The captain snapped back, Are you joking? Those things are barely lanterns, and if you unhook them from the power source, theyll burn for only a few- He swung the ship hard to the right, responding to some threat Mercy couldnt see. -minutes.
Its better than nothing, aint it? the crewman pressed. Itll get us behind our own lines. Theyll see were one of theirs, and let us land.
Do you want to be the man who climbs outside and tries to hang them, like a row of goddamned Christmas candles? The captain was shouting now, but the crewman didnt flinch.
He nodded. Ill do it. I sailed before I took to the air. Ive dangled from less than our outer hull, sir.
Every face was turned to him, except for the man who steered the dark and bouncing ship through the night. They looked at him with hope, and with bewilderment. Even Mercy wanted to tell him he was mad, but she didnt. Instead she prayed that he was serious.
Youll get yourself shot, the captain told him.
Or well all of us go down in flames. I dont mind taking my chances, sir, he said. Without waiting to be dismissed, he ducked back into the recesses behind the seating area. His fellow mate swung his eyes back and forth, from the authority to his friend.
Ernie, he called into the dark place behind the back nooks curtain. Ernie, Ill come with you. Ill help out.
Ernies head popped back out, splitting the curtains. His shoulders and torso followed, and his right hand appeared toting a cluster of strangely shaped lanterns that glowed like lightning bugs. Their gleam cast a yellow green glow around the cabin, not so bright that it could be seen from the ground, surely.
The old woman said crossly, Those things dont have near enough light. Theyll never reveal our sign from the field.
But Ernie said, Maam, theyre turned down low, on purpose. For now. Ill spark them up when I get outside-and theyll stay real bright for four or five minutes. They run on an electrical charge, and a static liquid on a set of filaments, he explained, as if anyone present had the faintest clue what it meant. When I flip the switch, itll light up the whole damn sky, plenty enough for the Rebs to spy us and let us down. Captain, he said as he changed direction, get us as far behind our own lines as you can, sir.
Mercy fidgeted with the seat back in front of her. Is there anything we can do to help? she finally asked.
She could hardly see Ernies face, even in the ambient ooze of the lanterns.
He said, No maam. Just hold on tight, Ill take care of this. Or Ill do the best I can, anyhow.
Ernest, the captain said, making some token attempt to stop him or sway him. But he had nothing else to add, so he turned his attention forward. The dirigible swayed again, making Mercy wonder if he could see some of the threat as it fired up at them through the sky. Ernest, he finally finished. Be careful out there. What are you wearing?
Sir?
Wearing-, he said again, and looked very fast over his shoulder. I see. Youre sporting your grays. Throw on something darker. Robert, give him your jacket. Yours is black, isnt it?
Yes sir, said the other crewman. He pulled it off and tossed it to Ernie, who set the lamps down only long enough to don it.
Ernie nodded his thanks and retrieved the lamps, then mounted a ladder that Mercy hadnt seen until just that moment. He leaped up it like a small boy scaling an oak. Shed never seen a man climb like that before, as if he were born in a tree.
He was gone, his feet disappearing up a hatch.
Another strip of rounds banged against the ships underside, casting a horrible noise into the otherwise stone-silent cabin. Mercy leaned against the window and tried to keep from looking out at the blackness and height that horrified her whether she admitted it or not. Consumed by feelings of uselessness and doubt, she clung to the edge of the seat in front of her.
Above and
beyond, she could hear Ernie climbing, scuttling out some portal in the hull and balancing-she could hear it, or imagine it, the way he stood and gripped and held his breath to keep his angles upright-then half-slipping, half-crawling along the exterior. She could hear the way his hands and feet found handholds and footholds, and the stomp of the toe of his boots hitting horizontally against the hull. She tracked it.
Around. Sideways. Down. Over. Down some more.
Soon he was underneath them, holding on to God knew what.
Under her feet she could feel him, swinging like a monkey from hook to hook, or metallic outcropping to outcropping. The ship ticked, ever so slightly, left to right and forward and back. Ernie wasnt a heavy man-Mercy thought maybe he was 150 pounds, soaking wet with rocks in his pockets-but his gravity was enough to change the flow of the dirigibles progress, and the passengers could feel the faint jerk to the flow through the floor at their feet. It was the tapping pull of his body, slinging from point to point.
Every once in a while, despite the dimming of the lights and the silence of the folks within, a stray antiaircraft bullet dazzled the darkness with a shattering spray of sparks and sound. It was only by luck, all of them knew, that nothing hit harder, or penetrated the hull underneath.