Skykeep

by Joseph R. Lallo

  “There’s a bit of it, yes,” Mack said.

  “That’s explosive. Or what’s left of it when it goes off.”

  “You’re sure?” Coop said.

  “Half of my wardrobe smells like that. Trust me. I’m familiar with the aftermath of a good explosion.”

  “But we already knew the thing exploded,” Coop said.

  “They’d have us believe the boiler exploded. A steam explosion is nothing but water and debris. There wouldn’t be any of this stink. At least, not if the boiler blew on its own.”

  “And this isn’t the sort of thing they might put in the firebox,” Mack said.

  “Not unless they wanted it to detonate,” Gunner assured him. “And I’ll tell you this. Matthews is either deaf or a liar.” He pointed the lock. “That’s a bullet hole. If we dig around in there, I bet we’ll find a bullet. Unless miners routinely unload revolvers into locks, I’d say Lil fired a shot.”

  “And Matthews said all he heard was an explosion. No gunshot,” Mack said.

  “So that suit-wearing snake had something to do with this!” Coop fumed. “I’ll kill him!”

  “No, Coop. You’ll stay here and keep guard of the ship.”

  “But—”

  “You questioning my orders, crewman?” Mack asked, his voice steady, but with an edge of reprimand.

  Coop was practically shaking. “No, Cap’n.”

  “Then you will guard the ship with Glinda and Wink. Gunner, you find Matthews and keep an eye on him. Get ready to ask some questions and motivate him to answer good and proper. I’ll have a word with the mayor. Find out what we can about him. And I want all of you to keep your eyes open. This ain’t over by a long shot.”

  All filed toward the door to fulfill their orders. Coop stopped Captain Mack with a hand to the shoulder.

  “Cap’n,” he said.

  “Yes?”

  “I know we’re a crew of seven… even if I’m still not sure Wink oughta count as one, but… you reckon we’re going to be saying any prayers at breakfast?” he asked, his voice shaking with a potent mix of emotions.

  “Times like this, Coop, the question you should be asking is how many other folks are going to be saying prayers tomorrow. Because however this turns out, somebody’s wearing black come sunup.”

  Chapter 3

  A well-dressed but rather shaken gentleman sat at the bar of a small pub near the edge of Lock. One could easily dismiss his rattled appearance from his proximity to the explosion in the mine a few hours earlier, but based on his frequent anxious glances over his shoulder, he was either concerned about a second explosion sneaking up on him, or he had other things on his mind.

  “Henry, are you sure there isn’t another ferry? Something sooner?” Matthews asked, thumping down his shot glass for a third refill.

  “You asked six times, James,” said the bartender, reaching for a bottle. “You know the six o’clock to Clemens Isle is just about the only passenger boat leaving today. What’s got you so jumpy?”

  “I just… I just want to get away for a bit. The mountain almost came down on my head today.”

  The pub was rather empty. It was the second of two such establishments in a town not quite large enough to support such an arrangement, but there was inevitably someone who had been thrown out of the first pub before he or she had reached the desired level of inebriation. These scraps were Henry the bartender’s bread and butter, and right now in addition to Matthews there were two more patrons at the bar and one at a table.

  The door opened, and both Henry and Matthews looked up.

  “Ah, splendid. Just the man I was hoping to see,” said Gunner from the doorway. His voice was oozing with false politeness.

  Matthews turned back to his drink and gulped it down, thumping the glass on the bar again. Gunner sauntered over and sat beside Matthews. His long coat was open, revealing three progressively more threatening weapons strapped to his chest, belt, and thigh.

  “You’re… you’re one of the Wind Breaker crew!” Henry said, a wide smile coming to his face. “You knocked out the dreadnought! By gum, we’ve got a certified celebrity in our midst!”

  There was a halfhearted murmur of appreciation from the rest of the clientele, its lack of enthusiasm having more to do with the veil of alcohol than anything else.

  “Which one are you again?” Henry said.

  “Guy von Cleef. You’d likely know me as Gunner.”

  “Right, right. Gunner. Listen, I heard what happened in the mine. It’s a damn shame what happened to your crewmates, but I want you to know that we all appreciate that they were trying to help us out when it happened.” He set out a glass and filled it with a hearty ale. “Here you go. On the house.”

  “Many thanks, good barkeep,” Gunner said. He took a sip, then turned to Matthews. “What about you, Matthews? Have you got any sympathy for me today.”

  “Yes, yes as I said before, we are all sorry for your loss.”

  “Well, it isn’t a loss yet. Not for certain,” Gunner said. “The rescue crew is hard at work, but that’s a lot of rubble to sort through. Funny thing, Matthews. They’ve got the rescue dogs in the mine, sniffing away, trying to find where the crew should dig. Doesn’t seem like they can catch a whiff of anything.”

  “The dogs aren’t always able to catch a scent. Airflow in a mine is tricky. Especially after an explosion.”

  “No doubt, no doubt,” Gunner said with a nod, taking another sip. “Do you remember the explosion, Matthews?”

  “How can I forget?”

  “Yes, certainly. A thing like that burns itself into one’s mind. I’ve had more than a few similar scares, I’m sure you’re aware. Tell me, what did it sound like, what did it look like?”

  “I’ve said. There was a thunderous sound, and a rush of dust and steam.”

  “Mmm. Yes. That is what you said. A thunderous sound. Just one? Not perhaps a smaller sound first?”

  “Just one burst.”

  “And no flash of light to go with the explosion?”

  “Just dust and debris. And steam.”

  Gunner nodded again and sipped some more. “People are looking for you, you know. The doctors wanted to know if you were all right.”

  “I’m fine. Nothing to worry about. They should focus on finding your crewmates.”

  “Are you certain you’re well enough? It would be a real tragedy if you had an injury you didn’t notice. Your hearing, for instance. An explosion in a mine can be quite detrimental to one’s ears.”

  “I’ve got a bit of a ringing, but I can hear well enough.”

  “Never can be too careful about that,” Gunner finished his ale. “I’ll tell you what. Join me outside for a moment. Let’s have a quick hearing test.”

  “That really isn’t…”

  Gunner pulled back his coat a bit more to reach into his pocket, revealing two more holsters with similarly threatening contents. He fished out a few coins and threw them on the bar. “For my friend’s latest drink.”

  “Really, sir,” Matthews said. “That isn’t necessary. And I don’t need a hearing test.”

  “Nonsense. I insist,” Gunner said, adding in a more ominous tone, “On both counts.”

  Matthews looked to Gunner, an unreadable expression on the latter man’s face.

  “I really would rather not step away at the moment,” Matthews said.

  “Very well, we can do it in here,” Gunner said.

  In a smooth, practiced motion he drew a pistol from one of his many holsters, cocked it, and fired it into the floorboards. The sound was painfully loud, startling all of the patrons and prompting a few passersby to look curiously inside.

  “Did everyone hear that?” Gunner asked innocently.

  “Of course we all heard that. You nearly deafened us!” Henry growled. “Just what are you trying to do, firing that thing in my pub?”

  “And you, Matthews?” Gunner asked calmly, placing the revolver on the bar, its barrel pointed at the man�
�s chest. “Did you hear that?”

  “Yes. Of course,” Matthews said.

  “Rather loud indoors, isn’t it?” Gunner remarked.

  “Very.”

  Gunner picked the revolver back up and spun the chamber, popping it open and fishing a fresh bullet from his pocket to reload. As he did, he chatted idly. “This is my favorite medium-caliber weapon, Matthews. Small enough to conceal, powerful enough to be devastating to a person, and even a bit of a threat to machinery. I’ve made sure every member of the crew has one. Everyone except Nita. She never did embrace the firearm as readily as she might have.” He snapped the weapon shut. “Are you certain you didn’t hear anything before or after the explosion?”

  “Th-there was nothing to hear.”

  Gunner nodded. “Captain’s been talking to the mayor. I understand you’ve been a real help to him. A liaison between him and the other miners.”

  “I do what I can,” he said.

  “And what did you do before?”

  “What does that have to do with—”

  “The mayor says you were in charge of a pilot crew at a little repair pier about seventy miles south of Keystone. You’d bring damaged ships down into the fug for the fuggers to repair. Obviously, since you’re here, you lost your right to do such things… for some reason or another. But you had plenty of contact with the fuggers before that happened. Plenty of contact, and plenty of contacts.”

  “That was a long time ago,” he said.

  “So very long ago. … Let me ask you this, Matthews. If I were to walk you to your home right now, would I find your bags packed?”

  “I’m not comfortable—”

  “Any reason you bought a ticket on a ferry out to Clemens Isle, but no return ticket?”

  “How do you know—”

  “The mayor has been very helpful. He and the captain are rather friendly. Clemens Isle is the closest airport that passenger dirigibles are willing to make stops at, I recall.”

  “I’m visiting family in Keystone.”

  “I’m sure.”

  “Listen, if you are going to accuse me of something, just come right out and say it.”

  “I think you’re working with the fuggers. I think you either conspired with them to kill my friends or conspired with them to cover it up. But there is no reason for you to want those women dead and there is every reason for the fuggers to want them dead, and as a man who moved from a cushy career to a back-breaking one on their whims, I’ve got to imagine you’d do just about anything to get back in their good graces. I don’t know what the truth is, but I know for certain that it isn’t what’s come out of your mouth thus far.”

  Matthews was silent, sweat trickling down his brow.

  Gunner continued. “I’m going to explain something to you right now, Matthews. You know the two women you escorted into that mine and did not escort back out? The little one was a woman named Chastity Cooper. Her older brother is on our ship right now. I’m going to ask you some questions, and I want honest answers. If I get them, you can go on your way and do whatever you choose. Might I recommend you choose to hide from us, because even though we’ve got bigger fish to fry at the moment, it doesn’t mean you’re safe from the skillet. If I don’t get honest answers, you’ll be meeting the man who blames you for burying his sister. As frightening as you might find these guns, Coop will be using his bare hands, and between the two of us, I think your better chance is with me.”

  Matthews looked around. There was nothing quite like a gunshot to bring a handful of drunks back to their wits. Almost every resident of Lock had a bone to pick with the fug folk, and if Gunner’s accusations were true, they now had a bone to pick with Matthews. Half of them would hate him because a bone deep, bitter hatred of the fug folk had been brewing for years and anyone who worked with them was an excellent target for that hostility. The other half would hate him out of envy of the fact he had managed to find a way back to the life from which they had been forced.

  “May I do this outside?” he said quietly.

  “If you think it will help,” Gunner said, letting Matthews lead the way.

  Chapter 4

  As though they had arranged it, the captain and Gunner arrived at the Wind Breaker at the same time. Eight hours had passed since the explosion.

  “What’ve we got?” both men asked the other.

  “You first,” ordered the captain.

  “Sure enough, Matthews was in on it, and the fug folk are behind it. He was kept in the dark about the details, but he was told that there would be an explosion once Nita was nearly through with the repair, and that he was to keep her inside the chamber until it happened. He got paid piles of money and has had his repair privileges reinstated in exchange for what he did. He may not have killed Nita and Lil with his own hands, but he was handsomely rewarded for making sure it happened,” Gunner explained quickly.

  “So where you got him tied up?” called a voice from above as the gig began to lower.

  Standing in the lowering gig like an avenging angel descending from heaven was Coop. He wore no coat and had a pair of rifles strapped to his back, a pair of pistols on his hips, and a cruel pair of brass knuckles on each hand.

  “I let him go. It was the only way to get the full story,” Gunner said, looking up to Coop.

  The deckhand didn’t wait for the gig to touch down. He leaped from the boat and came down hard on Gunner, knocking him to the ground. Coop stood over the downed armory officer and grabbed a handful of his shirt, stooping down and hauling him face to face.

  “You telling me that pile of filth killed my sister and our engineer and you let him go?” He pulled a pistol with his free hand and put it to Gunner’s cheek. “I always knew you didn’t respect me and Lil, but I figured even you would know better’n to get between a man and the man who killed his kin…”

  Gunner drew one of his pistols and pushed it into Coop’s ribs. “Coop, you put that gun away or Butch is going to have a hell of a time finding enough pieces of you to stitch together into something fit for a coffin.”

  “That’s enough, boys,” the captain said, as though they were nothing more than two disobedient children who wouldn’t put away their toys before dinner. “No one’s killing anybody for anything right now, because Lil and Nita ain’t dead. At least, not from the explosion.”

  “How do you know that?” Coop said, dropping Gunner with a thump.

  The drop caused Gunner to whack his head on the ground. It also caused him to fire the gun, fortunately after it was pointed harmlessly over the city rather than at Coop’s chest. The sudden sound startled Coop, who in turn fired his own gun, in his case into the pier beside Gunner’s head.

  “You boys want to put your guns away before we do the fuggers’ job for them?” Captain Mack said wearily.

  “Sorry, Cap’n,” Coop said, holstering his weapon and helping Gunner to his feet. “You sure the girls are alive?”

  “No. But I’m sure the boiler, or whatever else blew that mine to hell, didn’t do them in. The rescue crews have got the place cleared out pretty good. Didn’t find a drop of blood or a shred of clothing. But they did find plenty of rope and climbing equipment.”

  “… You reckon the girls went climbing?” Coop said, anger replaced by confusion.

  “No, Coop, I reckon someone climbed up and got them,” the captain said.

  “And if Matthews was getting paid off by the fuggers, no doubt they’re the ones who got them,” Gunner said.

  “That seems about right,” the captain said. “Anyone come sniffing around the pier while we were gone?”

  “Nope, but I fired some shots all the same. Wanted folks to know I was serious.”

  “If you were firing shots at nothing, I’d be more inclined to assume you are insane,” Gunner said.

  “Either way, it’ll make folks think twice about getting too close,” Coop countered.

  “Fair enough.”

  They all stepped into the gig while Coop scrambled u
p the chain and activated the winch to haul them up into the ship.

  “So what do we do now?” Gunner asked.

  “I’m still chewing that one over, but I know for sure we’re not doing it here. This whole town’s got the stink of fug on it now. The mayor seems straight and narrow enough, but he’s got the wool over his eyes when it comes to who in his staff is trying to romance the fuggers into giving them back the right to pay an arm and a leg to get their ship fixed up. We’re good and stocked when it comes to food, fuel, and phlogiston, so I say we get moving. Sitting in port is making my skin crawl.”

  “Why do I have the feeling that as soon as we get away from the city some ship or another is going to open fire on us?” Gunner said.

  “Because you been at this long enough to know what to expect, that’s why. But roundabout now I could use a little ship-to-ship shooting. Feel like I got my hands tied not knowing where them girls are at.”

  “We can’t afford to take any serious damage without Nita on the crew,” Gunner said. “And there wasn’t much ammo to be had in town, so we’re still low on fléchettes.”

  “Well then, that means three things, doesn’t it?” the captain said. “You better make sure we take out any attackers before they do any damage, we better make every shot count, and you better start explaining why after four months neither of you know how to fix us up. I know for a fact Nita’s been putting you through the paces.”

  “I tried, Cap’n,” Coop said. “That stuff just don’t fit in my head too easy. Takes a lot of tosses before it sticks good and tight. I could slap a patch on the envelope if needs be, and I’m pretty fair at fiddling with the pipes, but once we get into valves and such I’m… well, I’m a bit slow is all.”

  “That much we know about you, Coop,” Gunner said.

  “And what’s your excuse, Gunner?”

  “I’ve been a bit distracted with the gear we liberated from the warehouse. And that’s paid off in the form of better cannons, better deck guns, and better firearms, mind you.”

  “And a fat lot of good any of that will do us if we rupture the boiler and need to rebuild half the system,” the captain said.