Over the Indian Ocean

September 27, 1636

The airship sparkled in the early morning light. There was only darkness below, as shadows still shrouded the earth. At almost two miles above the surface, the airship could see the sun rise much earlier than they would see it on the ground. Even now the crew watched as the sunlight spread across the water below.

Marlon was in the observation dome. He had his binoculars, and was examining the coast they were passing. "I can't tell where we are just by looking. I used to think that all India was a jungle, but so far I can only see more of the same desert we've been passing over since we left the Mediterranean." He handed the glasses back to the lookout, and started climbing down from the dome.

By noon, they could see the western edge of the Indian peninsula. Frode, the navigator, stood beside Marlon, with his own spyglass. "It's kind of hazy but I think I can see almost the whole southern tip of the Indian subcontinent."

He closed up his glass, and picked up a chart. "According to my sailing instructions, Tranquebar is just up from the point across the narrow strait to what your maps call Sri Lanka. What do you think they're going to say when this airship comes over the horizon?"

Marlon chuckled. "Whatever they think it is, I'm almost certain they don't expect it to be from Denmark. I've been talking to Herr Lund, the new governor. He says that they probably think that the Danish East India company is still floundering around, trying to arrange for a ship that will get here sometime next year. This will be a real shock for them, I'm afraid."

****

The course had been set deliberately south of where the navigator thought Tranquebar was. They turned north and sailed over India now for more than two hours, waiting to sight the fort. They were at about five thousand feet, watching the countryside pass by. Everybody was on the lookout, leaning over railings and out of windows, watching for the large square fortress the company had built there thirteen years before. As landmarks went, it was probably the best thing they were going to get for positive identification from the air.

"There it is!" Then several more shouts came confirming a sighting.

Marlon turned to Eric, the flight engineer. "Somebody tie a weight on the end of a rope, and then put our Danish flag on it. We'll lower it to about twenty feet below the airship. I don't want anybody down there taking a pot shot at us because they don't know what we are."

Just like in Venice, crowds of people were standing in the open and pointing upward. Marlon thought, I wonder if this is ever going to become commonplace? "Let's tie a bucket or bottle or something to a long strip of cloth. We need to get a message to the people in the fort, and tell them how to help us land. You go get the container and a streamer, and I'll write up the instructions. Then you can check it before we make the drop."

Later, their preparations made, Marlon instructed Gunnar, the helmsman, to take the airship across the fortress. "Well, here goes the first aerially transmitted message from Denmark to India in the history of the world." He tossed the green glass bottle out the window. The container fell, streamer fluttering behind it.

Marlon watched as the bottle, trailing a long tail of cloth like a kite, bounced off the wall on the west side of the fortress. Luckily it didn't break. He could see a figure running across the fortress courtyard. The boy scooped up the bottle and ran back toward the building on the east side of the compound.

"Okay, Gunnar. Take it downwind and then come back to that open area just south of the fortress," said Marlon. "We're going to have to make two more runs before we can land. First we're going to drop Ulrik and let him tell them how to set up the mast. Then we're going to drop the mast. For every run, we need to come in at a very low level, and make sure our deliveries are gentle. I don't want to lose either the man or the mast."

The crowd of people was pouring out of the fortress gates. They were all hurrying to a large open area south of the fortress. The airship was creeping upwind just about five hundred feet above the ground. Small boys were waving and shouting. People were staring in open amazement that such a huge thing could be floating toward them.

Marlon braced his feet against the railing near the gangplank and tightened the harness on Ulrik. "Okay, remember to do it exactly the way we practiced. Make sure that the rope hits the ground before you do. You want it to dissipate any shock before landing. I don't know how much static electricity we've built up."

The crewmen nodded. When Marlon said "electricity" nobody wanted to tinker with such a dangerous sounding concept.

Everything was ready. Time to go. Ulrik stepped to the door. The men at the winch put their thumbs up and started the crank, lifting the crewmen above the floor. Then they swung him out the door.

Marlon grinned like a picket fence. "Okay, start him down, boys." The winch crew were cranking like crazy, and Ulrik looked as if he were walking on air. He had a rope dangling below him that would bleed off the static electricity.

Marlon leaned out of the door and watched his man drop slowly but steadily toward the ground. He saw little boys running to catch the end of the rope. He got his megaphone and shouted, "Stay away! Stay away from the rope!"

Ulrik shouted as well, but the boys below didn't stop. Marlon felt as if he were going to burst, trying to save the boys from serious injury. Then he saw someone in a white uniform come running into the crowd of boys. He spoke to them, and gestured sharply, and the boys scattered. The rope touched the ground and bounced along for a moment, then Ulrik was within stepping distance of the ground.

He released his harness and made a perfect landing tumble, rolling into a ball and jumping up immediately.

The man in white walked over to him, shook his hand, then grabbed him in a huge embrace. "Looks like we're welcome, after all." Marlon grinned a moment more, then hurried back to the bridge.

"Okay, Gunnar. Time to deliver the mast. Then we can finally land this thing."

Gunnar brought the ship around in a stately turn, and then was again pointing at the potential landing site. Ulrik was pointing up to the airship and the long mast that have been slung below the cargo compartment. The pivoting cone attachment for docking was already in place on the mast. It seemed to take forever as he spoke and gestured what he wanted to do with the mast. But finally, Ulrik waved his arms.

Marlon said, "There's the signal. Gunnar. When the mast is away take us back over the ocean for the final run while they get it set up."

Marlon sat down in the command chair, feeling completely exhausted and rubbed his forehead. It's true that he hadn't gotten the sleep he needed on this trip. Getting ready to land was taking a huge weight off his shoulders, at least for now.

The Royal Anne sailed out over the ocean and waited. It seemed like only a few minutes but must have been more than an hour. Finally the mast stood on end, and was guyed down firmly to the ground.

"Docking positions," ordered Marlon. "Take us around and bring us up to the mast slowly. Let's do it by the numbers. I don't want to look like an idiot or a fool in front of these people. This is the first time they've ever seen this done, so let's do it right."

Governor's Office, Tranquebar

September 27, 1636

About sunset

"You've certainly caused quite a bit of an excitement." Roelant Crappé was host to Captain Pridmore and the replacement governor, Niels Lund. They were sipping tea and watching the sunset out of the west window of the office.

Crappé said, "This has probably been the most surprising thing to ever happen in this place. Nothing can compare with a great ship appearing out of the clouds, and flying to our outpost."

Niels nodded. "I don't know how much you've heard about things happening in Europe. But there are wonders and things that have never before been seen. And it's going on all over the continent."

Marlon set his cup down and picked up where Niels left off. "Yes, it's really true. There's a whole group of people who came from the future and settled in central Germany. I know for a certainty, because I'm one of them."

Roelant tried, and failed, to stop staring. The airship captain didn't look any different from any other captain ever entertained in this office. And yet, in speaking with Marlon, there was something subtly different. "So, Captain. You come from a time of magic and miracles. This all should seem totally normal to you."

Marlon chuckled. "Indeed, it may seem so. But even in the future where I came from, airships like this always seemed to have a certain magic. People were absolutely fascinated every time they saw one flying around. It's almost like people could not keep from looking at airships, 'blimps' as we called them. I still think they're just wonders beyond belief."

"I know you were wondering why we are here," Niels said. "Your missive was received by the Danish East India Company just this month. And already, we are here with this airship to pick up the most valuable portion of your cargo. We can only take twenty tons, so we need the most vulnerable parts. We can take it back to Denmark in less than a month."

Roelant looked a little surprised. Marlon grinned and pulled out his own large, official packet, covered with seals and ribbons and placed it in front of the long-time factor. "You know, it's a lot more fun to give this away instead of getting one."

After Roelant had thoroughly examined the packet, Niels pulled a document folded into soft leather from his inner jacket pocket. "This is our manifest. We didn't really know what we could bring to India that would have any real value in trade. As far as anybody knows, all the Indians want from Europe is money. However, we bought about ten tons of glassware from Venice. It's some of the finest they make, and hopefully in such a large quantity we can make a profit on it."

Roelant smiled. "Glassware is a good choice. It was never feasible to ship any on the long journey around the Cape of Good Hope. But I'm certain that you, as the new governor, will be able to find buyers. I'll introduce you to my assistant, Chander. He will be of great help."

Marlon said, "My greatest concern, frankly, is fuel for our engines. We used far more fuel than we expected on the trip out here. The monsoon winds are now blowing to the west and we can fly with the wind and get more distance for the fuel we burn, but I still don't think it's enough. We need something in the way of fuel to take us all the way home."

"What sort of fuel do you need? There may be charcoal available, but I don't know in what quantities. And I don't know of any coal." Roelant scratched his chin, thinking of availability and costs.

"My engines run on liquid fuel, like oil or petroleum. Do they use any kind of oil around here for lamps or heating?"

The factor shrugged. "I will have to think about this. I really don't know exactly what we could use. There is very little of this petroleum that you speak of in use here in India right now. Don't worry, though. I've never seen anything we couldn't find in India somewhere. I'm sure we'll think of something."

Marlon stood up and started to pace. "You know, I can adjust to whatever we find, and I'm thinking . . ."

Roelant held up his hand and interrupted Marlon. "We can leave that for another day. Tonight, the natives have prepared a huge festivity to celebrate your arrival from home. They like to have a feast whenever anyone arrives."

Niels said, "Yes, and I'm sure it doesn't hurt your feelings, Roelant. You end up getting home again, even though the ship sent out to retrieve you sank."

"Indeed that has crossed my mind," chuckled Roelant. "Now let's all go to dinner. I think we have some things you may enjoy quite a bit."

****

Marlon sat at a desk in an office they'd loaned him here at the outpost. He felt as if an army of paper was marching past him, and he had to do combat with every single report. The more things change the more they stay the same.

He mumbled to himself. "When I got out of the army, I got a job where I wouldn't be shot at. Little did I know I'd be drowning in numbers. We go through the Ring of Fire and I'm still playing with numbers. I move to Denmark and I'm still playing with numbers."

From the door came a dry laugh. "I do believe the whole world floats on a sea of numbers now." Niels Lund came into the office. "Blame it on the people who want to buy and trade and want to get value for it. That seems to be all we have to defend ourselves, in a shroud of numbers. Perhaps they will keep us from making a devastating mistake.

"I came to show you this list of cargo that we want to send home with you. As you recommended, it's all compact, perishable, and highly valuable."

Marlon reached over and picked up the paper, then almost choked. "Are you sure these numbers are correct? I can see that the nutmeg will sell, and even the opium would bring a lot of money. But your numbers here are truly astonishing."

"Yes, indeed. And when you convert the expected sale price from Gilders to your USE dollars, you should expect to clear a little more than ten million on this trip alone. That's not much compared to what a whole ship would win if we could only get it back to Copenhagen. Your load is only about one fifth as large. But still, if we can get more than one airship a year out here, we could make a very tidy profit."

Marlon shook his head. Ten million dollars for a month of travel? "I'm not certain, but it's probable that we can make five to ten trips a year. It depends on whether or not we can have another airship available to us. There are all kinds of problems that we're lucky not to have experienced on this trip. Only one bad bearing in an engine, and almost no weather concerns. We had good weather all the way out except for when the wind shifted. The only serious problem we've really had, besides rescuing that very beautiful young lady, was that we burned a lot more fuel than we should have. That's something I hadn't expected."

Just then the door opened and a young maid servant brought in a tray. She curtsied, and delivered a practiced speech. "Kind sir, here is the meal you ordered. It is bread and cheese and ghee." Then she curtsied again, and scurried out.

"Did you order this?" Marlon asked.

"Yes, I did." Niels grinned. "In the heat of the day, according to Roelant, everyone eats a light meal. The more rich foods are for the cool of the evening. But you should have something to eat. You haven't eaten all day. This will help keep your mind clear."

"She said this was ghee?"

Niels shrugged. "According to Chander, it's a kind of butter from the milk of the water buffalos. He says they boil it to clarify it, and all the solids are removed. He says it keeps very well in this weather and does not go rancid as quickly."

Marlon tore off a bite-sized piece of bread, dipped it in the little pot and tasted it. "Not bad. A little like toasted butter without the same feeling in your mouth. I kind of like it." He dipped another piece of bread and continued to eat. Then he almost choked, dropped the bread and started scrabbling in his pockets until he found a small silver box.

Niels asked, "Marlon, are you all right? Should I call a doctor?"

Marlon shook his head, and tried to swallow the rest of what was in his mouth. "No, Niels, I'm all right. Just let me try something."

Marlon pulled a small metal device out of his pocket, opened the lid and spun a wheel. Flame leapt up out of the lighter.

"What is that thing? Is it supposed to burst into flame like that?"

"Yes, Niels. Don't worry. It's called a lighter. We use them kind of like permanent matches." He handed the small silver square to Niels.

The governor examined it closely. It had rounded corners, and an etching on the side of some kind of heraldic device with arrows. "That's a very unique device. Do you have more of them?"

Marlon looked down at the floor, and his voice sounded gruff for a moment. "Well, no. This was a gift many years ago from a friend in the army. That was our unit insignia there." He held out his hand, and Niels quickly handed the lighter back.

Marlon kind of cleared his throat, and put the lighter down on the table. "Never mind all that. I've got to try something."

Marlon tore a strip of paper from the edge of one of the reports, dipped it in the ghee until it was well coated, and left it in the little pot, with just a half inch of paper sticking up above the oil. When he held the lighter's flame to the paper, the strip lit, and burned with a clear, smokeless, yellow flame. The paper wasn't consumed in the fire, so it was obviously acting as a wick.

Marlon began practically dancing around the small room. "This is fantastic. You've done it, Niels. This is exactly what we need. How much of this ghee can we get?"

"Are you saying you want to use this food for fuel?"

"I think so. It has the right feel, and all oils have a lot of energy tied up inside. We could use it to heat our boilers. That is, if we can get enough of it."

"My friend, sit down," Niels said. "You're making me tired. I'll see what we can do to get you some more ghee." He stepped to the door of the office. "Chander, can you come in here for a moment?"

The governor's assistant was a local who spoke Danish very clearly, even though he had a strong accent. "Yes, sir? How may I help you, please?"

Niels pointed at Marlon's tray. "Chander, is it possible to get this ghee in large quantities? As though we were going to sell it?"

Marlon laughed. "A couple of tons a least."

Chander looked thoughtful. Finally he said, "I know of a group of merchants who make this in quantity and sell it in the larger cities. Here we are a small village, and have a local source for our needs. But in the cities . . . they require a great deal of ghee. Does it matter how pure it is?"

"What do you mean? There are different levels of purity?"

Chander nodded. "The rich can always find pure ghee, like this. It has the best flavor, and is not burnt. But the poor, who require it to cook their food, have to settle for ghee that has been polluted . . . I mean it has palm oil or other food oils added to extend the pure ghee. It is certainly not as tasty."

"Chander, that's marvelous," Marlon said. "Adulterated ghee sounds like a dream come true for me. I want to ask one more question. Is ghee ever used for lamps or lighting, like this?"

Chander looked a little horrified at the small pot of ghee smoldering away on the table. "I do not know for sure. My mother never used the ghee in this way, but it is possible. Especially in temples and shrines. Why do you want it? Do you have a new buyer?"

"We need fuel for the airship, so that we can return to Europe. Ghee seems like it would be ideal."

****

That evening, some of the young officers were sitting in a drinking establishment in the village of Tharangambadi. There was Magnus, Ulrik, Henning, Gunnar, and Martin. And since Gunnar was there, so was Estela. She didn't let him out of her sight if it were possible.

They were listening to Chander recount the Marlon's odd behavior. "And then he picked up that flaming pot of ghee, and danced into the hallway. I was concerned that he'd spill the burning oil on himself, and we would have to beat it out with our hands."

Everyone at the table laughed. Captain Pridmore was often the subject of discussion with the most senior of the officers of the Royal Anne.

Chander shook his head ruefully. "And to think I went to such effort to find high quality ghee for their dinner. I could have served the meanest quality, and he'd still have been delighted."

Gunnar had Estela by the hand, and their fingers were interlaced. "That is true of almost everything Captain Pridmore does. I was in the workshop the day he showed up wearing that strange yellow camisole with the smiling face. He looked like a vagabond, or a traveling minstrel. And yet he showed no consternation."

Estela lifted her head from Gunnar's shoulder. "Captain Pridmore has always been so gentle with me. He always treats me as if he were a true gentleman. What do you know about his family?"

Gunnar said, "Not much. Herr Pridmore has always been courteous. He speaks to everyone, no matter who. We've almost gotten used to it, really."

Eric, the assistant engineer, frowned. "Chander, are you saying that it's possible we may find enough of this oil to fill our tanks and take us back to Denmark? Your hospitality is wonderful, but I would rather spend the winter in my own home."

Chander put down his cup and shook his head. "I have not dealt with the ghee merchants, but I have heard from my neighbors that they are a difficult group of men. I do not look forward to the negotiations, especially after they find that we want large quantities of their product. They have the reputation of cheats and rapscallions."

That brought another laugh. Estela asked, "Chander, where did you learn such language?"

Chander's white teeth gleamed in the dark room. "Herr Crappé taught me a lot about swearing in the years I've worked for him. He is very adept at the art of oath and insult."

Estela looked thoughtful. "You are doubtful of coming to an agreement with these oil factors? Maybe I could help."

All the young men stared at her as if she had just grown a new head. Gunnar patted Estela's hand. "You don't need to worry, sweet one. We will get you home. We don't want to worry you."

Sparks glinted in Estela's eyes. "Gunnar, are you saying that you don't think I would be able to negotiate with these men?"

Gunnar didn't take the warning seriously. "No, of course not, Estela. Negotiating with a factor is man's work. You don't need to do that anymore. I'm going to take care of you now. Don't bother your pretty head."

Estela not only unlaced her fingers from his, she pushed him away and stood up. "If you think so little of my upbringing and abilities, Gunnar Ibsen, I'll be leaving now. I'm going to offer my services as buyer to Captain Pridmore. Perhaps he has more of an appreciation for what a woman can do." Then she spun on her heel, and stomped out of the tavern.

For a moment the young men at the table stared at each other. Then Chander stood and bowed. "It is not proper for a young lady to walk alone after dark. I will accompany her to the fort. Good night, gentlemen."

Gunnar looked at Magnus, Eric, and Henning. "What was that about? Why would she flounce out like that?"

Eric was the only one at the table who was married. His young wife at home, Marina, was expecting their first baby. "Gunnar, go after her. Apologize."

"Apologize for what? What did I do wrong?"

Eric slapped Gunnar on the back. "Does it matter? Make the apology kind of general, and see if that helps."

****

The next day, Herr Lund, Chander, and Estela formed a small parade, followed by several small boys. They walked through the small village, and finally arrived at the shops of the ghee-sellers. Herr Lund was there as the buyer, Chander was the translator, and Estela was the negotiator. Discussions had gone late into the night, but Marlon finally put his foot down and sent Estela along.

Now they sat down with a congenial man, Sanjay Soury. He offered them refreshment, and they accepted. Chander translated their exchanged courtesies, and finally brought the discussion around to ghee.

Estela said very little, watching her opponent on the other side of the table. The man was probably in his forties, but he could be older. It was difficult for her to tell. People didn't seem to age quite the way she was used to here. But she saw a man who was confident in his ability to rake as much money from these foreigners as he could.

Chander opened negotiations. He had been coached extensively by Estela. "We purchased some ghee this week, and want to perhaps have some more. It was of marginal quality, but we feel generous to a man so obviously advanced in years. We don't want to take advantage of our elders."

Herr Soury blinked. He had never been addressed in such a manner by the Danish factors. He signaled his wife, and a light lunch was served. While they were eating, Chander again brought up the possibility of purchasing some ghee.

Herr Soury smiled and held out both hands. His explanation was obsequious. Chander bowed, and turned to Herr Lund. "Our host apologizes, but he has not been able to find higher quality ghee for an affordable price. He says it is because the cattle are not producing milk in any quantity."

Herr Lund leaned over and looked at Estela. She nodded, and whispered to Chander. Chander then asked for several barrels of ghee, ready for travel, to be delivered in three days.

Herr Soury beat his chest, pulled open his shirt and pretended to be about to stab himself in the heart with a rather dull knife, and he even pulled on his hair until he looked like a beggar on the street.

Whenever Chander wavered in the negotiations, Estela would lean over and whisper. Any empathy that he had been feeling would vanish. Then he would attack the negotiations again.

****

Two days later, small boats from the north arrived at the docks. They were filled with barrels of very low-quality ghee.

Marlon stood on the docks with Engineer Jannik and Niels Lund. He was elated. "Niels, you've done well. You said they were sending three tons of the oil? And only for two hundred Guilder? I thought Chander said the ghee-sellers were cheats and liars. How did you do it?"

Niels blushed a little. "I thought I was a good businessman. But after watching Estela bring that man to tears, and wring the oil out of him, I think I'm just an amateur. She has trading in her blood, that's for sure."

Chander still seemed a little worried. "Herr Captain, I would apologize for the quality of the ghee. It is not at all pure. There is very little butter in it and I . . ."

Marlon interrupted. "Chander, I tested the sample you brought home, and I think we'll do better on it than we did on the olive oil from Venice. This stuff is pretty powerful. I don't care, really, how pure it is."

Chander sighed in relief. "Then I'm certain you will be happy with this product. I inspected it before I delivered the payment, and there are no impurities in the fuel oil, and the barrels are consistent. They haven't been artificially weighted."

Niels said, "Chander, we've only been here a week and already you've proved to be a valuable part of my staff. What was Roelant paying you? I'm sure it's not enough. No Dutchman could understand generosity as well as a Dane."

****

As the sun went down Marlon gathered his crew in the large dining room. He invited Niels Lund and Roelant Crappé. Estela was seated to the right of Gunnar.

When everyone was seated, Marlon stood. "Men, we have finished the first half of our pioneering expedition. As your captain, I want to let you know that I am proud of you. We reached Tranquebar safely, and in a very timely manner. We have accomplished what nobody else in the world has done."

He stopped speaking as the room erupted into cheers and hooting. The crew was all enthusiastically celebrating their success. Finally, he held up his hand for silence. "Yes, I agree that we have done something wonderful, but I want to remind you that we are only at the half-way point of our journey. We still have to make it back to Venice and then to Copenhagen to be counted as successful. And to that end, I want to have a bull session. And before any of you jump up to ask me what that means, I'll explain it."

The crew laughed, and then listened again. "Now that we have finished our longest piece of flying so far, I wanted to find out what the problems were, as well as the things that worked out better than you expected. I expect all of you to contribute, because nobody had exactly the same experience. That means that I don't want to hear from just the bridge crew, or just the engineer, Herr Jannik. I want everybody to think of something productive and helpful to say. Even if someone else has said what you planned, please feel free to tell me what you think." Marlon stopped and grinned. "And that's an order!"

There was silence for a moment, then a young man stood in the back of the room. Marlon recognized him as one of the cargo specialists, Torsten. "Herr Captain, I want to say that I don't like the breathing tube. Is it necessary on our flight home?" He sat down among murmurs and nods among his fellow crew members. They all seemed to have the same opinion. Not that I blame them one bit,Marlon thought. I hated the silly thing myself. Couldn't sleep a wink with it on.

"I agree with you," Marlon said. "Trying to work, eat, or sleep with the breathing apparatus strapped to your head is not my favorite form of entertainment. But I find it far preferable to piling into a mountain peak in the middle of the night. If we decide that our course is over some of those tall mountains, yes, we will use the tubes again. I'm sorry, but I value you all too much to risk your lives if I don't have too."

Niels Lund stood. "Herr Captain, I was not a member of your crew, just a passenger. But I have a question as well. Do you intend to fly the same route home again? I also didn't relish the experience of the face mask."

"I chose that altitude because I didn't want to play games with high mountains in the dark. However, from the beginning we had planned going home a different direction. So our course home is south, closer to the equator. We will follow the Arabian Sea across to the Mediterranean. There we turn toward the north and fly up to where we can see Italy and follow the Adriatic Sea up to Venice. This has the great advantage of being fairly low altitude all the way. We don't have to worry about mountains, and now that the wind is changed from the monsoons, we can fly with the wind, close to the equator almost all the way home."

At the mention of the Mediterranean, Estela blanched and grabbed Gunnar's hand. "Don't worry, Miss Estela," Marlon said. "We'll be over the Mediterranean, not on it. Those pirates will never be able to reach us."

Roelant Crappé said, "Marlon, I understand monsoons. I've been here for fifteen years, and seen the weather up close. I know the monsoons are a steady blow, but they are not usually violent. Just a lot of rain. From what Niels has told me, though, I understand that bad weather is very dangerous for your airship."

Marlon went into lecture mode, something his crew was very familiar with. "The greatest enemy of an airship is violent weather. Nothing good can happen in a thunder storm. The best thing an airship can do is run from weather. We've been very lucky so far that no weather or storm line has crossed our path."

Tranquebar

October 2, 1636

The cargo load process had been varied and interesting. Not only was it cargo different than they had loaded previously, but it was extremely more valuable. The spices were actually considered valuable even in India, though not nearly so much as in Central Europe.

Great care had to be taken as each bag and parcel of spices was carefully accounted for and stored. They would have just a little over eight tons of cloves, five tons of nutmeg, five tons of patterned silk from China, and two tons of opium. While they would only be hauling about a tenth of the average cargo ship back from Tranquebar, it would provide significant profit for the return voyage.

****

That evening, Marlon stood in the doorway of the governor's office, talking to Niels. They were admiring the sunset together. In just a couple of weeks, they had become good friends. Marlon said, "After we go, remember to put our hydrogen generation machinery under cover. Please keep it somewhere safe so we can use it on our next trip here."

"Marlon, I know you have the equipment, and I'm planning on keeping it safe from vandalism and such. But what is it really for?"

"It's to generate a fresh batch of the lifting gas for the airship. Before we leave, we will purge all the hydrogen cells, and fill them with fresh gas. That way, we will be more sure that we'll reach Copenhagen again. And having that thing out of the hold will give us half a ton of extra safety on our return trip."

Niels walked to the balcony, and looked out over the sea. The water seemed to be gleaming pewter, reflecting the intense Indian sun. "All right. We'll keep the mechanism safe. What else do we need to do to make sure you return in a timely manner?"

"Well, we definitely need to set up a radio beacon. It will help a lot on navigating to here on another trip."

"Why do you need to leave at midnight tonight? It seems such an odd hour to travel when one has a ship not dependent on the tides."

"If we leave tonight at midnight, we should make all of our navigation checkpoints for course changes in the daytime. The only checkpoint we will have to do in the dark is when we reach Cyprus, and have to turn more north. According to the calendar, the moon will still be fairly bright. We should be able to see the island, and know when to turn."

"It's amazing to think of making navigation checks so far away in so short a time," Niels said. "I can see why you want course corrections in the daylight. It makes sense. And yet, I was never aware we were traveling at such high speeds while I was aboard. Truly a miracle."

The crowd had been growing steadily all week as they loaded cargo. People from all over the countryside had come to see this marvel. And they were camping all around waiting for the chance to see the great airship fly. The trade colony had been forced to put up a fence around the perimeter the fields, just to keep the people from overwhelming the men.

Marlon stepped back into the office. "Well, I guess this is it. I'm going onboard until it's time for us to leave. I don't know how soon the next airship will be able to return. I don't think I'll be the one flying. But we're not leaving you hanging out here on the end of a limb."

"As long as you send someone back some time in the next twelve years. That's the end of my contract. I want to go home on the airship if possible. I'm not sure I'd survive the sea voyage."

Marlon grinned and shook Niels' hand. "Good luck to you."

"And to you, Marlon. God go with your return journey, and at least write me a letter describing the king's face when he sees the loot you're taking home. I'd love to be there for that."

****

Martin had drawn almost the last watch on the observation deck. Mindful that he was taking care of his ride home, he paid careful attention to his duty. He wasn't even drowsy, even though it was not quite time for their midnight launch.

There! Far to the north and east Martin could see the faint flickers of lightning. He stepped to the speaking tube. "Attention on deck. You need to send a message to the captain. I can see lightning to the far northeast. We may have a storm coming." Martin turned back to look at the storm. Yes, it could be coming closer. He hoped it wouldn't be a problem.

****

Marlon was packing up the last of his paperwork when there was a knock on the door. "Yes?"

Jan's voice came through the door. "Captain? There is a report from observation. It looks like a storm is coming."

I knew it couldn't last; it's been too long since we had bad weather, Marlon thought. "Sound the recall. We're almost ready to go, we might as well go now."

At two hours before midnight, Marlon sat in his command chair on the bridge. His guests were safely ensconced in their accommodations, and everything was ready.

As the ramp of the airship was pulled up, he heard cheers rise up from the surrounding crowd. He grinned at his bridge crew. "Everybody ready?"

There was a chorus of, "Yes, sir."

"Fine. Release the cart." As Marlon finished the sentence, he could hear the cables dropping away from the rear the airship. The cart that kept the airship steady and rotated within the wind was now released. It would be left behind for their return.

"Bring the engine revolutions up to counter the wind and push us up against the mast a little." The hum from the propellers rose in pitch.

"Release the pin! Drop revolutions of the engines. Let us slide back a little. Drop ballast so we can gain a little altitude. We want to get up high enough to avoid those lightning strikes."

The airship drifted slowly inland, all the time gaining altitude.

Everyone on the bridge was busy and efficient. Marlon's was the only voice heard until his orders were repeated through the tube. "Set course west northwest. Set revolutions for seventy knots." Marlon breathed easier when he heard confirmations echoed back to them from across the control room. "Set altitude at five thousand feet."

The fortress of Tranquebar slipped away in the moonlight. They had begun their journey home.

****

Marlon climbed up to observation. "So where is our storm?" he asked Martin.

Martin pointed. "There to the north, and a little bit east. I can't tell if we're out-running it or not. It stretches in a long line just north of us and the wind is pushing south and west."

"Don't forget to harness yourself up here. If it catches us, we can't afford to lose you."

Marlon climbed back down into the airship and proceeded to the bridge. "Okay, everyone, this is not something I ever really wanted to experience, but it looks like that storm is going to catch us."

The bridge crew appeared more determined than ever.

Marlon looked over to where Estela sat near Gunnar. "I'm sorry, Estela, but in this kind of situation, I think you will be safer in your cabin. Gunnar needs to be able to concentrate on the helm, and doesn't need to worry about you as well."

Estela looked as if she would argue, but Gunnar laid his hand across her hand, and shook his head. "It's true. I want you to go to your cabin and wait. I'll come for you as soon as I can."

Without another word, the girl hurried off the bridge.

Marlon watched her out the door, then turned back to Eric, at the flight engineer station. "Wake up all shifts. Make sure everything, and I mean everything is tied down. Then have the men assume their emergency stations."

Eric began issuing orders on the speaking tube, then Marlon continued. "Bring us up to maximum revolutions. Maybe we can outrun most of this bad weather. There is a chance, just a small chance, that we can outrun the storm."

Roelant stepped onto the bridge and waited for a moment of quiet. Then he stepped over next to Marlon at the window. "Well, Captain. What kind of chance do we have? Are we going to be burned out of the air by the lightning?"

Marlon was quiet for a moment. "I'll tell you a story that may help you sleep. Airships, especially larger airships, usually ride through the sky in a majestic fashion. There was a story from the old timeline about an airship called the Hindenburg. One time, on a bet, one of the passengers stood a fountain pen on its end, on the table. Then the other passengers placed wagers on how long it would stand on end before it fell over."

When he didn't continue, Roelant finally asked, "Well, what happened? How long did it stand?"

Marlon laughed. "The Hindenburg weighed more than one hundred and fifty tons. It took a lot to shake her. That pen stood undisturbed for three days. Finally, the man who owned the pen claimed all the wagers, and put the pen back in his pocket."

Everyone knew when the storm struck twenty minutes later. The airship shuddered, and the winds outside pounded on the envelope and howled around the windows. The helm whipped back and forth even though they had already put two people on the wheel. They were working furiously to keep the wind from disturbing the trim of the control surfaces.

Everyone aboard was at their stations, carefully watching for anything to happen. An hour later, the view ahead had begun to clear and a few stars were becoming visible. But the buffeting, if anything, had increased. It was if a giant's fist was pounding and squeezing the airship.

Then, audible to everybody aboard, there was a loud crack.

Marlon got on the general announcement and said, "Find out what broke right now, and make sure it gets secured."

A whistle came over the tube and Eric reported. "Engineering reports that a beam above the port side stabilizer has cracked, and is protruding through the fabric of the envelope. Jannik thinks we might be bleeding hydrogen."

Marlon was out the door of the bridge before Eric finished, and only heard the last few words as he climbed into the body of the airship. At the top of the cargo hold, he hurried aft, working his way outboard.

On one of the support beams, he looked up to see four crew members already struggling with a cracked stringer. Tue Strang, the night helmsman, was doing a good job of supervising the other crew members. They had two pieces of wood they were using as a kind of splint. Right now, they were struggling to wrap a line about it to make a splice in the beam. A fifth man was threading sail-making needles, preparing to close the rip in the skin. Marlon watched, careful to stay back out of their way.

Maybe it was because he was concentrating so hard, or possibly just because they had finally outrun the storm, but the buffeting and furor seemed to decrease outside the airship. The beam was finally spliced up, and the sewing commenced on the cloth skin.

Marlon asked Tue, "So, how does it look?"

"Well, sir, it's not pretty, but it's solid. We should be fine now."

"Did the broken stringer pierce the gas bag? Are we bleeding hydrogen?" Marlon tried mightily to keep panic out of his voice, but he wasn't sure how successful he was.

Strang mopped his face with a kerchief. "No, I don't think so. It only tore the skin, as far as we can tell."

"That's great. Spread the word to make sure everybody checks in. Then have one of the cooks examine everybody for injuries. When people get excited, they may not even notice that they're hurt."

He left the men to their work and headed down to Engineering. Jannik and his men were rushing about on unknown tasks, but it reminded Marlon more of a gang of organized ants than a swarm of confused bees. "Jannik, report. How'd we come through the storm?"

"No problems down here, Captain. I heard we were bleeding hydrogen."

"I was just up checking and Tue already has the break under control. It looks like the gods were watching over us. They're sewing up the skin, but didn't detect a rip in the gas bag. I'll send someone up at daylight to test, but so far, we're all right."

****

After the storm, the trip proceeded with no real trouble. As the night advanced, Marlon finally calmed down enough to try and sleep. "Boys, I'm going back to my cabin. Wake me at five for the morning fix. I want to take it right at dawn. And let me know if you need anything, because I'm headed back past the galley."

The two men manning their stations just nodded and waved Marlon away. Eric grinned. "Go get some sleep. I'm just glad I'm not totally in charge like you are."

Marlon walked back to his cabin. At least I have a cabin. Most of the guys are sleeping in Annex One, between the frames. He took off his jacket, and threw himself on his bunk. He was asleep before they reached the ocean.

****

The dawn fix put them just exactly where they should be. Marlon sighed in relief. "Continue on course and let me know if anything changes."

The sea glittered in the sunlight. He could tell by looking at the crests of the waves below that the wind was blowing from behind them. He and the navigator were at the front of the bridge, doing the calculations for the morning.

Marlon picked up a chart. "According to my calculations, tomorrow's dawn should put us at the end of the Arabian Sea before we have to cross the land to reach the Mediterranean. Make sure the navigation fixes are taken with care. I need to go back to my cabin and fill out some reports."

What he really did was amble into the galley for breakfast. They would be in the air for another couple of days, and he no longer felt as worried about finding his destination. Venice should be very easy to find, and they would be in radio contact quite some time before the city was in sight.

These days Estela felt comfortable enough with the whole crew that she didn't need to be by Gunnar's side at all times. This morning she was in the kitchen arguing with the cook.

"Henning, you may have cooked on board sailing ships before, but I'm telling you that you have overcooked my eggs. Let me show you what I mean."

And before the man could say another word, Estela had his pan in her hand and was cracking eggs into it over the fire. Marlon backed out of the galley quickly, knowing that he didn't want to be in the middle of that discussion. He hurried back to the night station, and got a cup of coffee and a roll. Lunch would come soon enough, and it was possible that by then the small storm that was buffeting the galley would be over.

****

Sunset brought them to within sight of the Arabian Peninsula. Marlon stood in the observation dome. The land was really inhospitable looking, only tiny patches of green as far as he could see.

He handed the binoculars back to Martin. "Alexander the Great lost almost his whole army down there. It seems almost unfair for us to travel it so easily."

He climbed down and went to the bridge. When he sat down in the command chair, he noticed that the helmsman and navigator were looking at each other. "What's up? You two look like you have a question. What is it?"

From his chart-filled table, Frode spoke up. "Martin told us on the speaking tube what you said in the dome. You talk of the greats of history as if you knew them."

Marlon settled in his chair. He relished discussions like this. "Well, history has always been something of a hobby of mine. I guess I've always wanted to see the places I've read about. I've always wondered what it was like, and what I would have done there."

He stood and walked over to the window next to the navigator's table. "And here we are flying over the very places where the history that I've studied happened. It's an astonishing feeling at times."

****

By midnight, Marlon saw that they were passing over a narrow strait, the Arabian Sea according to the maps. "Wake me up early for the navigation fix, like you did today."

Morning showed them still on course. He knew they were over Persian territory. Someday, this would be disputed territory between Iran and Iraq, but now it probably belonged to the Ottomans.

As the day progressed, the airship began to rise from the heat. Engineer Jannik stepped onto the bridge, and brought the situation to Marlon's attention. "Sir, we've gained almost a thousand feet, and not dropped any ballast. Should we bleed off the cells a little and maintain five thousand?"

Marlon stroked his beard. "Let the airship rise. I don't want to bleed off any hydrogen at this point in the journey. When it cools off, we'll sink again. We should be just fine. I don't think it'll push us up to the thinner air, so we won't have to use the hoses."

All day, the heat pushed the airship higher and higher. Below was almost endless broad desert, spread out in all directions. The dusk navigation fix came in with them pretty much where they were supposed to be according to the charts.

For some time Marlon had been staring out the window of the control gondola. He seemed to be examining the landscape very thoroughly, as if he was looking for landmarks.

The navigator stood beside him. "Sir, are we off course? What are you searching for?"

Marlon looked up as if he had been a long distance away. "No, we're fine, I'm not searching. I've just wanted to see this country for some years now. Ever since I read a couple of books back up-time."

He looked at the desert below. Then he saw it, a shadowy line of trees stretching off to the east. By then, Eric and Gunnar had joined them at the window.

"There it is. I'm sure of it." Marlon started grinning, and pointed to the ground. "Look down there on the river. That's the same line there. It's the canal that goes across toward the capital of Persia. It was once very important in trade to this part of the world. And if the book I read was accurate, then right there on the river there would've been a dam. In the story they broke it and flooded the whole river valley."

Gunnar looked down at the river. "This was from a book?"

Marlon nodded, his grin growing even bigger, if possible. "Yes, one of my favorites, as a matter of fact. It's a science-fiction book, in a series I was reading. There was a huge army besieging Babylon down the river from here. So the Romans broke the dam and the flood destroyed the invading army.

"It was a really good series. In fact, there was another book coming out. And then the Ring of Fire happened, and I never got my book. I have really wondered what was going to happen next. Traveling to India brought it all to mind. Guess I'll never find out, though. Not now."

****

Marlon stretched and grinned. "This is turning into a dream trip, with no problems. I'm going below to have dinner, and then read for a while. Wake me up at midnight. We need to make that turn north, so I'll take the midnight shift. That way I'll be here to watch for Cyprus to make our course correction."

At midnight, the course correction was made successfully. The waning moon was still almost full. It shone down on the Aegean sea and made Marlon think Homeric thoughts until dawn.

The dawn fix put them between Greece and the coast of Turkey. The day progressed with the sparkling Mediterranean shining perfectly blue under the Royal Anne. Weather showed no signs of danger, in fact there was hardly a cloud in sight.

Finally the coast of Italy was sighted. "Turn us north; we're coming home." Marlon was feeling exhilarated. He'd slept much of the day, and now everything seemed like a simple walk-through.

"We're . . . what? About four hundred miles out. Are you getting anything on the radio?"

Eric's answer came back. "Not yet, but we'll keep trying."

Later that afternoon, the radio station in Venice could be heard clearly. Marlon grinned from his command chair. "Well, if we can hear them, they can receive us. Contact the embassy in Venice and tell them we're coming in to land. And tell the factor for the Stone family that I've got his package."

****

If the first arrival of the airship in Venice had been treated with fanfare, the second arrival was almost unbelievable. The airship arrived over Venice just before sunset, and the crowds were in the streets, on the bridges, and in boats on the canals all over the city.

Gunnar swung the airship to come in from down wind and ease up to the mast. The docking maneuver was almost routine. Marlon hung out a window, and shouted to the crowd below, "We have indeed returned from far India."

The crowd cheered wildly, and Marlon was almost beyond giddy at having succeeded such a great flight.

****

Marlon told the crew that if they got everything off-loaded and reloaded by four o'clock, they could all have a six-hour pass. They worked like maniacs, and cleared the decks by three thirty.

Finally he was alone onboard. He knew that someone had pulled the short straw, and was sitting on the observation deck. But otherwise, it was nice to have some real quiet. Marlon was planning to speak with Reva on the radio after dark.

By 10:15, almost everyone had reported back to the ship. Estela had not gone far, just meeting some of the women of the island, and exchanging gossip about the trip and the trading.

Eric tapped on Marlon's door. "Captain, Gunnar's not back yet. Everybody else is accounted for, and several of them are already asleep so they can be up and about for the night shift. But nobody's seen Gunnar."

"Nobody? Where's Estela?" Marlon was already pulling on his boots. He'd had a little nap after calling Reva, and he felt a little confused and sleepy.

"She's in her cabin, crying her eyes out. Nobody can get a word out of her, except in Portuguese. And since none of us understands a word she's saying, we're not sure what's happened."

"Okay, Eric. I'll see what I can do." Marlon ambled down the corridor to Estela's room. He could hear sobbing as he came to the door and knocked.

The door flew open, but he watched as the hope in the girl's eyes faded as she was faced, not with her Gunnar, but only with the old captain.

"No, Herr Pridmore, I don't know where Gunnar is. I'm beginning to think that he has deserted me, and is running away. Why else would he disappear and not come back? He wouldn't tell me where he was planning to go, he just said that he had some business, and couldn't tell me what it was." Estela returned to her bed to sob into her pillow. Marlon resisted the urge to pat her shoulder, and went to the bridge.

There he found Claus and Frode with their heads together, whispering. He strode over, and grabbed their collars. "All right, boys. You know Gunnar better than anyone on this airship. You've been friends with him from before you were recruited. You know where he went. Out with it. What's going on?"

The cook and the navigator looked up, with guilt all over their faces. For at least thirty seconds, neither one said anything. Finally, Claus looked at Frode. "I'm going to tell him. I think Gunnar's in trouble."

Marlon let go of their shirts and sat down. And before Frode could stop him, Claus looked Marlon in the eye. "Gunnar went down on the docks to find out what he could about Estela's father. He's in love with the girl, and thinks that with his pay from this voyage, he'll have enough to get a house, and propose marriage. But before he can do that, he needs to speak to whatever family she has left."

Marlon knew that the two young people were very firmly attached to each other. He just didn't know that Gunnar was fully ready for such a big step. "I'm glad you told me, Claus. I may be able to find him, and get him back aboard before we launch. You two stay on this ship. I don't want to be looking for more than one at a time."

****

Marlon called the USE embassy by radio. By the time he reached the canal, a group of men met him, ready to search. First they went to all the Portuguese ships in the harbor, and then to all the factors that handled Portuguese goods.

Finally, around one in the morning, Gunnar was located. He was haggling with an old Arab over the price of a small gold ring. The Arab was trying to hold him up for more money than the young man had. But with the arrival of several bullies from the Murano, he relented, and sold the ring to Gunnar for a good price.

Marlon met the rescue party at the foot of the ramp. When Gunnar saw him, his shoulders sagged. He stood in front of his captain like a prisoner facing a firing squad.

"Gunnar, just tell me. Are you really serious about marrying this girl?" Marlon's voice was not that of the angry commander, but more like a friend of the family.

Gunnar's eyes lit up at the thought of Estela. "Oh, yes, sir. I can't think of anything I want more that that."

"Well, that's fine, Gunnar. For as long as I've known you, you've always been a very dependable young man. I think you will make a good husband. But tell me what you found out about her father."

"It was the same story all over the Portuguese dock. Her father was killed in a struggle with the pirates, and she has no other close relatives. Even if the pirates had been able to find someone and demand ransom, they wouldn't have gotten it. She would have been sold into slavery if we hadn't . . ." Gunnar's eyes were clouded with a mixture of anger and unshed tears.

Marlon said, "I see. Well, you're late returning to duty, but I'll overlook it this time. Just don't let it happen again."

****

Gunnar cleared his throat. "Sir, I wish to ask for Estela's hand. I have a good job as helmsman of the greatest airship in the world. I have a small piece of land that was left to me by my paternal grandfather, and intend to build a small house on it for our family. If something should happen to me that I would be unable to work on the airship, I have training as a dock worker, and I would still be able to support Estela and our children."

Marlon nodded. "That all sounds good, Gunnar. But I need to know how you feel. Is this a financial arrangement in order to inherit whatever claims she still may possess of her family's holdings? Or do you care about the girl herself?"

Gunnar blinked tears from his eyes. "Sir, from the moment I saw her, and pulled her from that wagon, I have loved her. She is beautiful, and smart . . . she will argue with anyone if she thinks she is right. And I heard from Chander just exactly what she did to negotiate for our fuel oil. I'm reminded of it every time I climb up to the Annex and pass the engine room, because I can smell the toasted butter smell of the ghee. I love her, and I can't imagine living without her."

Marlon stood up and grinned. "That's what I was hoping to hear. Let's go find your girl, and tell her that she has my blessing to marry you, if she's foolish enough to be willing to take responsibility for your foolishness."

Estela had come out of her room when she heard Marlon's voice, and when she saw Gunnar, she launched herself at him from ten feet away.

It took a little bit of untangling, but as soon as Gunnar had set her on her feet, he went to his knee. He looked up at the light of his life. "Estela, will you consent to marry me?"

Estella stopped a sob by pressing very hard on her lips. "You mean it? Even though I'm an orphan? There may not be any . . ."

"I don't care! All I want is you!"

Estella let the sob escape, then threw her arms around Gunnar. "Oh, yes. Yes, yes, Gunnar. I'll marry you!"

****

As the sun came up, there was a sense of tension onboard that Marlon had not felt before. More of the crew were at the windows, watching the mountains slide by.

On the bridge, Eric, Gunnar and the navigator were all distracted as well. Everyone was impatient to get home. Marlon went to the window and pointed. "There! That's the Zugspitz, the highest of the alps. Now we can turn north. Bring us about."

It was about three in the afternoon when Marlon caught sight of Copenhagen. Kerchiefs waved from every window, and the city was prepared. Flags were flying and cannons were fired from the walls as the airship appeared. Mobs of people crowded around the Flughaven, and filled the streets of the city.

Marlon said, "Gunnar, Bring the airship around downwind, and dock us. We're home."

****

Marlon and his crew marched down the carpet like conquering heroes. He bowed to King Christian, and then handed His Majesty a packet covered with ribbons and seals. With a look of pride, he turned and announced, "Tons of cargo, and not a man lost."

King Christian grinned like a lion, contemplating the cargo in front of him. "Captain Pridmore, Denmark is proud of your efforts."

"Your Majesty, I present Eric Strand, flight engineer. Jannik Lynnggard, Chief Engineer. Gunnar Ibsen, Helmsman. Frode Nillsen, navigator."

The introductions continued until each man had bowed to the monarch. The last down the stairs was Roelant Crappé with Estela on his arm.

Marlon turned to the King. "Your Majesty, this is Herr Roelant Crappé. And he is accompanied by Senhorita Estela Diaz Sansão."

"Marlon, you amaze me. No matter what miracles you do, you always have one more up your sleeve. How did you manage to have such a beautiful woman to distract me from the cargo you brought home?"

Marlon cleared his throat a little. "Well, Your Majesty, it wasn't exactly planned. We had occasion to rescue her from Ottoman slavers. We just couldn't let those heathens have such a flower of Christendom."

"Very nice. We have planned a celebration in the palace. Please have all your men attend. There are people here that can handle the ship and its cargo. Get them cleaned up and ready for the party. And of course, bring this young lady along."

After being dismissed, Marlon excused himself from the rest of the crew. "I've got something onboard I've got to take care of right quick. Get yourselves over to the palace."

****

Marlon finally got up to one of the seawalls that was near the airfield. There sat Reva, just as he thought she would. Reva was never one for large crowds and a lot of speeches. "I got you something special. Here, tell me what you think."

Reva laughed. "Never mind that, Swordfish. I get a hug, first, don't I?"

Marlon wrapped his arms around his wife, and swung her around in a circle, kissing her as if he hadn't seen her in a year. Then he set her on the ground and handed her a leather sack. It had a small blue ribbon that tied it shut.

"What's this now?" Reva's eyes were sparkling like they had when he asked her to marry him so many years ago. Upon opening the package, she pulled out several smaller packets. "What's all of this?"

Marlon just grinned. "You've just got to open everything, I guess."

Reva pulled out containers of spices, some jewelry, and one more piece, wrapped in brown paper.

"Oh, I think you'll like this one the best." Marlon held out his hands for everything else, so Reva could open the brown paper. As she pulled away the wrapping, silk as blue as the Mediterranean Sea flowed out. It seemed to go on forever.

"Oh, Marlon, this is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." She grabbed him and nearly knocked the silk and the spices to the ground in her efforts to give him another kiss.

After a long moment, Marlon let go. "I've been invited to the palace for some kind of party. Want to go?"

Reva laughed. "Do you think I can smuggle you out early?"

"That's the best idea I've heard all day."

****