the terminal as torrents of fast moving water streaked across the tarmac. Upon reaching it, he stopped to look back at the liner.
    He was amazed at the immense size of the vessel. The terminal looked absurd to be hosting such a massive ship. Breeze could see the conductor at the top of the entrance waving to