by Joseph Lallo
Once or twice Nita glanced aside to her family, hoping that they were enjoying the performance as much as she. They had the same look of wonder and joy as the rest of the crowd, though Lita spared a glimpse of her own to Nita, flashing a warm smile.
All too soon the transfixed crowd watched as Lil’s performance returned to earth. She dropped down lightly and performed a final flourish. When the music dropped away, the crowd erupted into thunderous applause.
Nita rushed out onto the “stage” to congratulate her former crewmate. Lil was heaving breath but still riding high on the thrill of the performance.
“There you are, darlin’,” she trilled, throwing an arm around Nita. “How’d I do?”
“Wonderful,” Nita said. “I’m so proud. I knew you were a natural for something like this.”
“I reckon so,” Lil said, reaching up to brush a tear that Nita hadn’t noticed had trickled down her cheek. “I ain’t sure I’ll ever quite understand you folk. Tearin’ up on account of a lady swingin’ about.”
“You did beautifully, Miss Cooper,” Mrs. Graus said, stepping up beside her daughter. “A highlight of the year, to be sure. I know some dancers within the audience who would dearly love to know how you develop such an affinity for the sky.”
“Just gotta live there for a couple of years,” Lil said with a shrug.
“Not too bad, Lil,” Coop said, punching her in the shoulder. “Ain’t no spoon playin’, but not too bad.”
The rest of the audience began to filter forward, their comments blending into a din, but she thumped forward, gathering up her skirt, and pushed through.
“I know, folks. I thank you, but I heard Butch made slop-in-the-pot, and it’s callin’ my name.”
#
The night rolled forward, and as hoped, the performance had thawed the reception to the Wind Breaker crew. Lil was something of a celebrity in the blink of an eye, swamped by the audience who had watched her impressive feats, but the others earned their share of admirers as well, if only to find out what other tricks they might have up their sleeves.
It all got to be a bit much for Nikita, who was torn between her desire to stick as close as possible to Coop and to get as far from the crowd as possible. Eventually Coop found his way backstage to give Nikita a break from the press of people. It helped that the dessert served after the final performance was macaroons, or as the inspectors had come to call them, “good food.”
As Nikita gnawed happily at one of the treats and Coop sipped at a cup of coffee, he noticed someone approach from the main dining room. Nikita grabbed an extra macaroon and huddled a little closer. It turned out to be Lita.
“Ah, there you are,” she said. “I’d wondered where you’d gotten off to.”
“Just takin’ a bit of a breather. Nikita here ain’t one for loads of people all at once.” He took another sip. “Mighty fine coffee you folks make here, by the way.”
“I’ll be sure to tell the cook. Coop, if I may call you that?”
“Most folks do.”
“I’d like to apologize. Joshua and I dreamed up this little show in hopes of helping people see the common interests your people and mine might have, and I shamefully must say I’d not given you the benefit of the doubt I’d been asking others to give.”
“Didn’t bother me none,” he said simply. “Ain’t nothing new.”
“Still, it is unforgivable. Without realizing it, I’d made my mind up about you. I’d believed all the nasty things I’d heard about people from Rim. It is silly in retrospect, but all my life I’d heard whispered tales about how you people behave when the only one of us who would know, my own sister, said they simply were not so of your crew. And yet, I needed to see for myself.”
“In my experience, most folks could stand to see for themselves before they believe anything, good or bad. Me? I always reckoned you Calderan folk were nothin’ but frou-frou fancy types who couldn’t do much worth doin’. Nita ain’t that. Lot’s of these folks are,” he said, gesturing vaguely, “but there ain’t nothin’ wrong with that.”
Lita laughed. “You have a refreshing directness about you.”
“Puttin’ on airs is more trouble than it’s worth, most days. What-all sort of stuff did you hear about us that we ain’t doin’?”
“I wouldn’t want to spread such drivel.”
“For all you know, it ain’t. Me and the crew could just be better’n most back home.”
“Again, not that I’d believe it any longer, but I’d heard that Rim men only think about women. You’ve been a perfect gentleman, even though there were some very lovely ladies out there talking to you after the show.”
“A fella’s gotta know how to act, though them ladies might’ve got a bit further if not for the fact that I’m courtin’ your sister.”
Lita blinked. “Are you?”
“Sure. You havin’ read all about us in her letters, she must’ve said all the stuff I been doin’.”
“Ah, yes. The poem and such. But… well, has she reciprocated?”
“That when she does the courtin’ back?”
“In a way.”
“Not as such, but she ain’t said no. Still hope, right?”
“I don’t… you may want to discuss it with her.”
“I’m givin’ her time to show where her heart’s at.”
“Coop, has it occurred to you that she might have already shown where her heart is?”
“I ain’t certain I follow.”
“She’s written a bit about you in her letters, but she’s written volumes about Lil. And I don’t know if you saw how she watched Lil during her performance, but I’ve never seen that look in her eyes for anyone else.”
“They’re just pals is all. It’s all peas and carrots between the two of them up on the ship. Been that way since darn near the start.”
“Isn’t that how the two of you would be if you were together? That is, romantically, as you’ve pursued.”
“I reckon so…” Coop furrowed his brow. “You sayin’… Nita and Lil?”
“Isn’t it possible?”
“But that don’t… they’re both…” He scratched his head. “How’d’ya reckon? She ain’t said as such, has she?”
“No, but then she hasn’t said no, has she? By your own logic, there’s still hope, right?”
He turned the pieces about for a moment, then set them aside. “You gave me somethin’ to think about. That why you came back here?”
“No. Heavens no. I just wanted to congratulate you on acquitting yourself so well on stage. I wonder, do you share a similar grace of motion with your sister?”
“You mean swingin’ all about on ropes and such?”
“I’d like to think there was a bit more to it than that.”
“A bit more? That I ain’t got. Only the swingin’ on ropes and such.”
“I really think you should consider something that would place you on stage a bit more often. You have presence, Coop. Potential.”
“I reckon you’d know better’n me.”
“I’d like to give you some books, if you’d be willing to look them over. Maybe they would inspire you.”
“They got pictures?”
“Some of the finest paintings you have ever seen.”
“Sure, I’ll take a look.” He finished his coffee. “I reckon I’d best get back out there. Seems a mite silly to go to all the trouble to put on a show and then tuck myself away.”
“Lovely,” Lita said. “There is a man I’d like you to meet. If you enjoy ‘playing the spoons,’ then I think you and he will have some interesting things in common.”
The trio paced back onto the stage and down to the dining room to once again mingle.
#
The reception following the show had lasted a bit longer than anticipated, thanks in no small part to its great success at its stated goal of introducing another side of the Wind Breaker crew to the people. True, th
e conversations often had a flavor that was more similar to detached fascination than true camaraderie, but at least even the most skeptical of viewers were speaking to the crew rather than about them.
By the time it ended, coolness of night had descended over the airfield. That was welcome, though. There had been much to do before the ship could leave. The captain’s discussions weren’t entirely about policy. The lowered gig, which on land served as little more than a cargo lift, was stacked to capacity with crates of some items that likely never would have made their way to the former docking location at the Moor Spires. A smattering of fine art—mostly things given to the crew by artists enchanted by the idea of their work being displayed in Rim—joined crates of exotic fruit preserves, unique spices, fine wines, and other things the people of Rim hadn’t had the chance to sample since before the borders closed. It was long, sweaty work loading it up, as the seaside air was heavy and humid even on the coolest nights.
“Let’s get them crates loaded up,” the captain barked. “There’s a strong wind movin’ them clouds. I want us in it and takin’ advantage.”
“This is the last one,” Nita said, dropping her end of a case that she and Coop had unloaded from the carriage.
She brushed her hands off and offered one to Captain Mack for a shake. “I know it’s been said a thousand times, but I am genuinely proud to share my home with you, and I am already looking forward to the next time you come back.”
“It’s a fine thing to have a steady place to set anchor until that island I put my name to is ready for me,” Mack said, reaching into his jacket to fetch a folded bit of paper. “And your folk put in some pricey orders that ought to speed up the finances a bit. We’ll be seein’ you plenty.”
He stepped into what little space was left in the gig and called up. “Bring her up, Lil, and come say your good-byes.”
“Aye, Cap’n,” she called from above.
The gig rattled and began to rise under the power of the boiler above them. Coop, who had been rather quiet through the work, said, “Nita, now that it ain’t in the way of workin’, I reckon there’s something you and me gotta talk about.”
“Sure, Coop. What’s wrong?”
“I been doin’ some thinkin’ about you an’ me and thing’s that’ve been said and things that ain’t, and—”
Nita’s face dropped a bit. “Oh, Coop. Listen, I’m sorry if I’ve been, um, stringing you along. It wasn’t my intention. It’s just—”
He waved his hand. “This ain’t about you stringin’ me along. A fella’s gotta know when to start and when to stop, and if I’d’ve been dead set on you and me bein’ an us, I’d’ve done a bit more. I can look after myself. But I’m a big brother, too. And a big brother’s gotta look after his sister.”
Nita shook her head. “I don’t understand.”
“Lita and me had a chat, and she was sayin’ how she saw you lookin’ at Lil all sparkle-eyed and the like, and how them letters you wrote was as much about her as anyone else. And it got me thinkin’ to all the time you folks spend together and how you’re thick as thieves and all.”
“Coop?” Lil called from above, kicking the ladder down from the crew hatch. “What’re you mutterin’ and mumblin’ about down there?”
Coop continued. “Now it don’t make no sense to me, but Gunner’d tell you there’s plenty of things that work even if I don’t know how. Most’ve ’em seem to be about ladyfolk, and after this trip a whole lot more are about Calderan ladyfolk. So I don’t want you to pay me no never-minds when it comes to you and me, but if you been stringin’ Lil along, you and me are gonna have words, and right quick.”
“Coop!” Lil said, hopping down from the ladder with a stricken expression.
“Lil, what’s gotta be said’s gotta be said,” Coop said.
“Not about me it ain’t,” Lil said.
“Coop, do you think that there is something more than friendship between me and your sister?” Nita asked.
“What I’m sayin’ is if there is, you better do right by Lil and make it plain, because I ain’t lettin’ you leave her twistin’ in the wind while I got somethin’ to say about it.”
Nita turned to Lil. “Lil is this…” She trailed off as she saw the look of profound, soul-deep distress in Lil’s eyes. “Do you feel that way about me?”
“I don’t know… I… well… since back in Skykeep, and even before… I didn’t reckon it was somethin’ that needed to be said. I reckoned it just was. It wasn’t until the chair, and then when we were talkin’… look, you don’t need to say nothin’.”
“Oh yes she does,” Coop said. “Knowin’s better’n not knowin’.”
“Lil…” Nita said. “I never thought about it like…”
Lil didn’t let her finish. Instead she turned to her brother and hammered his arm with three swift punches that went well past playfulness.
“You dang idiot galoot,” she growled, tears in her eyes. “You just had to go and run that mouth of yours, and now you got things all twisted up.” She dashed to the ladder and scurried up into the belly of the ship like a struck dog.
“Lil! Lil!” Coop called, eyes turned to the crew hatch. When she didn’t reply, Coop turned to Nita. “Ain’t but one thing’d churn her up like that. Now you gonna give a straight answer? You gonna cut her loose?”
“I don’t know. I just… I don’t know.”
Coop climbed up onto the ladder. “Well you got until we come back to work it out, because ain’t nobody gonna drag a Coop around by the heart.”
He ascended into the belly of the ship and pulled the ladder up behind him. The turbines sputtered and spun up. The ground crew—steamworkers dragged out of bed to see to their departure—released the mooring lines.
Nita stood at the airfield, her clothes rustling in the backwash of the powerful turbines as the ship swept away. She watched it for a long time, not moving until it was just an indistinct speck of darkness. Finally she shook herself to her senses and paced toward the carriage. It may no longer have been carrying its cargo, but it was certainly bringing Nita home with a considerable weight to bear.
Chapter 9
Gunner grimaced in pain. It had taken nearly two days to get safely back to Ichor Well. Now Digger was seeing to the preparations for their next step while Gunner sat in Dr. Prist’s laboratory, the closest thing they had to an infirmary at the moment. He was having his leg patched up by Prist, who, similarly, was as close as they had to a medic at the moment.
“I forgot how much a fresh wound stings when the fug hits it,” Gunner hissed.
“You lost a lot of blood,” Dr. Prist said. “Why didn’t you rush back here for treatment?”
“Those quick ships are fragile as glass. We were lucky to get it anywhere near The Thicket without completely failing. We stashed it to the north and took Digger’s mail ship back. At least that way we could avoid leading anyone here.”
“You were risking your life,” she said.
“Better mine than all yours and the security of this place. But never mind me, I’ve taken worse hits than this,” Gunner said. “There’s a repair crew prepping right now to head out, find the ship, and patch it up. By the time it’s ready, I need to know what sort of a scheme Tusk has been putting together. I need to know what I’m going to be charging into.”
“How can I help?”
“Just… egad that hurts… just listen to the facts. You’ve got a different way of thinking. You may notice something I’ve missed.”
“Take me back to the beginning then,” she said. “I can’t know if you’ve missed something if I don’t know what you’ve noticed.”
Gunner ran through everything he and Digger had determined, no matter how small. He’d only just finished when Dr. Prist finished tending to his wound.
“There certainly is a great deal to go through. Let us see… You say he’s built a duplicate of the Wind Breaker. Perhaps he intends to spoil your reputation? Comm
it random atrocities along Rim to turn your people against you?”
“That would explain the ship itself, but it wouldn’t explain some of the other things. The ichor, and the sea salt.”
“Calderan sea salt is very valuable. Wealth is motivation enough to do anything. But the ichor… it may have even more value, but the only people who can put it to proper use are we and the people in South Pyre, both of whom already have all we’ll ever need. What good will a relatively small amount of it do anyone?”
“Let’s start with where he got it from, then. Could he possibly have gotten it from here?”
“No, not possible. Even with the spies, Digger has been utterly fastidious about keeping careful inventory on every drop of the stuff. A cask of the size you’ve described simply could not have gone missing.”
“What about from South Pyre? Could it have been stolen or purchased from there?”
“The protocols there are, if anything, more strict than here. I was nearly thrown in Skykeep for attempting to take a single vial of the stuff for personal study back when I was being trained to process it. If any of it had gone missing at any point in recent history, crews would be tearing the fug apart looking for it every single day.”
“Recent history? Implying if it had gone missing some time ago it might be missed?”
“Certainly. The calamity wiped away nearly all records. There is always the chance some quantity of the stuff remains to be accounted for from the relatively primitive handling of it that, in all likelihood, caused the calamity.”
Gunner rubbed his forehead. “The theft from the museum then. Alabaster mentioned a theft of something valuable from a museum near South Pyre.”
“Ah… Yes… Yes, that might just be the sort of place one could find some stray ichor,” she said. “But that still doesn’t explain why he’d want it.”
