The Graveyard of the Flying Machines Part IV

Morgan’s watch read 12:30. The voices of the other three coming from the bunkhouse had quieted, so Morgan assumed that they had gone to nap in the underground levels where it was cool. He told them to be back at 2, but expected them at 3.

Morgan went up the ladder propped against the airship. Twenty feet above the ground was the door into the main cabin. He pried it open and entered. The small round windows only let a little light into the hall. Morgan fumbled around for the stairs to the bridge and went up.

The bridge was on the top level of the ship and only the portion containing the levers, valves, and meters used to run the ship were under the covering at the back. The rest was open. Morgan strode out onto the deck. He tried to imagine what the view would be like in flight, at night with the ground stretched out like a dark, rumpled quilt in all directions.

It was likely due to this musing that he did not at first notice the small young girl crouched in a corner peeking around a bank of equipment.

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