• Published 8th Apr 2019
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Through the Aurora - Starscribe



Theo knew arctic research was dangerous. He didn't know those dangers involved getting sucked into other worlds, changing into a bird, and having to somehow find a way home. Turns out it was more dangerous than he thought.

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Chapter 10: Up Above

The Horizon was many things. Sturdy, comfortable, and even safe. But fast? Not so much.

They couldn’t outrun the storm. As the huge black clouds began to close in on them from behind, Sharp called Theo to the door leading down, offering her a safety harness. “Get this on, and get clipped in. I’m going to act like you can’t fly for this if that’s okay.”

“Yeah, it’s fine,” she said, shrugging into the harness quick enough. She still wasn’t sure about her body in this strange world, but she was getting better at moving. Besides, this was really just a few ropes to tighten into the right places. Once it was on, Sharp clipped her into a metal bar with a thick, elastic line just like the one he was wearing.

“I’m coming too!” Emerald declared, tightening the scarf about her shoulders and making for the door behind them. Sharp shook his head. “I have something more important for you, Emerald.”

That tactic seemed to work, far better than tricking her away. She stopped. “What is it?”

“Climb to the top deck, and work the helm. I need you to flip the altitude control all the way up—that’s the lever on the side. Hold it that way, and make sure we stay on our heading. Can you do that?”

“Yeah!” She beamed, backing away. “I’ll go straight there!” And she did, running up the stairs and out of sight.

“Celestia help us if she gets swept up in the winds—the poor creature has suffered enough to end up stranded on some storm cloud in the middle of nowhere.”

“Stranded on a…”

But Sharp didn’t stop long enough to answer her confusion, climbing down into the open engine bay. A massive boiler was down here, with a rotor overhead connected to the propellers on either side of the ship. There was also storage down here—boxes of tools from the workshop, a supply of coal. It was the floor that didn’t exist. The engine was so large that it hung out the back of the ship, providing a convenient way for the smoke to leave without filling the chamber with carbon monoxide.

Wooden platforms surrounded the engine on all sides, but directly below it was only empty air. The ship was open behind them too, providing a clear view at the oncoming storm wall.

It was so massive at this distance that it defied understanding, black and angry and flashing with lightning inside.

Then Emerald reached the controls, and they tilted violently upward. Theo lost her footing, sliding along the safety rail until she smacked into Sharp.

The earth pony barely buckled, resting a hoof on her shoulder and helping her into a sitting position. “Easy, Summer!” he shouted, over the roar of the engine and the distant storm. “Are you good?”

She blushed, then nodded. “I think I’m… yeah. I’ll be fine. What am I helping with?”

“I’m trying to push the engine,” he said. “Give us a little more speed. If the gasbag gets caught in those winds, we’re done!”

She shuddered, picturing what it might be like to fall out of the sky in a tight wooden box. That’ll be an embarrassing way to die. Why didn’t the bird fly to safety? She didn’t know how to use her wings.

“Right. Tell me what to do.”

Sharp seemed to know every aspect of the engine. It took him only seconds to get the housing retracted, and to make a few slight adjustments with his wrench. The propellers on either side of the ship roared to sudden life as the engine accelerated—and started to smoke.

“It’s okay!” he called, pointing. “We knew this would happen! Just… bring me that, yeah. I’ll have to cool the cylinders manually, or else they might crack. If that happens…”

They worked at a feverish pace. Theo rushed from one tool to the next, bringing them to the engineer in her mouth and not showing her terror. I’m getting out of this. I’m getting home. I’m not getting killed by some dumb blizzard.

There were a dozen ballast ropes here, all dangling bags of sand and rocks over the edge. Sharp cut them all, lightening the Horizon as much as they could.

“It’s a balancing act!” he shouted, working a knob that seemed to be wired into the ceiling. “Higher we go, bigger the gasbag expands! Too big, and it bursts. So we have to let out some gas. Eventually you just can’t go any higher!”

Theo watched, amazed, trying desperately not to think too much about what they were doing. She wasn’t sure about how high balloons could travel on Earth, and how high thunderstorms rose into the atmosphere. Were they doomed?

Apparently not in Equestria. The Horizon crested the edge of the storm, briefly digging deep gouges in the edge of the strangely-solid clouds. Edge flopped to one side, pointing up with one hoof. “That switch there, big red one. Flip it.”

She did, and the engines abruptly went still. There was only the sound of wind whistling around them. Through the open floor, the clouds roared below, occasionally lighting up with lightning. If they sunk even a little bit, those raging winds would tear them down and bash them into the icy ground.

“Now…” he was panting. “That box, open it. Bring it… here.”

She did, watching Sharp with increasing concern. He’d never seemed so frail before. What was wrong? She pried the box open with the crowbar, far better at it now that she was on her third crate. Inside were several metal canisters, painted green, with a tube and a mask on one end.

That’s right, he said he would need air! He’s not… made for altitude. She lifted one carefully, bringing it over to Sharp. “Here!” She offered him the mask, then fumbled with the valve. Pony tanks were made to hug a hoof and twist, but she had claws to grip them, making it a little trickier. She twisted until it reached the arrow etched on the tank, and she heard a steady hiss from the other end.

Sharp sat up, his back against the Horizon’s wooden shelves. “Well buck if that wasn’t close. Might need a few spare gaskets for her after that.” He closed his eyes, sipping on the hiss of gas from the mask as though it were a delicious beverage.

I guess I really was adapted for this, she thought, wondering if she should be breathing from a tank too. Maybe she felt a little lightheaded, if she tried to move too quickly. But she barely noticed. “I’m going to check on Emerald,” she said, grinning weakly. “Are you okay down here?”

“Yeah,” he said, after another few seconds of sipping from his mask. “I’ll just… recover for a bit. We can… do supper over the storm. Nothing quite so invigorating as danger.”

She wasn’t sure she agreed—but then again, there was something to be said for working hard beside a pony like Sharp, with the crushing destruction of a storm behind them and open air ahead.

She emerged onto the top deck, and was nearly blasted right off from below. She squealed in protest, but there was no more safety harness to stop her from slipping. She let her claws dig into the wooden deck again, catching her breath.

Emerald turned to glance at her, both hooves firmly on the helm and biting her tongue in concentration. There was no sign of altitude sickness in her either, except maybe her pupils.

The engines stopped humming, and the ship was silent except for the occasional blast of wind and the rumble of thunder from the storm down below. Even so, she moved slowly up to the helm. “Great job, Emerald. Sharp wanted me to get you. We made it.”

“I’ve been trying to take us higher!” She sat, gesturing to her leg still resting on the altitude lever, all the way up. “But we’re not ascending!”

“No, we don’t need to,” she repeated, calling a little louder over the sound of rushing wind. “Let’s level off. We can tie off the wheel and go below for dinner.”

Was she still upset at Theo for the news about her mother? She braced for anger at any moment, though the pony hadn’t retreated from her like before. That was a good sign, right? “I can’t believe we raced a wild storm!” she said, wrapping the control lines through the helm, so it wouldn’t turn to either side anymore, before following her down. “That’s the kind of thing they tell stories about!”

Theo felt quite a bit better about the altitude once the door up to the top deck was latched. The Horizon might be made of glass and wood, but at least she could pretend they were somewhere reasonably safe. The gasbag didn’t sound like it was going to tear the lines right off anymore.

Sharp was already sitting at one of the chairs, the tank of air resting beside him. “I hope I’m not imposing much to ask my potential new apprentice to cook supper,” he said, still sounding weak. “I’m afraid the exertion of this trip was… more than I initially anticipated.”

“No problem, Sharp.” Emerald saluted. “I had time to think during the flight. I do think I want the job.” She glanced briefly up at Theo, then away, wincing. “Is Summer our first mission?”

He nodded. “Advancing Equestria… has always taken place at the fringes. There’s nothing useful to be learned in the places that ponies already understand. That’s the land of bureaucrats. We’re on the frontiers—like Star Swirl of old. Summer is part of that.”

That’s not my name, she thought, opening her mouth to correct him. But then she saw Emerald’s smile, and the words caught in her throat. “I’ll make it for you too, Summer. Keep my new master from losing consciousness up here. I don’t think either of us know how to fly the Horizon.”

“We don’t,” she agreed, nodding appreciatively.

They ate in the clouds, letting the storm drag them along. “We’ll wait for it to pass before we descend, though we’ll want to do it slow. Trouble with dropping all our ballast like that is we can’t really go up again. If we land, that’s it. So we’ve got to make sure we land in the Crystal Empire.”

Theo nodded, finishing another hay cake. They were bland, but at least they were warm. “Maybe you can show me how all that works. In case we have to go up this high again.”

“Hope we don’t,” Sharp said, grinning weakly. He set the mask down every now and then, to eat or drink, though he kept it on all the time otherwise. “This air costs a small fortune. You won’t believe how hard it is to get bottled oxygen.”

“I’m guessing harder than it should be,” she answered, standing with her empty plate and taking it to the sink. The Horizon even had running water, though the tank was too small for anything more than a toilet and a sink for drinking and washing. “I might be able to help with that. It was never my field, but… I have a few things on my tablet. I’m pretty sure I remember how the liquid oxygen generator works.”

Liquid?” Sharp shook his head. “We’re not dealing in magic here, Summer. I just need to breathe. But honestly, the Horizon doesn’t like being up this high any more than I do. Sooner we can get down, the better it will be for all of us. Feel that chill? I’ve got a full load of coal in the burner, but the air is so thin, and the cold out there is so… cold. Even pegasus ponies don’t stay at this height for long. Particularly foals.”

“I’m no foal, master Sharp Edge,” Emerald muttered, yanking his plate away in her teeth. She muttered something angry on her way across the room, but Theo couldn’t hear what it was. “I’m doing fine.”

She wasn’t. Theo could see the unsteadiness in her steps, the way she almost dropped the plate on the floor instead of depositing it in the sink. It was subtle, but she was pretty sure she knew hypoxia when she saw it.

When will I start feeling it, though?

Looks like the storm is almost gone,” Sharp said, leaning briefly towards the window. “Come up with me, you two. I’ll teach you how to bring her down.”

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