Jonas smiled. The sails were not tearing loose from their rigging. It was the little things that mattered, he thought, such as not losing one’s sail and being stranded, adrift, borne on the winds until the gas leaked out of the airbag. He peered at the countryside below. Was it Germany or France? No matter. Hostiles swarmed, like ants on marching orders. His smile disappeared. This far out? When, where, would they be safe?It's not even overtly steampunk, although they're flying in something with sails and an airbag over either Germany or France, so that would be a good guess. And the idea of an airship held together with materials usually reserved for children's art projects was too silly to pass up.
“Captain,” the engineer reprimanded. “We’ve got to land. The sails won’t hold; I’ve strung them together with pipe cleaners and baling wire.”
“Just a bit farther.”
Also, if you want to read me trying to explain very basic genetics, I have another "Ask a Geneticist" response up at http://www.thetech.org/genetics/ask.php?id=399.