Age of Voodoo by Lovegrove James

Author:Lovegrove, James [Lovegrove, James]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub, pdf
Tags: Science Fiction
Publisher: Solaris
Published: 2013-02-24T06:00:00+00:00

MOST OF TEAM Thirteen’s bags went into the Turbo Beaver’s freight hold, although two were stowed in the extra cargo space in the floats. The Zodiacs were laid lengthways along the aisle of the cabin, dismantled into their component parts: wooden transoms and thrustboards, aluminium deckplates, deflated neoprene sacs squashed as flat as they could go. Their outboard motors were lodged in the rearmost two seats, belted in place.

“We all set?” said Wilberforce.

Buckler untied the mooring ropes, kick-shoved the plane away from the dock, clambered inside and yanked the door shut. He slid into the seat at the front beside Wilberforce’s. Lex and Albertine occupied the two seats immediately behind. The Team Thirteen shooters filled the remaining four rows.

Lex looked across the aisle at Albertine. She was staring out of the window, gripping the armrests.

“Not a good flyer?” he asked.

“Jumbo jets, no problem,” she replied. “My cousin’s rust-bucket of a seaplane, on the other hand...”

“You think this is bad, you should try taking an internal commercial flight in Russia,” Tartaglione said, leaning forward to talk over her seat headrest. “Those planes are so shit, not even the pilots are sure they’re going to make it to their destination.”

“It would help if they didn’t drink so much vodka while at the controls,” Sampson chipped in. “That’d bring the crash rate right down.”

“Yeah, but it’s a catch-twenty-two. If they didn’t drink, they’d never have the courage to fly.”

“Is this supposed to be helping me?” Albertine asked curtly.

“Just saying things could be a whole lot worse,” said Tartaglione. “Trying to put your mind at ease.”

“Well, thank you, but don’t.”

The engine started up, filling the cabin with noise and vibration.

“Welcome aboard, everyone,” Wilberforce called out. “This is your pilot, wishing you a pleasant trip. Our journey time is approximately one and a half hours, and we’ll be cruising at an altitude of—”

“Cut the crap,” Buckler interrupted. “Just fly.”

Wilberforce glanced round at Lex, who simply gave a nod that said: Eyes on the prize.

“Whatever you say,” said Wilberforce to Buckler. “You’re the boss.”

He let Puddle Jumper continue to drift away from the dock with the propeller turning at a low rate. The river current caught and turned the plane. When its nose was facing downstream, Wilberforce upped the revs and began taxiing along the inlet.

As the inlet widened into an estuary, the going got rougher. The clash between waves surging in from the ocean and the river’s outward flow created a field of spiky whitecaps. Wilberforce eased the throttle forwards, and soon Puddle Jumper was bounding and juddering along, past the inlet’s mouth and out onto the open sea. Everyone in the cabin rocked in their seats. The airframe creaked loudly with every impact of the surf chop, and the wings wobbled disconcertingly. Sea spray spattered the windows. Albertine was intoning words under her breath, and if it wasn’t a prayer to the loa, Lex had no idea what else it could be.

Wilberforce poured on more speed, and the buffeting started to lessen. Puddle Jumper was beginning to skim the waves rather than butting headlong through them.

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