Page 55 of The Sunlit Man

“You think you all can improve on this?” he asked, gesturing. “Get it right? There’s not a lot of time.”

“We can try,” she said. She sounded uncertain, but she was already making notes on his schematic.

That’s convenient, the hero notes as he watches them fix Nomad’s terrible first attempt.

“Not convenient,” he said. “Expected. It takes a lot of skill and knowledge to keep a city like this flying; this lot are far more competent than they give themselves credit for. They simply needed a nudge. My design takes them ninety percent of the way there. I had the inspiration; now their expertise can fill in the gaps in my practical knowledge.”

Unlike most of the others, the engineers seemed very interested in the way he occasionally spoke in a foreign tongue. To distractthem from that, he leaned in close. “You have work crews, I assume? People who maintain the city?”

“I’ve got a good fifteen people for the task,” Solemnity Divine said. “Why?”

“Because while your top people are working on the engines, I need the others doing something else: making a number of your larger living spaces airtight.”

The five engineers in the huddle frowned, and he realized—for all their experience with flying—they had little understanding of what was going to happen atop those mountains.

“We’re going to a place where the atmosphere gets very thin,” he explained. “Practically nonexistent. No air. No breathing. Fortunately we won’t be there long. Your ships have thick metal hulls, and can probably maintain pressure if we seal them right.”

“We can do that,” she said. “But won’t we suffocate?”

“It’s only for a few hours,” Nomad said. “And we only have to support a hundred and thirty-five people. We’ll pick ten of the largest ships by air volume, divide the people up, and put them inside. We lock those ten ships together, and I’ll fly them. I don’t need to breathe.”

Solemnity Divine blinked. “You…what?”

“I don’t need to breathe,” he said. “Quirk of my heritage. I mean, Ilikebreathing. Feels normal, lets me talk. Better to use natural processes to oxygenate the blood when possible. But I don’t strictly need it. And I can take a vacuum without much trouble. Been doingthatfor decades.”

Sure enough, several of them muttered about the powers of the Sunlit Man. He doubted their lore actually ascribed such specific powers to the hero—these kinds of legends tended to be vague.Too many places had them. And too many, to his chagrin, had been created—either by intent or accident—by his master. Wit had a habit of…starting conversations.

Regardless, Nomad allowed the engineers their assumptions. Explaining the nature of a highly Invested body, and the ways the Spiritual template and Cognitive perception could maintain a body’s status in the face of extreme conditions, seemed like a waste of breath right now.

“I’ll get people working on it,” Solemnity Divine said. “I don’t think this will be a problem, like I said. We’ll prepare these new engines as well as ten ships with airtight compartments, then lock the modified ships around the hub bearing the Chorus, and you’ll guide it from the main deck. All this, we will do, except… I respectfully venture to request thatyoutell the Greater Good about the necessity of abandoning most of our ships.”

He gave her a grim, tight-lipped nod in return. Most of Beacon would have to be left behind. He’d see to it that the city leaders understood.

“Awful trade,” he muttered, but nodded to her. He left them with his schematics and trotted back to the others, where the Greater Good were talking with Zeal and several assistants. Rebeke hovered at the perimeter of the conversation, seeming uncertain if she were welcome or not.

They all turned to Nomad as he approached, seeming to brace themselves. They knew too, didn’t they?

“We’ll have to leave most of Beacon behind,” he said. They obviously needed someone to voice it. “The engineers will pick your ten largest ships, by volume of living space, and prepare those. We’ll dump everything else.”

“To be devoured by the sun,” Compassion said, head bowed. “Our grand city of freedom, Elegy’s vision…”

“It will be a small miracle to get even part of this city to safety,” he said. “You know that. And if we find the Refuge, you’d be abandoning Beacon anyway.”

“That doesn’t mean,” Confidence said, “that doing it won’t hurt.”

“How are we going to find the opening to the Refuge?” Contemplation asked. “If we bring only the largest of the ships, then we’ll be leaving the prospectors behind—meaning no scanning devices.”

“Let’s bring one prospector, then,” Nomad said. “Just in case.”

“We can leave the farming equipment behind,” Contemplation said. “The gatherers that harvest metal from the melted fields…”

“We’ll have meeting halls,” Compassion said, “dining rooms, cargo holds, and places of worship. That’s it. If we don’t find the opening, we’re doomed.”

“We were doomed anyway,” Confidence said. “We chose this because it offered a slim chance.” She fixed her eyes on Nomad. “You can find that doorway? Have you figured out how?”

“I will,” he promised. “You’ll have to rely on me to figure something out.”

“We’re relying on you for a lot,” Confidence said, arms folded.

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