Chapter 1
A choking haze hung in the air of the dimly lit pub. The patrons smoked thick black cigars, but they had little to do with the fumes that permeated the place. This pub, known by the locals as The Sieve, sat in one of the deepest, darkest corners of a mist-shrouded landscape. The purple-tinged fug hung in a thick blanket over most of the low-lying areas of the continent known as Rim. Most of the former residents had been killed when the toxic stuff rolled across the land. The rest had become the twisted ghost-white mockeries of humanity known as the fug folk.
The patrons of the bar ordered their drinks and glanced distrustfully at one another in the sickly green light of strange glass lanterns affixed to the walls. Their long, pale faces seemed perfectly constructed for malicious sneers. A player piano in one corner plinked out a tinny tune as the dozen or so rail-thin fug folk measured one another, puffed their cigars, and nursed their drinks.
“All right, boys,” remarked one of the more rugged of the patrons, who wore a white shirt and suspenders. “Since no one else seems interested in explaining just how such a comprehensive assortment of enterprising businessmen came to gather in the same hole-in-the-wall at the same time, I suppose I’ll take the initiative. What brings you here?”
A lanky fellow in a silvery vest and slacks raised a glass of milky-white liquor. “Were I to wager a guess, I would say it is the same motivation that drives us to any such establishment. A well-heeled investor seeking our services.”
“He had best be quite well-heeled,” wheezed an older, black-suited gentleman with thick spectacles and a complex gun hanging at his belt. “My services don’t come cheap.”
“I take it, then, that we’ve all been scheduled for a rendezvous to talk business?” remarked the suspender-clad spokesman.
“I can’t imagine anything else that would gather this many gunsels into a single place,” Silver-vest said. “But if someone thinks they are going to window-shop our services and pick the best value, that man is going to be sorely sorry he wasted my time. I do not work on free consultation. One must pay a minimum retainer to even present me with a potential contract.”
All eyes glanced upward as a low, chugging mechanical rhythm became audible. An airship was approaching overhead.
“Ah. The waiting is nearly over,” Suspenders said with a grin. “This should prove amusing.”
The assembled gallery of rogues turned to the door and waited. In short order, heavy boots thumped up and the knob turned. When the door opened, bright green light flooded in from behind, stinging the eyes of all within and casting long shadows onto the floor.
Even in silhouette, the visitors were plainly not of the same breeding as the narrow and wiry fug folk. In the middle was the formidable Captain Mack, now dressed in the ragged, everyday counterpart to his formal uniform. He was flanked by Lil and Nita, both a good deal shorter. Lil wore her ill-fitting duster. Nita was dressed in a more formfitting leather-and-canvas engineer’s outfit topped with a corset and two sashes of tools. All three wore strange brass masks over their mouths.
The tension within the pub stretched taut as a guitar string. All hands went to their weapons.
“At ease, boys,” Mack instructed. “I reckon a proper businessman knows how to have a civil chat without his gun hand getting itchy.”
Suspenders leaned back and had a long puff on his cigar.
“Captain Mack,” he said. “I never dreamed I would see you in person.”
“Cap’n West, to you,” the captain said. “Mack’s for friends and crew. And you ain’t neither. I reckon you know my engineer and deckhand?”
“Nita and Little,” Suspenders said.
“It’s Lil,” Lil snapped. “How’s a fella get that wrong?”
Mack gave Nita a look. She nodded and pulled a small handheld lantern from the twin bandolier of tools. A quick twist of a valve brought a bright green light. She directed it at the vaulted ceiling. Behind them, the massive lights—no doubt those affixed to his ship—lifted away. Mack shut the door and approached the bar.
“You say you’re a businessman,” wheezed the black-suited senior. “Am I to believe that you are the one who gathered us here?”
“Good to know you folks have got brains in your heads,” Mack said.
The bartender, visibly unnerved by the presence of Mack and his crew, finally spoke up.
“We don’t serve your kind here,” he said, his voice failing to match the threat of his words.
Mack looked at him through the dark lenses of his spectacles. “Just as well. You ain’t got my brand.”
He reached into his coat. The would-be hired guns populating the pub all reached for their weapons. Lil hooked her coat with her thumb and pulled it aside to reveal a pistol at her belt.
“Any of you folks reckon you can draw faster than me?” she said, shaking some stray bangs from her eyes. “Because if I see anybody grab their gun, you better believe bullets’ll be flying right quick.”
“You can’t shoot all of us before one of us shoots you,” Vest said.
“Nah, but I can darn well shoot one of you. And if you’re the one I shoot, far as you’re concerned it may as well have been all of you.”
“No one is shooting anyone,” Mack said. “Like I said, I’m here for business.”
The item he’d been reaching for was a small metallic flask. He placed it on the bar and twisted the cap. Once the contents were exposed, something curious and startling happened. The thin purple haze around the flask grew much thicker. It became a veritable cloud that quickly swept outward, rushing over all in attendance. When it passed, what it left behind was a clear, clean void in the fug. The mere presence of the substance in the bottle pushed the fumes to the corners of the room. Each of the fuggers coughed lightly and squirmed uncomfortably.
“What in blazes did you do?” Vest demanded.
Mack, Lil, and Nita patted their clothes, shaking out the clinging purple vapors. The captain removed his mask. His crew followed suit. Mack ran his gloved fingers through his beard to ruffle it back to life. Lil looked about with a lunatic grin, as though she were a caged animal enjoying a precious bit of freedom. Nita simply resumed her inspection of the ceiling. None of them had the decency to look frightened, despite the obvious threat that hung in the air.
“Ain’t you boys ever heard of ichor?” Lil said. “And here I was thinkin’ I was the one who was ignorant.”
“Ichor…” Black-suit wheezed. “So you and your crew do have access to Ichor Well.”
“That we do,” Mack said, fetching a small tin from his jacket and liberating a thin, sweet-smelling cigar from within. “I reckon there’s a load of rumors about us you believe and a load you don’t. I ain’t got the time to watch you sift through which is which. My time’s as valuable as yours. Best to get to business.”
He lit the cigar. “Seems these days I can’t keep my crew out of trouble,” he said.
“That’s what happens when you butt heads with Mayor Ebonwhite,” said Suspenders.
“Ebonwhite’s been a thorn in my side for a dog’s age. Him, I can deal with. The man seems to have learned his lesson. Knows where his borders are, and he’s been keeping to them.”
“You can’t be talking about Alabaster. Last I heard, you killed him,” said Vest.
“Wish it were so,” Mack said. “He’s still kickin’, but I ain’t concerned about him no more.”
“Pity,” wheezed Black-suit. “He’s one person I’d be happier without. Good source of money but causes a bit more of a stir than a proper patron ought to.”
“The fella we’re curious about goes by the name Ferris Tusk.”
The fug folk replied simultaneously.
“He’s dead,” said Suspenders.
“He’s a myth,” said Vest.
“He’d never deal with the likes of you,” said Black-suit.
Mack raised an eyebrow. “That ain’t what I’d call a consensus. You boys want to chat a bit and see if you can come to an ag
reement?”
Lil stepped up to the man in the black suit. “This guy at least thinks Tusk is still lurkin’ somewhere, Cap’n. I say we start with him.”
“I reckon so.” Mack turned to Nita. “You got what you need?”
“I believe so,” she said.
“Go on up and get to work then.”
“Will there be a sign?”
“Just take your time and go when you’re ready.”
Nita nodded. She slipped her mask back in place and headed for the door. Outside, the dense cloud of pushed-back fug was completely opaque. She stepped into it and vanished from sight.
“What is all of that about?” Black-suit asked.
“None of your concern,” Mack said.
He reached into an inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out a handful of small purple-black disks with holes in the center. He dumped some on the bar and jingled the rest in his hand. The fug man in the black suit adjusted his glasses.
“Trith washers,” he said. “That’s a king’s ransom you’ve got there. One of the benefits of having a Calderan on the crew, no doubt.”
“The least of the benefits. But that’s on offer for any information that’ll help me find Tusk.”
“What will you do when you find him?”
“Persuade him to leave me, my crew, and all us folks up top alone.”
“And how do you intend to do it?”
“I reckon we’ll shoot him,” Lil said. “Couple bullets’ll usually keep a fella from gettin’ rambunctious.”
“You can’t kill Tusk. He’s too smart for that,” Black-suit said.
“Last I checked, bein’ smart ain’t much good at blockin’ bullets,” Lil said.
“You’ll never find him. He’s not foolish enough to do any of his own dirty work. He’s not a bombastic blowhard like Alabaster, more interested in showing off his brilliance than actually getting through his agenda. The man is a master. A thinker. Content to work from the shadows.”
“You speak like you know the man.”
“Know of him. Know enough of him to know that he’s everywhere and nowhere. Half the men in the fug work for him and don’t know it. Fugtown is a monument to his brilliance. The trade between Circa, Westrim, and the fug was crafted by him. The way things are today, the balance of the world that we enjoy has got his name written all over it.” He released a dry cough. “Keep your money. I haven’t got anything to help you, and the last thing I need is to bump into one of his boys with a handful of your lucre in my pocket. He’ll know where it was from, and he’ll take the steps necessary to make sure I never even get the chance to say his name again.”
Cap’n Mack puffed his cigar. “Sounds to me like you’re downright shakin’ in your boots at the thought of him.”
“I am. Everyone should be. Some people you fear for what they’ve done. He’s one you fear because you’ll never know all the things he’s done.”
Mack nodded, took another puff, and stubbed out his cigar in the palm of his glove.
“Some wisdom in that,” he said. “Any of you boys got anything to add?”
“If Tusk is out there, you’ll never find him. You’d have to pick the whole fug apart to even get a glimpse of him.”
“That’s fine.” He stowed the cigar and reclaimed the trith. “Lil, head on out and get the ladder wrangled.”
Lil slipped her mask on and hurried outside.
“Let’s have a word about them two kinds of people you’re afraid of, boys. Tusk’s this fella who sneaks and peeks in the dark. Doin’ this and that. Movin’ his pieces on the board. That’s all well and good. Me and the Wind Breaker crew? We ain’t like that. I’m that other sort of fella to be afraid of. I’m the one that does my deeds right out where you can see ’em. By now I reckon you got your favorites. It was me and my crew that took down that dreadnought. We pulled a heist of a Fugtown warehouse. Cleaned you boys out good and proper. We’re the reason there ain’t no place called Skykeep no more. Busted our gals out, then crashed the whole place for good measure.”
He picked up the flask he’d opened. “We even got ourselves a supply of this stuff. Even Ebonwhite ain’t got his own supply of that.”
He slid his mask into place and capped the flask. Thick plumes of purple started to pour in through the cracks in the walls and roof, curling around the rafters.
“I never been one to spoil for a fight. Spent my time in the navy. Glad to be out of it. Any business that can’t do its thing without a war brewin’ is one I’d just as soon stay out of. But all the same, I’m the sort of man who when you push me, I push back. And I push hard. Hard enough to knock you down. Hard enough that if I do it twice, you don’t get back up. So don’t make me do it twice. I’ve had to do more than my share of pushin’ lately. Enough to make a name for myself. Word is, you talk about the Wind Breaker down here, folks are just as likely to flinch as they are to spit and curse. We’re gettin’ to be the story folks tell around the campfire. The sort that’ll give you nightmares.”
“Don’t flatter yourself. You’re common outlaws,” Vest said.
“Outlaws, sure. But we ain’t common. I got in touch with all of you because you all are the sort who set the price on an outlaw’s head. I wonder. What sort of price is on mine right now?”
“Enough to retire on. Which makes me wonder why you would be foolish enough to let your crew leave you alone in here with us instead of keeping them here to watch your back,” Black-suit said, drawing his pistol.
“My crew is always watching my back,” Mack said.
The roof above them buckled and crunched. Black-suit flinched, firing his gun uselessly into the wall beside Mack. An iron hook punched down through the roof on one side of a rafter. A second one punched through beside a second rafter.
“Tusk ain’t the only fella I’ve dealt with who don’t like showin’ his face. I know my way around that sort of thing. You muck with enough of his plans, and you cost him enough money, he’ll show his face,” Mack said.
The chains affixed to the hooks drew tight, causing them to bite into the rafters.
“You said somethin’ about me having to pick the whole fug apart to find Tusk. I reckon you’re right. This is as good a place as any to start.”
He paced to the door as the roof began to creak and shudder.
“Oh,” he said, looking over his shoulder. “If any of you boys do end up crossing paths with Tusk… let him know I’m lookin’ for him.”
#
Mack stepped outside as the large, rather ornate airship overhead revved its turbines. Lil was a short distance way, holding the lowest rung of a ladder that dangled down from the ship.
“You get anything more out of ’em before Nita did her thing, Cap’n?” she asked, presenting the ladder to him.
“No, Lil. Didn’t expect to. This here’s more about letting folks know we’re as bad as they say we are, and we ain’t sittin’ on our hands. Word’ll get to Tusk. Tusk’ll have to do something he wasn’t planning to do, and we’ll be watching. Or we’ll keep at this until Tusk’s the sort no one’ll work with again. Either way suits me.”
He skillfully ascended the dangling rope ladder. The patrons and employees of the pub rushed out in a panic. As if on cue, once Lil was on the ladder behind him, the roof of the building collapsed and the Wind Breaker surged forward. The Sieve folded like a house of cards, roof slumping in and walls crumbling outward. Those who had rushed from the building could do little more than stare at it, dumbfounded. The quicker thinking among them took a few pot shots at the departing Wind Breaker.
Mack and Lil made their way into the ship through the crew hatch on its belly. Coop was there to greet them.
“Everything go just about how you wanted it to, Cap’n?” Coop asked.
“Could’ve gone better. Could’ve found Tusk in there and put this whole thing to bed,” Mack said. “As it was, message sent loud and clear. Best as we could figure, all three of them boys worked for Tusk at one time or another, and th
at pub was where he set up business for each of them. This here’s a fuse well-lit. Now we’ve just got to be ready for the blast so we can live long enough to find where it came from.”
He and the others made their way up through the ship to the main deck. Nita was there, along with Gunner, the ship’s munitions officer, who was at the wheel. He stepped aside.
“That was fine work, Nita. Came down real nice,” Mack said.
“If you know how something comes together, you know how it’ll come apart,” she replied.
Gunner crossed his arms and leaned back against the railing of the helm. His face, in addition to its near constant peppering of burns and scrapes, bore a particularly stern look.
“Have you got something to say, Gunner?” Mack asked, checking the instruments and making an adjustment to the heading.
“No, Captain,” he said unconvincingly.
Lil grinned. “He’s still sore you didn’t let him blow the place up.”
Coop scratched his head. “That’d’ve been quite a sight, Cap’n. Seein’ as how he’s blown up so many things by accident, it’d be a hell of a thing to see what he could’ve done on purpose.”
“Coop, literally every ship we’ve ever taken down has been due to my precise application of explosives,” Gunner countered.
“Except the ones we dropped boats on,” Lil said. “And that time Nita sabotaged the boiler.”
“Plus, you always smell like burnt hair, and that’s because of the knowledge you got that ain’t so precise,” Coop added.
“Experimentation under controlled conditions is—”
“Quit jawin’ about it,” Mack said. “This was to send a message. One of your bombs wouldn’t’ve left anyone standing to deliver it. Especially now that you and Prist have been tinkering together.”
Lil elbowed Nita. “I reckon that ain’t all they been doin’ together.”
“Everyone quit your jawin’!” Mack said. “We got some errands to run. Bits and pieces what need buyin’. That’ll give us a few days runnin’ around to shake off anyone liable to catch hold of our tail and see if we shook Tusk out of the weeds. Then we’ll be headin’ to the Ichor Well to resupply and finish fortifying. That means our next stop is the last one we’re going to get to drop anyone off if they have second thoughts before the real shootin’ starts.”
Cipher Hill Page 2
