Scribbler's note: I can't promise I'll do anything more with this. The image just came to me as I was listening to the soundtrack album...




PROLOGUE

The airship droned through the night sky like some creature of the depths, shadowed, lights hooded, all but hidden from view amidst the sullen clouds. From the heights of the radio mast the universal flag of the skull-and-crossbones fluttered in white and black. Far below, visible in bare patches through the tattered cloud cover, the night of a city glimmered in the yellow of street lamps. It was too far below, too shrouded in the chill mists, to be of comfort here in this distant aerie.

The captain stood alone at the bow, arms crossed, feet wide against the sway of the deck. A long coat stirred in the breeze but he was bare-headed. His eyes were in shadow. As a bit of light came through a momentary break in the clouds it could be seen he was quite a young man. In his face, though, were new lines of maturity. His eyes looked into the night as if they saw into the depths of space and back a thousand years.

A soft tread came on the deck. The tall young man heard it, but did not move. "Captain," the new man said, diffidently.

"Gregor?" The tall young man turned courteously. With an effort he brought his vision back to the here and now.

Compassion leapt to the seaman's eyes. "We'll find her, sir." The words came out of him in instinct, without planning.

The young captain looked at his man with an odd mixture of pride, thanks, and a support in turn. "I have not lost hope," he said softly. "We will find her, Gregor, if it takes a hundred years."

"Thank you, sir," Gregor said. It was obvious he believed in his young captain. "Sir, Sparks says he's heard something," he said then. "Might be lightning ahead of us...or might be one of the Invincible's scouts, signaling in."

"Thank you, Gregor. Keep me informed."

The seaman left as quietly as he had arrived. Captain Pazu turned towards the bow again and resumed his vigil, staring into the cloudy night that unfurled before the swift flight of the Tiger Moth-II. In his vision was only the face of a dark-haired girl, the face of his beloved Sheeta, lost to him now so many years ago...