Nimbus: A Steampunk Novel (Part One)

by B.J. Keeton

  “When do you get out of here?” Jude asked, deciding it was best to change the subject.

  “Whenever I feel up to it, I suppose.” Fritz sat up in his cot. “Thorne is dead, you know. I saw him get struck by lightning—right in front of me.”

  “We know,” Valencia said. She looked particularly upset about something. “They had a little service up on deck for everybody who died. All the bodies are going to be shipped to their families once we reach the next skyport. Well, except for Vincent Miles, he’s…he’s gone.”

  “Miles?” Fritz asked. “Second Mate Miles?”

  “The tornado took him,” Jude said. The memory still clung to his brain like a nasty parasite. “We were flying around the top of the tornado, and Miles got sucked in. It was pretty bad.”

  Gwynn, who had been listening to their conversation without any sense of shame, leaned forward. “I thought tornadoes needed ground.”

  “Well, I’m sure there’s ground down there, Robert,” Valencia said in an annoyed voice. “We just can’t get there, what with all the deathly fog floating around.”

  Gwynn mumbled something under his breath in an irritable tone, but appeared to stop listening to their conversation. The ship doctor, Mattock, came in and started making his morning rounds. Doc Mattock had a habit of kicking out visitors, so Jude knew their time with Fritz was short.

  “Did someone else get Miles’ job?” Fritz asked.

  Jude couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah, I did, but not because I wanted it.”

  “Schlocky force you?” Fritz asked.

  “Pretty much,” Jude said. He looked over at Doc Mattock, who was busy with another patient but getting closer. “Feel better, okay?”

  Fritz nodded. “I’ve just got bad memories, that’s all. Thorne getting killed brought them all back to me. Whoever said there’s such a thing as a clean death was lying. Death is about the messiest thing there is.”

  Valencia patted Fritz on the shoulder and smiled, even though Jude was fairly sure there were tears in her eyes. Something had to really be bothering her—Vale wasn’t the crying type. She opened her mouth to speak, hesitated, and then left the infirmary without as much as a goodbye.

  “She’s worried about you,” Jude said, watching Valencia go out the door.

  “I’ll bounce back to my old self,” Fritz said. “I always do. I just need some time down here, where I can’t see the sky or clouds or anything. You understand, right?”

  Jude nodded even though he didn’t really understand at all.

  “You remember last week when I couldn’t find you anywhere? And I was missing in action for a couple of days?”

  “Yeah, I remember,” Jude said. He was suddenly very uncomfortable, and he got the feeling Fritz was about to reveal something very personal. “The clouds had made you queasy. I remember.”

  “It wasn’t just the clouds—”

  “Fritz—”

  “—it would have been my son’s sixth birthday,” Fritz said quickly. He looked away, as if embarrassed. “It’s been two years since the fog took him. Two long years since I’ve been home.”

  “Why are you telling me this?” Jude asked.

  “Because you’re the only friend I’ve had since it happened,” Fritz said. “And I’ve got to tell somebody. I’m tired of carrying it around with me like a shameful secret. I’m not trying to make you feel awkward or anything, but…”

  “I’m fine,” Jude said, though he shifted slightly on his feet.

  Before Fritz could say more, Doc Mattock moved to them and told Jude to get out. With a sympathetic wave to his friend, Jude left the infirmary and started back up to the housing level, mulling over his thoughts. But he didn’t get far when he spotted Valencia coming back down the stairwell.

  “Reedy is looking for you,” she said. She no longer looked quite as upset. “I told him I’d come find you. It sounded important.”

  “I guess Schlocky’s ready for me,” Jude said. With no real enthusiasm, he began to climb the stairs.

  ***

  Jude had never been inside the pilot’s house before. It was a large, square room filled with knobs, dials and the continuous whirring of mechanical instruments. When Reedy led him inside the room, Jude’s first impression was that it was a sort of clubhouse for the captain and his personal crew.

  The back wall was covered with maps and a tiny man sat at a desk there, carefully studying a beeping monitor. Three more men were sitting around the room at various desks, each appearing to do no real work whatsoever. Captain Schlocky himself was leaning back in a chair with his feet propped up on his desk, picking bits of dirt off his boots.

  “You healed up yet?” he asked without looking at Jude. He tore a piece of dried mud away from the heel of his boot and tossed it on the floor. “I figured Cal would find you sooner or later. It’s been three days. I figured you might’ve been up here before then.”

  “I thought you were going to tell me when to report to you,” Jude said.

  “A lack of initiative is a poor trait to have, kid.” Schlocky finally looked over at Jude, who couldn’t tell if the captain was smiling or gritting his teeth. “Miles was the same way—quiet, slow, and craven. You’re not gonna be like him, are you?”

  “I don’t think so,” Jude said. “And I don’t think I’m slow or craven either.”

  “But you are quiet,” Schlocky said. It could have been a question or a statement. He scoffed as his eyes darted over Jude, apparently sizing him up. “Your duties are few. You report to the pilot’s house every morning at seven and get to go back to your room around nine that night. You do whatever Reedy or I tell you to do, and you don’t object or you get left behind at the next skyport. You understand?”

  Jude nodded curtly. He couldn’t decide whether he liked Schlocky or not. The man was detestable, but there was a certain quality about him that commanded attention and respect. After a moment of awkward silence, Schlocky looked at Reedy.

  “Anything you want to add, Cal?” he asked.

  “You sit at that empty desk in the back,” Reedy told Jude. He pointed to a tiny, wooden desk stashed between a large telescope and what appeared to be a vacant birdcage. “Miles’ things have already been taken out. Anything you want to move up here, you can move. A new waistcoat and cap are in the top drawer—navy blue, like the rest of the captain’s personal crew.”

  “Speaking of which,” Schlocky grumbled. “Where is that badge I gave you, boy?”

  Jude pulled it out of his pants pocket and Schlocky gave him a sharp, angry glare. The tiny man in the back turned to look and seemed frightened by what he was seeing. Calvin Reedy, however, did nothing, but remained standing close to Jude.

  “Put that badge where I can see it,” Schlocky said. “And if I ever catch that thing in your pocket again, I’m going to throw you overboard myself. Maybe the fog will get you before you hit the ground.”

  “Ah, come on, Allister,” said a man sitting by a window. “Give the kid a break. He’s new. Give him time to learn the rules before you throw him to the fog.”

  Schlocky turned to glare at the man, but then turned his attention back to Jude. “Meet Thomas Dirk, the nephew of Alfred Gangly and co-owner of this vessel,” he said unenthusiastically. “And the only man I don’t kill for calling me by my first name, but only because of his family ties.”

  “Ah, Allister,” said the man in a pompous way that Jude wasn’t crazy about, “you and I both know this is Uncle Alfred’s vessel. I just work on it. Same as you. Besides, the last time I checked, you’re the captain. I’m just here to make sure everything runs according to my uncle’s wishes.”

  Schlocky’s eyes grew wide with rage, but he didn’t respond to Dirk. Instead, he stood up from his chair and went over to the other two men sitting near the windows.

  He pointed at the first one. “This is Adam Hardy, a kind of co-pilot,” he told Jude.

  He pointed at the second man, a chubby fellow with glasses. “This is Curtis B
rent, the Third Mate. He’s the only one who works under you, but don’t abuse the privilege the way Miles did. And don’t ask him to retrieve important documents you accidentally had thrown in the fire. You still got those burn marks, Curt?”

  The chubby man nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  Jude followed Schlocky toward the back of the room, where the tiny man with the maps sat studying the beeping monitor once again. The man wheeled around in his chair when Schlocky tapped him on the shoulder, giving both the captain and Jude a weak smile.

  “This stubby fellow is Michael Bernard, but we all call him Atlas,” Schlocky said. “He’s the ship navigator and map-keeper. Boring stuff, really.”

  “You know, I’ve been reading a book about all the skyports of Nimbus,” Jude told Atlas, who seemed friendly enough.

  “Oh, really,” said the navigator. “How fascinating! Just the other day I was—”

  “Anyway!” Schlocky yelled over them. “Your desk is over there, kid. Change into your new clothes, wear that badge, and sit at the desk until you’re told otherwise. Don’t listen to anyone but me and Cal.“ He leaned in closer and said under his breath, “Not even that old prick Thomas Dirk. You understand?”

  “I understand.”

  Jude took off his thin jacket and put on the navy blue, wool waistcoat. It was too warm in the pilot’s house for the cap, but Jude wore it anyway—just like everyone else in the room. He also made sure he put his badge in a place where everyone could see it, just above the left breast pocket of his coat. For most of the morning he sat at his desk and occasionally studied the maps covering the back wall. They were more precise than the ones in his book, and Jude found them fascinating.

  “What is that thing?” Jude asked Atlas, who was still studying the beeping monitor.

  “It reads the area just outside the proximity of the airship,” said Atlas. “It notifies us when clouds are nearby by checking the humidity of the air. It’s very interesting stuff, if you ask me. Wonderful how technology works, isn’t it?”

  Jude nodded. He proceeded to spend most of the afternoon listening to the periodical beeping of the monitor and the whirring of all the machines. It made him dreadfully sleepy, but he feared to know what would happen if Reedy or Schlocky caught him sleeping. Working in the pilot’s house was boring, and Jude missed socializing with his friends below deck. But Atlas told him that the pay was double what Jude had been making, which made it seem worth the suffering.

  The sun was beginning to set, causing the surrounding sky to go a strange shade of orange, when the monitor started beeping more sporadically. Jude turned to see what was happening. Atlas appeared confused and tapped his finger against the screen while looking at the maps.

  “What is it?” Reedy called from up front. He was busy steering the captain’s wheel and didn’t bother turning around. “A cloud?”

  “No, this is something different,” Atlas said. He leaned in to examine the screen closer, still tapping his fingers nervously across the screen. “It’s beeping like it’s found a skyport, but there’s not one around here according to my maps. The closest one is the Spire, and that’s at least a week away.”

  Jude peered out of the window and looked around. Orange sky was everywhere and not a cloud in sight. He wasn’t sure how far away the monitor could detect things, but…

  He squinted when he thought he caught a glimpse of something. Sure enough, there was a twinkling in the distance, as if something glass had been caught by sunlight.

  “Shut that monitor up!” Schlocky said. “If there aren’t clouds out there, then why is it making all that racket?”

  “I don’t know,” Atlas replied. “It’s registering that there’s a skyport nearby.”

  “I don’t see anything,” Dirk said in a skeptical tone. “Maybe the machine is broken. We can get it fixed when we reach the Spire.”

  “But my maps aren’t broken,” Atlas said.

  “There!” Jude said. He pointed out the window. They were getting closer to whatever it was and he could clearly see a weathered looking skyport up ahead. “It’s just north of us.”

  Curtis Brent and Adam Hardy ran to Jude’s side of the room and looked with him. Dirk didn’t move, but just sat back with a cocky grin on his face. Schlocky remained seated, and Reedy was busy at the wheel, but Atlas seemed to be frantically studying his maps. He ran down the length of the back wall where the maps hung, his finger trailing across the pieces of parchment as though it were a magnet searching for a tiny piece of metal.

  “Well, what is it?” Dirk asked. He put his arms behind his head and leaned back, yawning. “I would expect our navigator to know these kinds of things.”

  “Hang on…” Atlas ran back and forth, studying the maps. Finally, he slammed his finger onto one tiny speck and smiled. “That’s why I didn’t know about it. It’s not on most of my maps, but this one is older and still has it. No wonder.”

  “Enough speaking in mysteries,” said Dirk. “Spit it out already.”

  “It’s called the Auger’s Lighthouse,” said Atlas. “It’s only on my oldest map because it’s been abandoned for a while. I’m afraid I don’t know much else about it.”

  “I do,” said Jude.

  All eyes in the pilot’s house turned to him—even Reedy averted his eyes away from steering to look at Jude. Schlocky rolled his chair closer to the back and folded his arms, while Dirk seemed to be studying Jude the way most people study a spider that has crawled into their bed.

  “You do?” Atlas asked.

  Jude nodded and cleared his throat. “The book I’ve been reading mentions the Auger’s Lighthouse.”

  “What book?” Dirk asked, stroking his chin.

  “It’s called Maps of the Skies: A Complete Guide to Nimbus,” said Jude.

  “Where did you get that book?” Dirk asked. He had a strange, knowing look in his eye. “That book has been banned for a century.”

  “I brought it up from Burrow 12,” said Jude. “Why is it banned? There’s nothing in there that would—”

  “Tell us about this place already,” Schlocky said bitterly. “What do you know about it?”

  “It was one of the first skyports ever built,” Jude said. “It was constructed before the fog came, back when people were first taking to the skies over a thousand years ago. I don’t know all the words in the book, but it mentions the port was abandoned because of something hidden away in there. It was too dangerous for people to live there anymore, I guess, and it was abandoned a few centuries ago. There was a part explaining why it’s called the Auger’s Lighthouse, but the words were—well, I couldn’t understand it, really.”

  “Do you have this book with you?” Dirk asked.

  “I don’t care about the book,” Schlocky snapped. He looked at Jude with that familiar pirate’s grin. “What about the thing that was locked away?”

  “I just know something was hidden away there, and the people left.”

  “You mean treasure?” Schlocky asked. “Something valuable?”

  “I don’t know,” Jude answered. He turned toward Atlas. “Do you?”

  Atlas shrugged. “Don’t look at me. I just found out the place existed a few minutes ago.”

  “We’re getting closer,” Reedy said from the front of the room, still steering the ship. “What do you want me to do, Captain?”

  “It’s dangerous,” Dirk said with a warning look in Schlocky’s direction. “It would be reckless to go in there and explore. People could get killed. Besides, Allister, the whole place could come tumbling down as soon as we docked. That skyport looks in horrible disrepair.”

  “Yes, but there could be something of value stashed away in there,” said Schlocky. He tapped his fingers against his desk for a few moments while the others looked at him in silence. “Maybe enough for me to retire on—for us all to retire on.”

  “What do you want me to do, Captain?” Reedy repeated, though this time he sounded slightly more anxious.

  “Dock t
he ship,” Schlocky said. He stood and marched toward Reedy. “Pull into the sturdiest-looking hangar, just to keep Dirk happy. We don’t want him running to his uncle and tattling on us. I’ll put a team together and send them to explore the place first and ensure that it’s safe. Then, we’ll all go and investigate. Maybe we’ll find this treasure, take it to the Spire, and sell it for a premium.”

  “You’ve already gotten five people killed because you flew into that storm against my wishes,” said Dirk. He now crossed the room to look Schlocky directly in the eyes. “If anyone so much as breaks a leg on this outing, I’m going to make sure you lose this vessel, Allister.”

  “Hey, kid,” Schlocky said, making a point of ignoring Dirk and looking around at Jude. “You know a lot about this place. How about you prove to me you’re worth the promotion I just gave you.”

  The ship rocked as Reedy brought the Gangly Dirigible to dock, but Jude was too busy looking at Schlocky to admire the stone pillars and marble architecture of the Auger’s Lighthouse. The ship lurched to a stop, but still Jude did not answer.

  “Well?” Schlocky asked, folding his arms once again. “What do you say kid?”

  “I’ll need some people to go with me,” said Jude.

  “Okay, I’ll give you twenty minutes to assemble a team,” the captain said. “When you’ve got everyone together, meet me out on the main deck. And try to keep it under five people, kid. I don’t want a bunch of folks out there admiring the scenery, if you get what I’m saying.”

  Jude was immensely aware of all the sets of eyes staring at him as he left the pilot’s house. It was ominously silent outside, but some people had started coming out onto the deck to see why the ship had stopped and there were gasps from all around as crewmembers took in the sight of the decrepit, abandoned skyport. Jude’s stomach twisted into knots, and all he could think about was the Auger’s Lighthouse basking in the evening sunlight behind him.

  Chapter Eight

  You are weak. You have always been weak. Yet you still manage to resist me.

  When your father performed the Bonding, you were a child, and I agreed only because I would gain a vessel that would be easily overpowered. But now, I find that I am the one imprisoned, not the child so riddled with sickness that his legs were destroyed. You are bound to your chair, just as I am bound to your soul.