[b]James E. Carter & Itzi Ku [/b]
[hr]

The tearing sound sliced through the cabin like a blade through canvas. Carter’s hands tightened instinctively on the controls and his jaw flexed, but he didn’t curse, didn’t snap. He just looked up through the forward viewing pane, watching the tree line dance too close for comfort.

“Yeah… I heard it too,” he muttered at Zoe's comment. 

Meanwhile, Arkadios, cool as ice, followed up with his recommendation.

Carter didn’t argue. He didn’t need the reminder. But he gave a short nod anyway, already adjusting the rudder pressure.

“Understood,” he said, shifting his grip and pulling back slightly. “Let’s get her nose up. Itzi, more lift, now.”

Itzi was already ahead of him, hands moving deftly across the trim and pressure controls. She didn’t waste a word either.

“Venting stabilized,” she reported. “Bringing in more helium from the secondary reserves. Watch for a sluggish rise, she’s fighting us.”

The ship groaned softly as the nose began to tilt up, sluggish but obedient. Carter glanced over at the trim gauge, then back toward the gas bag indicator.

“That gold’s draggin’ us like we’re haulin’ an anchor uphill,” Carter added, “But we’ll clear it.”

Outside, the treetops began to recede, if only by degrees, and the tension in the cabin eased ever so slightly.

“We’re climbing,” Itzi confirmed, still monitoring the pressure. “Barely. But we are.”