“London Bridge is falling down . . .”

Johnnie was convinced that whatever memory of a brain he had, had been eaten by big fat everworms, and all that remained were the ghosts of swiss cheese holes.

“. . . my fair lady!”

And maybe cobwebs.

There was no telling how many journeys they had made around the world. Now, thanks to the gravitational tweak the giant deadspot had given them, each revolution left them a few hundred miles farther south. They were spiraling toward the equator. Eventually they would pass it, and wind up spinning in circles at the south pole.

“Take the keys and lock her up, lock her up, lock her up . . .”

With no contact from any of their friends on the ground since that fateful day Mary attacked the train, they had no way of knowing who had won that battle. They could only hope that their sacrifice was not for naught.

“Take the keys and lock her up . . .”

For many weeks now, looking out of the windows had provided no solace. Deadspots were few and far between, and the sight of them was nothing more than a cruel tease from a cold world.

“. . . my fair lady!”

Yet even with his Swiss-cheese, cobwebbed, empty head, Johnnie-O still didn’t reach the same absolute mindless, happy, sing-along stupor that Charlie had found.

“It’s gotta mean something, don’t it, Charlie? The fact that I’m not a complete blithering idiot like you?”

Charlie’s answer was just a vacant smile, and another verse.

. . . But halfway through that verse, a shadow swept across the bulkhead.

“Wait! Did you see that?”

Charlie must have, because he actually stopped singing. At first Johnnie thought that it might be a living-world airplane cutting through their airspace, but as he rose to look out of the window, he saw something flash by. A colorful flash of feathers, and a powerful beat of wings—and then another, and another.

“I think they’re angels, Charlie! The angels came to save us!”

In a moment, he could hear what could only be dainty angel feet setting down on the silver surface of the airship above them.

For the first time in a very long time, Charlie made eye contact with Johnnie-O, and together they sang, “Off we go . . . into the wild blue yonder . . .”

CHAPTER 29
The Great Awakening

Mary could see faces looking down on her, although it was all quite distorted due to the bottles, eyeglass lenses, and random glass objects that made up this strange box she found herself in. Her pallbearers had placed her on the ground and now just stared at her. Mary pushed on the lid, but it wouldn’t give, so she turned to the pallbearer with the sweetest face.

“Excuse me,” she said, “but would you be so kind as to undo the latch?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He knelt down, fumbled nervously with the latch, then pulled open the lid.