Daedalus Krane and the Hand of God

Chapter 3

'Always treat a friend in need like your brother for he will repay you a thousand times over.'  

Rajah Azad Shahab Muzaffar Muhi-ud-Din Aurangzeb  

Daedalus rolled off the raft of carpets he had landed on and cast around him. Flo had fallen on to two huge cotton bales some distance away and sat coughing violently into her cupped hands. She looked around and seeing him, waved to signify she was alright.  

Mayhem apparently unharmed had already scuttled off and was heading toward the wide open dust field where the remnants of Helios lay crushed and broken.  

Daedalus quickly tore off his shirt. Wrapping it tightly around his bleeding arm he pulled the sleeve around his wrist to affect a knot and pulled it tight with his teeth. A temporary tourniquet.  

A few market traders had emerged from the shadows their long white robes and wide turbans offering some protection against the intense sunlight. They gazed in stunned silence at the bloodied Daedalus and the burning ship beyond.  

Daedalus walked unsteadily through the mountainous piles of cloth and sun drenched carpets and stopped on the edge of the field. Standing there he surveyed the wreckage spread out in front of him.  

The ship had come down on its side and broken up on impact on the parched earth. The bulky dirigible section had broken free of the main cabin. It lay on its side like a bloated pig with its belly ripped wide open exposing its inner skeleton, a tangled mass of crushed wooden ribs and twisted wires. The cabin had broken free and carved a long wide plough line through the earth before coming to rest on the far side of the field. One engine had buried itself so deep in the ground it had almost disappeared.  

The main cabin, shattered and torn almost beyond recognition was half engulfed in an intense white flame. Daedalus could hear the irregular popping of rivets as they swelled and burst from their holes as the conflagration took hold. A plume of dirty white smoke spiralled up into the air twisting and turning in the hazy air.  

Could anyone have survived the impact? And the fire?  

Daedalus drew a long breath and closed his eyes. Ignoring the pain in his arm he cleared his mind of all thought and calmed himself. Gradually his breathing slowed, and the rhythm of his heart slackend. His mind slowly opened up time and space, drawing in the forces of nature and the cosmos beyond. Time seemed to slow and distend until he found himself separated from the laws of the Universe around him.  

Listening carefully he could make out the ticking of Blister beetles wings as they borrowed in the dusty jacinthe earth under his feet. heady mix of intoxicating smells invaded his lungs. Wild garlic, turmeric and nutmeg from when, many years ago a spice market had once thrived on the spot where he stood.  

The rhythm of heart slowed further.  

He opened his eyes. The sun had begun its low decent through the vapid sky signifying the advance of the hours into the early evening. Its shimmering rays stilled by the distillation of time emanated an eerie crimson glow. Flickering waves of light picked out the reflections of the millions of orange dust particles pushed up into the languid air by the impact of the Helios. They hung suspended in the sky, a breathtaking, glittering, fairytale illumination.  

Off to the south a huge silver shape had appeared in the sky. The gibbous moon cast large hung low over the horizon, its endless timeless Copernican race through the universe temporally rendered impotent. Daedalus could feel the pull of its gravity gently ebbing over his body. Looking up he could clearly make up the veins of the Apennine mountain range and the pitted landscape of the Sea of Serenity beyond. This iridescent apple of the moon hung so low over the earth it seemed to have been temptingly placed there as a gift from the Gods. Daedalus felt he was almost able to reach up and pluck it from its place in the universe.