Free Rising Tide by Rajan Khanna

Malik’s people are going to show up to escort me into the bowels of the ship. This was my chance to find my way out and I failed. What can I do, trapped below?
    For better or worse (and it feels very worse), my fate seems tied up in Ben. And I have to hope that he does what he says he can. I don’t feel very confident.
    I can hear them at the door. My time is running out.
    Ben . . . please come through.

CHAPTER FIVE
    T o be honest, I never thought I would be so unhappy to be back in the sky. I love being in the air, it’s where I belong, but, well, not like this. I know, I know—my dad used to say something about beggars not being choosers, but I’m aboard a strange ship, and I can’t fly her or even navigate, and I feel powerless.
    The ship is called the Raven and her captain is a zep named Whistler. Whistler was probably born a woman, based on bone structure, but now eschews gender altogether. It’s not uncommon in the Sick where sex is a potentially deadly prospect. Or, who knows—maybe Whistler was just born that way. That’s not my problem with Whistler.
    My problem with Whistler is that Whistler has been in my face since this whole thing started. Seems that Mal wasn’t exaggerating when he said his people would be on top of me the whole time.
    Whistler wears a lot of leather, which adds to the hard image. A metal cuff, lots of piercings, and big, black boots complete the picture. Hair, short and dark, sits messily on Whistler’s head. The perpetual scowl, I think, is mostly in response to me, but who really knows?
    I give them Lord Tess’s location, the San Francisco Public Library, hoping that doing so won’t piss Tess off, but how else am I going to get there? Chang, Whistler’s second-in-command, a rough-looking fellow with a shaved, scarred head and a wispy mustache, lays in the course.
    â€œWhen did both of you hook up with Mal?” I ask.
    â€œFuck you, scavenger,” Whistler says.
    Ship captains these days have no manners.
    â€œTake us in from the south,” Whistler tells Chang. “We’ve seen ships flying the route to the north.”
    â€œWhat kind of ships?” I ask.
    â€œShut up,” Whistler says.
    This is going to be a delightful trip.
    â€œIf this is a trap,” Whistler says, “just know that the first thing I’m going to do is put a bullet in the back of your head.” Whistler carries a large handgun strapped to one leg. One shot from that would leave tiny pieces of my skull and its contents all over the place.
    â€œIt’s not a trap,” I say. “Lord Tess is a knowledge broker. She’s open to anyone. She’s valuable enough that people leave her alone. It’s best to just let the information flow.”
    Truth be told, I hope that’s still the case. I thought I knew how the world worked, and then everything went upside down on me. Gastown, the big city in the sky, was supposed to be the start of a new era, the seed of a new society. That had been enough to make it untouchable until raiders out of Valhalla, a sky city back east, took it over. I thought all they wanted were the resources, and the helium the city in the sky had, but when I looked a little closer, seems they were working with a group of scientists I call the Cabal, who were experimenting with the Bug.
    Everything’s different now, everything’s crazy.
    Since the people on board hate me, I focus my attention on the ship. The Raven is longer than the Cherub was, thinner, but the Cherub was sleek, smooth, like a wide, slightly flattened bullet. The Raven is somehow blockier and gives the appearance of awkwardness. Still, we appear to be moving at a decent clip. She’s also armed, which is something I never really went in for. But Mal’s people do. He always thought that it mattered.
    The two gunners on board don’t like me either.
    Inside, the Raven ’s pretty spare—Whistler commands