As I step off the Flying Leonardo a gust of hot, harsh wind hits me like the angry slap of an unforgiving Yahweh. Even three hundred meters above sea level I can taste sand in my mouth. The city below, Yafo, is ringed by giant towers. In peacetime, there were always a number of ships tethered to these towers—Angels of Allah, Flying Leonardos, Sky Dragons, even the occasional Vahana. But now the towers look derelict. The United Emirates’ entire fleet of Angels has been called to war. Against the Eternal Chinese Empire. Against the newfangled United States of Europe. Against the Antipodes. Against the High Aztec Empire.
Today, there is only this one airship tethered here, a diplomatic Flying Leonardo not outfitted for combat. We have just now returned from Firenze, from the penultimate roun
