Escapology Read Online Free PDF

the windows on the edge ’rises to wave and holler. Used to be they might throw confetti but though a land ship berthing is still an event, it’s not the wonder it used to be. Familiarity breeds complacence.
    Once they’re in the harbour proper, the berthing klaxon begins to sound.
Resurrection
responds with three of her horns and they have an ear-splitting exchange as the harbour crews and
Resurrection
wheel crews coordinate her toward her berth, 800 metres out from the docks. The splash of great wheels, louder by far in the enclosure of the harbour churn her to a gentle halt, waves slapping at her sides, loosing small clods of earth they’ll have to stop and patch at the Tri-Asian ranges on their way out.
    Petrie roars the order to anchor via IM. Feels rather than hears them drop, a deep dragging and grind, a vibration like a shudder, as if the
Resurrection
dislikes her sudden immobility.
    He pats the ropes, grinning. “Easy, old girl. We’re not here long.”
    For the next ten minutes he supervises the wheel crews with lashing and clearing, organizes the Tech teams into groups to make sure the server checks run smoothly.
    Hoi, Bosun! Petrie!
The head of their medical team, Lane, barely reining in her impatience.
We off? I’ve got four of my staff by the schooners ready to go. Going to need all the time we can squeeze out of this server check.
    “Shit!” he mutters, remembering.
    Several vicious attacks in the two months since they last berthed to drop off trade goods have left their hospital supplies dangerously low and he promised Lane time to stock up whilst the servers are being checked. Reaching the bays he vaults onto the lower ropes, clips on his zip and sails down the line to unclip and land beside her. A large man and packed with muscle, he towers over her. Petrie towers over most everyone and it never feels normal. He’s never become used to the body good nutrition gave him.
    “Let’s go then,” he says.
    “Impressive timing there,” she says, smiling.
    “Hey, you call, I come running. Let’s go wangle some inland time.”
    She places a hand on his arm as her staff scramble down the ropes to the schooner.
    “I know you hate handling Sigmund, Petrie. This is much appreciated.”
    He pats her hand. “Just do me a favour and sneak me some brandy, will you? Chances are I’m going to need it.”
    “Done.”
    “You’re an angel.”
    Their schooners are thirty feet long, solar powered and nippy as hell, and the journey from shipside to dockside takes less than ten minutes. The negotiation for an inland trip on the other hand takes over fifty; despite Sigmund knowing he’s keeping Petrie from dealing with Fulcrum’s Techs.
    Maintaining calm by willpower alone, Petrie manages to wangle Lane a whole hour and hire her a truck at half charge so she can bulk buy. He sees her and her team off safely before heading back to oversee the transfer of Fulcrum’s Techs to
Resurrection
. They’re none too pleased. They can’t leave until they’ve done their job and they think he’s stalled on purpose. Yet another irritation in his day.
    Once they’re soothed and on their way, Petrie ventures over to the dock to vet the waiting refugees, a bedraggled bunch who’ve likely checked the berthing schedules and made certain to be here on the right day for a good ship. His head aches at the sight of them. It seems cruel, especially when people are desperate, but a land ship is a working community and they’ve learnt not to be indiscriminate, as much as they might want to be.
    For Petrie, this process is especially tough. He knows what it’s like to be willing to do anything to escape a bad situation and yet terrified of somehow walking into something worse. And there’s plenty of something worse to go round. Of the hundreds of land ships sailing the ocean, maybe three quarters could be described as friendly. The rest, not so much.
    Some are scavengers, taking what’s already been remade useful, their