“No, I didn’t expect you to weep.” Toller was dismayed by what he was saying, yet was unable to hold back. “I don’t expect you to feign grief.”

Gesalla struck him across the face, her hand moving so quickly that he was given no chance to avoid the blow. “Never say anything like that to me again. Never make that kind of presumption about me! Now, are we leaving or are we going to stand here and talk all day?”

“The sooner we leave the better,” he said stonily, resisting the urge to finger the stinging patch on his cheek. “I’ll take your pack.”

Gesalla snatched the bundle away from him and slung it from her shoulders. “I made it for me to carry — you have enough to do.” She slipped past him into the corridor, moving lightly and with deceptive speed, and had reached the main stair before he caught up with her.

“What about Sany and the other servants?” he said. “Leaving them doesn’t sit easy with me.”

She shook her head. “Lain and I both tried to talk them into applying for warrants, and we failed. You can’t force people to go, Toller.”

“I suppose you’re right.” He walked with her to the entrance, taking a last nostalgic look around the hall, and went out to the precinct where his bluehorn was waiting. “Where is your carriage?”

“I don’t know — Lain took it yesterday.”

“Does that mean we have to ride together?”

Gesalla sighed. “I have no intention of trotting along beside you.”

“Very well.” Feeling oddly selfconscious, Toller climbed into the saddle and extended a hand to Gesalla. He was surprised at how little effort it took to help her spring into place behind him, and even more so when she slipped her arms around his waist and pressed herself to his back. Some bodily contact was necessary, but if almost seemed as though she… He dismissed the half-formed thought, appalled by his obscene readiness to think of Gesalla in a sexual context, and put the bluehorn into a fast trot.

On leaving the precinct and turning north-west he saw that many more ships were now in the sky above the Quarter, dwindling into specks as they were absorbed by the blue depths of the upper atmosphere. A slight eastward drift was becoming apparent in their movement, which meant that the chaos of the departure might soon be made worse by the arrival of ptertha. Off to his left the towers of smoke rising from the city were being horizontally sheared and smeared where they reached high level air currents. Burning trees created occasional powdery explosions.

Toller rode down the hill as fast as was compatible with safety. The streets were as empty as before, but he was increasingly aware of the sounds of tumult coming from directly ahead. He emerged from the last screen of abandoned buildings and found that the scene at the Quarter’s periphery had changed.

The break in the barricade had been enlarged and groups totalling perhaps a hundred had gathered there, denied entry to the base by ranks of infantry. Stones and pieces of timber were being hurled at the soldiers who, although armed with swords and javelins, were not retaliating. Several mounted officers were stationed behind the soldiers, and Toller knew by their sleeved swords and the green flashes on their shoulders that they were part of a Sorka regiment, men who were loyal to Leddravohr and had no particular affiliations with Ro-Atabri. It was a situation which could erupt into carnage at any moment, and if that happened rebel soldiers would probably be drawn to the spot to turn it into a miniature theatre of war.

“Hold on and keep your head down,” he said to Gesalla as he drew his sword. “We have to go in hard.”

He spurred the bluehorn into a gallop. The powerful beast responded readily, covering the intervening ground in a few wind-rushing seconds. Toller had hoped to take the rioters completely unawares and burst through them before they could react, but the pounding of hooves on the hard clay attracted the attention of men who had turned to gather stones.

“There’s a bluecoat,” the cry went up. “Get the filthy bluecoat!”

The sight of the massive charging animal and of Toller’s battle sword was enough to scatter all from his path, but there was no escaping the irregular volley of missiles. Toller was struck solidly on the upper arm and thigh, and a skimming piece of slate laid open the knuckles of his rein hand. He kept the bluehorn on course through the overturned timbers of the barricade and had almost reached the lines of soldiers when he heard a thud and felt an impact transmitted through Gesalla’s body. She gasped and slackened her hold for an instant, then recovered her strength. The lines of soldiers parted to make way for him and he pulled the bluehorn to a halt.

“Is it bad?” he said to Gesalla, unable to turn in the saddle or dismount because of her grip on him.

“It isn’t serious,” she replied in a voiceiie could scarcely hear. “You must go on.”

A bearded lieutenant approached them, saluted and caught the bluehorn’s bridle. “Are you Skycaptain Toller Maraquine?”

“I am.”

“You are to report immediately to Prince Leddravohr at Enclosure 12.”

“That’s what I’m trying to do, lieutenant,” Toller said. “It would be easier if you stepped aside.”

“Sir, Prince Leddravohr’s orders made no mention of a woman.”

Toller raised his eyebrows and met the lieutenant’s gaze directly. “What of it?”

“I… Nothing, sir.” The lieutenant released the bridle and moved back.

Toller urged the bluehorn forward, heading for the row of balloon enclosures. It had been found, though nobody had explained the phenomenon, that perforated barriers protected balloons from air disturbances better than solid screens. The open western sky was shining through square apertures in the enclosures, making them look more than ever like a line of lofty towers, at the foot of which was the seething activity of thousands of workers, air crew and emigrants with all their paraphernalia and supplies.

It said much for the organising ability of Leddravohr, Chakkell and their appointees that the system was able to function at all in such extreme circumstances. Ships were still taking off in groups of two or three, and it occurred to Toller that it was almost a miracle that there had been no serious accidents.

At that moment, as if the thought had engendered the event, the gondola of a ship rising too quickly struck the rim of its enclosure. The ship was oscillating as it shot into clear air and at a height of two-hundred feet overtook another which had departed some seconds earlier. At the limit of one of its pendulum swings the gondola of the uncontrolled ship drove sideways into the balloon of the slower craft. The latter’s envelope split and lost its symmetry, flapping and rippling like some wounded creature of the deep, and the ship plunged to the ground, its acceleration struts trailing loosely. It landed squarely on a group of supply wagons. The impact must have severed its burner feed lines for there was an immediate gouting of flame and black smoke, and the barking of injured or terrified bluehorns was added to the general commotion.

Toller tried not to think about the fate of those on board. The other ship’s appallingly bad take-off had looked like the work of a novice, making it seem that many of the one thousand qualified pilots assigned to the migration fleet were not available, possibly stranded by the disturbances in the city. New dangers had been added to the already daunting array of hazards facing the interworld voyagers.

He could feel Gesalla’s head lolling against his back as they rode towards the enclosure, and his anxiety about her increased. Her lightweight frame was ill-equipped to withstand the sort of blow he had felt at a remove. As he neared the twelfth enclosure he saw that it and the three adjoining to the north were heavily ringed by foot soldiers and cavalry. In the protected zone there was an area of comparative calm. Four balloons were waiting in the enclosures, with the inflation teams to hand, and knots of richly dressed men and women were standing by heaps of ornamented cases and other belongings. Some of the men were sipping drinks as they craned to see the crashed ship, while small children darted around their legs as though at play on a family outing.