Eve of Flight I

That night, Haruki, along with the rest of the crew, dragged the Kenichi Modern into an open space by the beach, just outside the cove. There, Marina and Flare opened up the engine and began making their modifications. Begrudgingly.

Five minutes never passed where Flare didn’t chide Marina for being some form of untrustworthy, amateur, or both. Ironic, since from what Haruki observed from her work with the engine, the term ‘amateur’ belonged to her, too.

But they both knew how to work an engine—in different ways.

Flare knew the basics: How combustion engines work, and how they create small explosions to provide locomotion to the rest of the machine. But apparently typical to dwarves, she handled the machine with almost no delicacy. Haruki was afraid her inhuman strength would break delicate parts.

But that was where Marina came in.

Marina did not understand the ‘how’, but she intuited the ‘why’. She knew what went where, and why they did. Every nut and bolt, she intuited their use and instructed Flare how to take the engine apart and put it back together again. She simply lacked the strength and dexterity to do it herself.

It made Haruki wonder if she’s done this before. Perhaps she has, back in the Federacy, considering the kind of flying tech they had in the Western Navies.

Over time, their bickering decreased and a quiet camaraderie began to form between them. Insults went from purposefully hurtful to playful, if not crass—but most importantly, mutual.

Perhaps Marina felt at peace being useful to someone. Perhaps Flare being used for her talents gave her satisfaction and inner peace.

Haruki guided them throughout, through whatever plane-building knowledge he learned from Mr. Junk, but he was going to give credit where credit was due.

The girls made good work.

He couldn’t help but remember the time he built the Kenichi Modern with Mr. Junk. A collaborative effort built with love and purpose.

Remembering those times, it filled him with a silent determination: To return home.

If there was at least one person waiting for him on Earth, wouldn’t it be worth it to come back home?

But when he looked at Marina, Flare—and thought of Anemone—did he still want to go home?

Was his time on Earth transient? Or was this experience merely a fleeting dream worth leaving behind when all was said and done?

Flare snapped a finger at Haruki, cutting his thoughts.

“Haruki, we’re done.”

“O-Oh.”

Flare chuckled. “Falling asleep standing up?”

“N-Nah. I was just… thinking.”

“You’ve got lots of time to think later.” She gestured towards the Kenichi Modern, its body illuminated by several floating balls of magelight serving as parallels to modern-day floodlights.

He groped the engine of the large, soft mat laid on the rocks. Then he inspected the fuel tank, which had been opened to take in larger materials than liquid fuel.

The V8 engine, which had wires still strewn about and unconnected to anything, seemed lighter than before, though it didn’t look any different. When he peered into the engine, several shards of Titanseye seemed to be floating in similarly colored orange goo, of which had the same consistency as fossil fuel.

Now that he thought about it—

If Titanseye minerals were said to be made from long-dead corpses of titans—

—Wouldn’t that make them some kind of fossil?

“What are these?” Haruki pointed at the orange liquid.

“Titanseye. Can’t you tell?” Flare said in jest.

“No, I know they’re Titanseye. But this liquid—and these little shards floating around. Care to explain?”

Flare puffed her chest, though Haruki wondered if its size needed any more puffing.

“Well, it would be better if she explained,” she said, thumbing at Marina. “I just did what I could. I know how it works, but I think you’d appreciate it better if it came from the brainiac.”

“By the Divine, Marina. Are you not an engineer in the make? You’re supposed to explain it yourself.”

“It was your idea. Besides,” Flare shrugged. “You made this poor, delicate lady use her magic while you watched. I’m just so tired now.”

Marina rolled her eyes. “Delicate lady. Right.” She sighed and turned to Haruki, then gestured at the engine. “Come.”

“It’s a little lighter than I’m used to,” Haruki said.

“Back in the Federacy, our engines were quite lightweight to compensate for balloons being our primary way of flying. Flare explained your engine might work differently, but with a bit of know-how, I took parts from my own airship’s engine and installed it on yours.”

“Huh.” Haruki stroked his chin, feeling a smidge of facial hair growing. How long have I been here? “But that means your airship won’t be flying anymore.”

“Not in the foreseeable future, no.”

“I see. So… how is it different?”

“Our airships work using small crystals that absorb and infuse mana into itself. You might have seen them in action. At least, their more aggressive counterparts. White, around the size of your palm?”

“Ah.” Right. Those anti-magic things that gave everyone a migraine. He scarcely imagined they were being used to power engines, too.

Then again, that’s probably why they never deployed the same technology against Haruki and Flare when they were airborne.

A larger version of those things could have neutralized their own anti-air defenses. And possibly—grounded their own ships.

“I have. They used ‘em to stop our magic in its tracks.”

“That’s what they do when engineered to do so,” Marina said, nodding. “But the engine version takes just enough.”

A small sponge, big sponge situation, then.

“Okay,” Haruki mirrored her nod, confirming understanding. Somewhat. “What about the things in the fuel tank?”

Marina walked over to the fuel tank and tapped its side. “This… is your new fuel.”

“This goo. Titanseye. I thought these came in the form of rocks. Did you…” He shot Flare a quick, unseen glance. “...Melt the Titanseye.”

“That’s how we do it back in the Federacy. Titanseye has a plethora of uses in our tech, both in solid and liquid form. When melted at certain temperatures, engines are able to process them into raw mana—since that’s what Titanseye is at the end of the day. Fossilized mana.” Marina twirled her hair, showing a bit of apprehension. “Our engines don’t look like yours though. They’re a lot bigger and built differently, so we had to intuit a lot to do this. With your help, of course.”

“How big?”

Marina drew a gap between her hands above her head. “About the size of two lavish brothel rooms in Bellfry, combined.”

So that’s why their civilization hadn’t intuited planes yet. But what’s with the weird point of reference? “I see. That clears up a lot for me.”

“I hope my explanation was clear enough.” Marina smiled coy, like a little lady fishing for a compliment.

“I don’t get everything yet, but it’ll do.” Just to test, he gave her a pat on the head. She beamed back. He swore he heard her purr. “But will it fly?”

Flare smoldered. “Sure. But I guess we’ll find out tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? Why not find out now?”

With a nervous shake of the head, Marina said, “Because we don’t think you have enough fuel to fly for too long. At least, we think you might just have enough for the whole revenge operation.”

“If you fly now,” Flare added. “You might end up running out mid-flight again.”

Great. He guessed he might have enough for an hour of flight, maybe two. But a test flight wouldn’t hurt.

When he turned to march towards the Kenichi Modern, the girls stared knives into him. They knew he was going to go on a test flight anyway.

“Oy.” Flare scowled.

“Don’t you have any faith in our build?” Marina pouted.

“You don’t have faith in your two best engineers?”

Not that much? But it wouldn’t hurt to trust them now, right? Not after these two spent half the moonlight building rapport when they came in wanting to rip each other’s limbs apart. At least Flare did.

“W-What?” Haruki waved his hands. “You silly geese. I was going to just… put the whole thing back together, you know? It’s not gonna fly with the engine outside it.”

“Hm. True,” Flare said.

“What’s a geese?” Marina wondered.

“It’s a—” Of course. Another idiom that doesn’t work. “Nevermind. Let’s just put this thing back together, girls.”

The three worked together to put the Kenichi Modern back together—and to be fair, their work was seamless, despite the changes.

But as they worked, Marina stole glances at Haruki. He couldn’t help but notice. Did she have a crush on him, or did she have something devious in store? Both were viable possibilities.

What he knew, however, was that there was something she had to say.