Powell looked at Bixby with a shocked expression on his face.

Bixby smiled back and said, “Yes, he evidently speaks Remun. That answers your question. I suppose he is civilized after all.”

Rip frowned and said, “Remun? I know a little Latin, and that phrase is one of them. E pluribus unum, carpe diem, and a few legal phrases are about the extent of my knowledge. Oh, and veni, vidi, vici.”

“Aye, he speaks the old tongue and ours. He’s got a rubbish accent, though.”

“That he does, Mr. Powell. It sounds colonial, if you ask me. If I didn’t know otherwise, I’d say he was from St. George’s Colony.”

“I’m from Texas, actually. And you two can stop talking about me like I’m not here.”

“Quite right, I do apologize Sergeant. It’s just now that the shooting has stopped, you are quite the curiosity. I should like to present you to the court personally after we make our report tomorrow, should the king ask for you.”

Rip shrugged, noncommittally. He came down the steps and onto the bridge. Two seats in the middle gave Powell, sitting in the one on the left, easy access to the airship’s controls. Two more chairs at the corners of the cabin occupied rotating turrets with heavy guns, aiming down. Boxes containing belts of ammunition were strapped down beside both machineguns.

“Nice engineering,” Rip said, looking everything over.

Powell harrumphed but didn’t say anything. Rip’s eyes wandered across the control panel.

“I see you’ve got throttles for both engines there. The foot pedals help control your rudder, like on airplanes. You’ve got elevation, steering and speed all covered here. Communications to other parts of the ship look hardwired in. And this row of buttons must control things like the trap door, which let out those rope ladders you used to pick us up out of the mess down there.”

Powell continued to not look at him, but his stance appeared to be softening.

“He’s definitely civilized, Colonel. He even appears to have some engineering skills. Or at least a basic understanding of aeronautics.”

Rip nodded, pretending the pilot was speaking to him directly instead of to Bixby.

“I’ve flown lots of things, virtually. Pilots in the military, in the real world, have to be officers. I’m a non-com. Went straight to the Army after high school, though I’ve taken some college classes online. Vehicles in games, especially in the metaverse, are not considered real. So yeah, I’ve flown a lot, and in combat, too. Only, in cyberspace, not real life.”

Powell finally turned and looked him in the eye.

“Are we sure he’s not daft?”

“Not daft, Mr. Powell. I suspect this has something to do with the ‘parallel world’ he hails from, as Dr. Oggolopoli would put it. We’ll let the boffins figure it out for us.”

Bixby stood and his leather chair swiveled to the side.

He walked up the steps and said, “I think I’ll go find Lady Brooke and help her with that liquor cabinet.”

“That’ll be on my bill! All liquor consumed from the supplies onboard will be accounted for back in Ethinium.”

“I’m sure it’s worth it. You wouldn’t think of overcharging a Royal Venture Society team, especially on a mission from the crown. You know how picky the palace bean counters can be.”

When he was gone, Rip came down the steps and took the seat he vacated, and sat next to Powell.

“Ah, comfy. I haven’t had a chance to sit much since I got here.”

The glass from the windscreen came almost down to the floor, he noticed. He sat back and watch the scenery roll by.

After a few minutes he decided to break the silence.

“You know, in my world we had these kinds of rigid airships, before they grew out of favor. Airplanes got much faster, and more reliable. But when we did use them a lot, they took a whole crew of people to fly. You’re the only one here, aren’t you?”

“Aye.”

It seemed talking about his airship proved to be one way to get Powell to open up.

“She’s designed for just the one operator. Of course, it helps to have more people onboard to shoot the guns, if things get nasty.”

“Do you worry about incendiary bullets?”

“Hah! If I used hydrogen, then maybe. Nobody uses that much anymore, though. The Comet here is filled with helium.”

“Really? That’s a lot harder to get, isn’t it? I mean, you can just make hydrogen.”

“Aye. There is a mine in one of the western colonies where most helium is acquired. I don’t know much more about it. I know it costs a pretty penny to gas up a ship, and the empire tries to keep all we produce, that’s for sure. It’s import-restricted. But as for incendiary bullets or other projectiles, the Comet’s infrastructure, including the gas envelope and the ribs, is enhanced. So are the engines.”

“Is that right? That must have been expensive.”

Rip thought about his enhanced wrench, and how useful it had been. He was under the impression enhancement was rare, especially for objects. So far, the wrench was the only thing he had come across that was enhanced.

“Aye, it must have been expensive for the original owner, who commissioned her. I received the Steel Comet as compensation for rescuing a Prussian prince from a right tight spot he was in. Plucked him off an Alpine battlefield, I did, in my old ships. He was on the losing side, and was about to take it on the chin. We came in over the Alps, flying low to the ground. Myself and two others. They covered the battlefield with fire, first. I followed in behind them and pulled the prince out using a net. After bequeathing me the Comet as payment, I sold my other ships. I just fly this one, now.”

He patted the leather dashboard housing the controls.

“She’s my baby. And no incendiary bullets are going to blow her up. It would have to be a large round even to penetrate the shell. I just keep her engines fueled and she’ll happily take me wherever I point her, no matter what’s happening on the ground. Or in the air.”

Rip nodded as the ship continued moving south at a steady pace.

After a while he said, “You don’t worry about the engines going out? Ever have any mechanical trouble?”

“They’re enhanced, I tell ya. Never had a whit o’trouble with ’em. Once an enhancement is made on something, it lasts halfway to forever, barring calamity.”

The conversation waned again after that exchange.

Rip settled back in the comfortable leather chair. The smooth ride and steady thrum of the engines soon lulled him fast asleep.