![]() ![]() Push it too far, Gerrard, and you'll have a puddle where your engine used to be." Gerrard's laughter answered through the tube. "We're having to douse the manifolds to keep them from melting down. All the rest of Weatherlight had endured the planeshifting stresses well, but the engine was beginning to overheat. Micro-fibers extended from the controls into his fingers, linking him to every corner of the ship. ![]() "No engine problem yet, but soon." His silver back was bent toward the machine, his hands embedded in twin operations ports. Karn was a massive man made of silver, and his voice was like a waterfall. A third crewmember, who seemed simply another engine subreactor, spoke. They did not pause to answer the commander. Two crewmembers worked a giant torque wrench, closing a valve. Mana conduits added their green light to the tepid glow of bolted lanterns. Karn, is it an engine problem?" The call echoed down tubes into steamy darkness-the engine room. Robert King "I know, Sisay -" Gerrard answered, quickly adding- "Captain. "Rudder, keel, airfoils-everything's performing perfectly, including me." THE THRAN J ROBERT KING PDF FREE SKINHer corded shoulders and ebony skin seemed part of the ship's wheel she clutched. "Not here, either," reported another woman, standing at the helm. "Where's the problem?" "Not here," Hanna replied, confirming the calibration of her altimeter. "We're still twelve hundred miles out, this time north by northwest." "Damn! That's the farthest of the three," Gerrard said. "I just want my favorite navigator to get us to Benalia." Hanna summed three columns of figures and assigned functions to them. "Good luck finding another navigator who can pinpoint longitude without stars." "I don't want another navigator," Gerrard answered from the forecastle. Hanna's eyes spun as she watched them settle. Blowing an errant strand of blonde back from her face, Hanna did her own shouting into the tube, "Working on it, Commander Gerrard!" Across her navigation console, compasses and gyros reeled. The other jotted slide-rule calculations in a hasty column. Rules and styluses were clutched in one of her hands. ![]() ![]() The words raked out over a slim, hunched woman. He shouted into a speaking tube, "Coordinates, Hanna!" A powerstone embedded in the mouth of the tube snatched up his voice and hurled it a hundred feet aft to the glass-enclosed bridge. Behind a gleaming ray cannon on the forecastle was strapped a man with black hair and angry eyes. Invasion Tiny figures stood on her wind-ravaged deck-human figures. Something else was coming, something far more horrible than Weatherlight. It was a sleek and glorious, horrible thing, this Weatherlight. Loose tongues told of new fleets built by Urza and secreted away to fight Phyrexians, but who believed in Urza? Who believed in Urza's bogey men? Who had ever seen even a single skyship? Until now. This was a ship, a skyship - the sort that had ruled Thrannish skies. It drummed gunwales of living wood on its way into roaring intakes and across wide-swept wings. Air streamed away from a lancing prow and sawtoothed keel. This was no meteor, no dumb stone from heedless heavens. It tore water from the air and hurled it outward in white flames. The thing carved a sudden line in the sky. Something was coming, something horrible, and it would emerge without warning from clear air. Gray land crouched at the edge of Dominaria, hiding itself in veils of yellow steam. Waves crowded shoulder to shoulder and shoved each other. Chapter 1 To Fight Phyrexians White clouds fled through blue skies. ![]()
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