Page 64 of The Sunlit Man

“Yes, but the higher you go, the closer to sunrise you get us. And the more likely we are to be killed by it.” She pointed at the horizon. “At this point, we flirt with getting so high, we no longer have the shadow of the planet’s protection.”

It was true. But itshouldwork. If they kept the timeline. If nothing went wrong.

He ignored the part of him that whispered that somethingalwayswent wrong.

He found the engineers—who had set up under a tent on thedeck, as all the buildings were either being jettisoned or filled with people.

“Time is tight,” Nomad said to them. “We need to start fabricating the boilers.”

“We aren’t ready,” Solemnity Divine said. “We need another iteration.”

“Not enough time,” he said. “Instead of a new engine, we just modify the one we know works.”

He summoned Auxiliary as a rough model of a ship, then turned it over on the bottom. His modifications put a boiler near the engine, hanging off the bottom of the ship. It was the only way to install one quickly, since the tops of these ships were living spaces and they didn’t have time to cut through.

The water towers were on the tops of the vessels, so his design ran large water lines down to the boilers, which superheated the water using sunhearts, then injected it into the engine proper. That, modified by his schematics, spit the steam and heat out the bottom and generated thrust. Not the most efficient engine ever, but the concentrated power source made it viable.

“Look,” he said, pointing at the water line. “Just put an inhibitor right here. Less water in means less water out, and therefore less thrust. Make this inhibitor variable and wire it into the ship controls, so we can increase or decrease thrust at will.”

Solemnity Divine looked at his design, then smacked her forehead. “Right. Of course. Such an easy fix.”

It was a time-tested adage in engineering. Why redesign when you could patch the old model? That led to short-term fixes, but that was all they needed.

“We must do more tests,” another engineer said. “A stress test at least! We don’t know if this design will last longer than a five-minute burn!”

“Install this all on my hovercycle. I’ll take it up the mountain, perform a stress test, and make sure it works. While I’m gone, you get these modifications installed on the remaining ships. Don’t forget lateral thrusting ability—we’ll need to be able to go forward, not just up.”

He left them in a buzz and stepped back over to Contemplation, who watched the sky and that blazing light of a warship. He wondered how much load it put on their shields to withstand the power of that sunlight. It seemed like what he’d felt should overwhelm most shields. Again, his mind itched with the worry that something wasn’t adding up.

“How dangerous are they?” she asked.

“I know of no force more dangerous. They have been known to leave entire planets desolate. Fortunately the Night Brigade aren’t mindless pillagers. They’re a precision force and will do whatever their contract—or in this case, their goal—demands.”

“Then…they could destroy us all.”

“If they wished,” Nomad said. “Thing is, though…destroying a planet? That takeswork, Contemplation. Work they’re not getting paid for. They should leave you mostly alone.” He paused, then glanced toward the hub. “Hopefully they won’t want your shades. They have a thing for ghosts.”

She looked to him, pale, worried. “What kind of mercenary force,” she said, “can control shades well enough to use them as soldiers?”

“If they get close, I’ll leave,” he said. “You’ll be better for it. Tellthe Night Brigade everything—all about me, everything they ask you to tell them. Don’t try to hide anything. Playing dumb won’t drive them away. Comply with everything they ask you to do; make it easier for them to leave you alive than kill you. It’s the only way to escape from them with your limbs—and soul—still attached.”

She nodded. “I will tell the others. Adonalsium—or whatever god you follow—bless your flight, Sunlit.”

“I’ll settle,” he said, “for no gods intentionally thwarting me for once.”

She seemed troubled by that statement—as well she should.

He worked frantically with the engineers. And a short time later, on the back of a small, battery-powered hovercycle, he raced into the shadows.

Powerful floodlights onthe front of the cycle let him see where he was going. A barren rocky mountainside, pocked by holes where trapped gases had blown out. The surfaces were smooth, even glassy, but the jagged edges were unweathered and razor sharp.

As he flew upward, he realized that this was the first time on this planet he’d been truly alone. Even when he’d worked on the schematics, Elegy had been in the room. Now it was just him, Auxiliary, and the darkness. Shaded from the sunlight by a shield that was—by definition—on a planetary scale. He pushed the cycle up the slope and soon encountered snow. His body’s protections had already started to come into play, warming him from within, so he didn’t notice the air temperature. The snow was his first sign that they were getting to dangerously high elevations.

So, the knight says, is this a good time to ask you what we’re goingto do if this works? How do we find the hidden Refuge? We spent the better part of a day searching earlier, and that was when the Cinder King didn’t know what we were up to. It’s going to be far more difficult this time.

“Perhaps,” Nomad said, his breath misting. “Perhaps not. Cities keep to relatively strict latitudes here. I confirmed it with their navigation team. The Cinder King flies Union around the planet in a straight line.”

Okay, so?

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