xii   

Qi could have made a run for it as they moved through the gaps between the administrative buildings. The comfortable life of an administrator—albeit for a crime gang—had made Sun soft. He might be able to put a bullet in her, but the risk of that at the air-dock, surrounded by the British? He was unlikely to try. However, running would not help; under no circumstances would she abandon the Beauty. She corrected herself: well, perhaps in death. But she had always imagined that she and the Frozen Beauty would die together.

She shook herself. No one was going to die today. If Fanning had completed her mission successfully and delivered the vase, all would be well.

The buildings of the air-dock had not been constructed with the usual flair of the British. They were brick rather than stone and had little ornamentation. Their most striking feature was the arches over the windows.

They stood to the side as a fleet of Army steamlorries huffed by. She was amused by the way Sun tried to hide his face. She had no qualms; she had always been honest with the British—even the Excise men. At least, she’d never been caught in a lie, and that was the same thing as honesty.

They came out onto the main field. The Frozen Beauty’s hot air envelopes were completely deflated and Remy had folded them neatly. It was always strange seeing the ship that way, as if she were naked. Set down close by was the Cherry Blossom in Winter; she was the same design as the Beauty, but Captain Han had kept her hydrogen balloons—an extra expense that Qi avoided by using Remy’s hot-air design.

The Blossom was nearly unloaded. The cargo space was wide and almost warm. Only a few slabs remained. Dock workers exchanged furtive glances, but they knew who Sun was and they would not want to even admit to having seen him.

She glanced back at Sun. Now that they were inside the ship he had pulled the gun from his pocket and had it pointed at her spine.

“You really don’t need that.”

“I will be the judge of that, Zang.”

She climbed the stairs towards the bridge. Strange, how the staircase differed from the one on her ship. Superficially they were the same, and yet this one moved differently, and creaked on different steps.

They pushed their way through the ice-lock doors and came into the main cabin. Han was at the chart table, already plotting his route back into the mountains. When he saw Qi enter, he hastily covered the map.

Ice was a precious commodity. Every captain had favourite sites from which to mine it and, come summer, those sites were even more carefully guarded. Of course, one could collect ice that had already been cut by ground crews. But then one had to have the money to pay them up-front, and there was always the risk they might hijack the ship instead.

Han came round the table; he spent a long moment looking at the gun in Sun’s hand, then grunted at them. Qi was not sure she’d ever heard him utter more than five words at one time.

Han turned and bent down behind the chart table. Sun swung his gun round, trained on him. As Han straightened holding two boxes, he frowned at the gun barrel. He placed the boxes on the edge of the chart table, then backed to the window and crossed his arms over his chest, a scowl darkening his face.

Sun stared at the two boxes. While they were not large, there was no way he would be able to carry them and the gun simultaneously.

“Would you like me to carry those for you?” Qi asked pleasantly, moving forward to take them.

Sun jerked the gun up and pointed it at her stomach. “Back off!”

She did as she was instructed, her hands in front of her defensively. “I was only offering to help.”

“I do not require your help. I do not trust you, Captain Qi.”

For which I am truly grateful, she thought to herself.

Awkwardly Sun managed to scoop up the large boxes. His western suit had become creased, and the rough edges of the boxes dug into it. One wrong move and the material might tear. He rested them on his gun arm, so he could for the most part point the weapon in her direction.

“Don’t follow me,” he said to her and then glanced at Han. “Keep her here for an hour.”

Han grunted.

“What about the Beauty?” Qi said quickly. “I need to be out of here for the next trip.”

“I’ll send a message, Zang.”

“Write a letter now.”

Sun turned and sneered at her. “Don’t you trust me?”

“Write me a letter now, Sun. You wouldn’t want Captain Han here to think you’re untrustworthy and spread it around, would you? You know how he gossips.”

Sun returned to the desk, acquired paper and pen from Captain Han, and wrote out his instructions in English. He picked up the boxes again, made his way to the door, and left. Not a word was exchanged.

As the door swung shut Qi put her hand into a pocket. Han jerked back defensively, then grinned as she pulled out a metal flask. “Scotch?”

Han grunted.