Ganymede

Andan Cly wished Josephine Early well.

And he looked forward to finding his way home.

When the storm finally lifted and the last of the frozen spring rains had melted into puddles, the captain and his crew unfastened the Naamah Darling from its dock and set out northwest, back toward a city that had once been called the Port of Seattle, and now was called “abandoned” by almost everyone.

The Rockies were crisp and sharp, cut into the earth in razor-blade shades of white and blue, engraved with gray. All the usual drifts and currents, the tugs and shoves of the air, were rough above the mountain range — just like always. These unseen ghosts of rising and falling pressure were familiar, unthreatening even when they were a challenge.

Sometimes, without thinking, his right foot reached for an illusory lever that would lower or raise the Naamah Darling. Each time, he corrected himself in time to keep from doing any damage.

“This is more like it,” he said under his breath, so softly that no one but Fang heard him.

Fang signed, Back where we belong.

And Cly nodded.

* * *

Seattle was as they’d left it, and as it would be for months yet — until summer landed, sometime toward the end of July.

For now it was chilly and dank, shielded with a gray sky so low that it touched the city wall in places … draping across it like moss, or an ancient and ragged tablecloth. These wispy, dangling clouds met and commingled with the dense yellow blight gas that filled the wall and sank there, settling on the streets, on the buildings, on the leftover pieces of civilization that had remained outside and exposed.

The Naamah Darling hovered above it while the crew members applied their gas masks, better too early than too late; then the ship descended slowly, carefully down through the clouds, through the fog, through the noxious gas, and puttered toward Fort Decatur.

They did not see the lights from the Chinese lanterns until they were nearly upon them.

The lanterns burned warm and yellow, shaded by red and orange paper, lifted on strings like floaters on a fisherman’s net. These lights invited them — gave them a space to aim toward, and land upon — and the ship followed their suggested path and set down softly, expertly, into the fort’s main square. Surrounded by the tall, pointed trunks of felled trees, the courtyard-type space was impenetrable to Seattle’s walking dead. It was likewise safe from most of the more mindful human invaders, or curiosity seekers, or anyone else who wished to come inside uninvited.

Down the Naamah Darling dropped, and before there was time to affix the craft to the two fallen totem poles that temporarily served as a dock … up from below came the expectant residents of Seattle, to greet the ship and its crew.

Briar Wilkes and Lucy O’Gu

In response, or more likely as a coincidence of timing, the stairs did indeed come down and Cly descended them first. He ducked his head beneath the overhang and climbed even more quickly upon seeing Briar — who did not run to meet him, but stayed where she was.

Her mask hid most of her face except for those lovely eyes. It was wrapped around her head, pushing down her dark, curly hair with streaks of blight-bleached orange ru

“Captain,” she said.

If he’d been wearing a hat, he would’ve removed it. “Wilkes,” he replied.

“I’m glad you’re home.”

Later, while Troost, Fang, and Houjin helped Lucy O’Gu

Briar would not have chosen the station for a romantic walk, but Cly had promised Yaozu a report upon his return, and an accounting of both his money and the supplies it had purchased. So together they ambled, not in any real hurry, down a caged shaft via a mechanical lift, and through passageways that had once been meant to shelter incoming rail cars — which had never arrived, and never would.

This station, never completed or used for its intended purpose, now served as headquarters for what Briar considered a nefarious criminal empire … or at least the second incarnation thereof. Yaozu might prove better than Mi

“But that says nothing about the men who keep it that way.”

“I never said it did,” Cly noted. “It’s nice down here, that’s all. Looks downright civilized — like something you’d find on the outside.”

“Except for the lack of windows, I’d say you’re right.” Her mask hung off her belt now — affixed to a leather loop she’d stitched in place for the purpose. It dangled against her thigh, tapping her pants as she walked.

“And Yaozu might not be so bad. In the long run, he’ll be good for this place.”

“That’s what you think?”

“Maybe I’m wrong, and you’ll get to say ‘I told you so.’ But he’s helping me stay here. It was his money, mostly, that made the trip possible … and makes it possible to start up the dock I want, there in the fort.” He did not mention that the rest of the money had come from Josephine, who had paid him — good as her word — upon his departure from the delta.

“Then he’ll want something in return. Men like that, they never give anything away for free.”

“He’ll get something in return. More commerce. Easier access, coming and going.”

“Well. I suppose we’ll see.”

“No one’s asking you to like him.”

“Good,” she said. “Because I don’t. And I don’t trust him, either.”

“Do you trust me?” he asked.

“More than I ought to,” she said.

“Good. Then trust me to handle my end of things all right, and to keep the bargain from biting me in the ass later on.”

“All right. I’ll do that. Whatever it takes.”

His forehead wrinkled. “What do you mean, whatever it takes?”

“I mean, whatever it takes to keep you down here. If all you need is a little bargain with the devil, it’s not the end of the world. Not yet. And anyhow,” she added, with a toss of her hair that was almost girlish, and almost made him laugh, “you’re the one signing in blood, not me.”

He took her hand so he could hold it while they walked, even though it made him feel big and clumsy to grasp something so small in his oversized fingers. He liked it anyway, how she trusted him, and how she only looked delicate — when he knew for a fact that she was not, and for that matter, had never been any of the things everyone else had assumed.

He leaned into her like a lion drawing close to a fire. He removed his hand from hers and instead, wrapped it around her shoulder, pulling her against him so he could hold her that way, and be warmed by her.