Iseabail pulled the cabin door closed. “Three-time heavyweight champion, eh? I dinnae think ye can take him anymore.” Cannon paced, or tried to. The narrow confines of the cabin, along with the baggage still sitting on the deck—evidently, it was … Continue reading
“Then perhaps,” said Wailani, “you’ve heard of our most distinguished passenger, Artiom Volkov?” Cannon didn’t need to feign his excitement. “I have. He has advanced the state of Central American archaeology by decades.” Wailani nodded. “He is also a three-time … Continue reading
The Hawaiian folded his paper and set it aside, then gestured to the empty chairs at his table. Cannon pulled one out for Iseabail, then sat next to her. “First,” the Hawaiian continued, “introductions. I am John Manu Wailani.” “Doctor … Continue reading
Cannon and Iseabail sat at their table for a full hour. At two o’clock, midway through their vigil, Red Banner set out, the stirring strains of the Internationale playing over her loudspeakers to mark their departure. From Panama City’s port, … Continue reading
Leaving their bags, Cannon and Iseabail made their way to the portside lounge. Though the Red Banner was smaller than Inconstant, she didn’t need so large a flight deck. Freed from that constraint, she had a much greater amount of … Continue reading
Cannon and Iseabail disembarked. Cannon collected their bags from the porters. “Where now?” Iseabail said. “Out the west door,” Cannon replied, putting on his best generically English accent. Iseabail chucked. “Who d’ye think’s going tae buy tha’, Dr. Smith?” “I’m … Continue reading
For his part, Cannon leaned back and stretched his legs. Finally, after two years, he was mere days from putting the whole ugly affair in Panama behind him. He had mixed feelings about the place—no, that was wrong. He had … Continue reading
The train wove around the verdant hills of central Panama, passing small villages nestled against the slopes as it clattered downhill toward Panama City. In a first-class carriage, Nathaniel Canon glanced down at his timetable, then at his watch. They … Continue reading
“Thank you,” Sif said. She had hoped— “I am glad to see you to a place where you belong but,” Falthejn said, a smile spreading across his face, “you need not choose.” Sif blinked. “If your newfound family allows it, … Continue reading
Alfhilde and Hrothgar caught up to Sif and Falthejn, and together, they pushed on. Falthejn told the tale of his day in full. They reached the bridge as he finished. The last few refugees were crossing under the protective eye … Continue reading
