by Eric Asher
He crumpled up the page and tossed it onto the floor before laying his head on the workbench.
“Problems?” Frederick asked, bending down to retrieve the paper.
Jacob knotted his fingers in his hair before glancing at Frederick. “If I can get the arm to work, why can’t I get the glider to be lighter?”
Frederick tapped the crumpled paper and stretched it out on the workbench. “What seems to be the issue?”
“It’s going to be too heavy for little kids.”
Frederick nodded. “True, true. And why is that?”
“The leather wings. But if I use a lighter material, the rough brass will cut it.”
“So you stick with leather, and then the frame is too light for the wings?”
“Exactly.”
“Then that is a problem you cannot fix until you learn more. More than I know, for I see no solution to that particular issue. And if one cannot fix the issue at hand, perhaps one has not looked at all angles of the problem.”
“What do you mean?” Jacob asked, sitting back up.
“You’re concerned about the weight. Change its distribution.”
And those words brought Jacob’s mind to a screeching halt. He’d been trying to lighten the entire mechanism, the springs, the bolts, the wings. But what if, instead, he changed the pack itself?
“It would have to be distributed like the shoulder harness Smith built for the chaingun. A loop over each shoulder. At least one chest strap.”
Jacob’s pencil moved across the page with a purpose. Piece by piece, he outlined the curve that could reach over the wearer’s shoulder, spreading the burden over a much wider area.
Frederick smiled and started the calculations for a new build. Jacob watched in fascination as the tinker changed ratios and fractions to adjust to his new design. Charles had been fast to prototype things, and that was how Jacob had learned a great many skills, but Frederick outlined everything on paper, flipping through the math of it as though it all came naturally.
He leaned back and looked at Jacob. “We only need to build the shoulder harness to test this.”
Jacob rubbed his cheek. “I’ll need the chest strap too. And those bolts have to be solid when I jump off the roof.”
Frederick froze. “When you what?”
Jacob grinned at the old tinker.
* * *
Jacob yawned as Frederick stitched rigid leather pads to the shoulder harness. It fit perfectly onto the old frame of the glider. They had to replace some of the bent hinges with new metal, but that proved simpler than Jacob expected with the plethora of pre-manufactured plates and struts in Smith’s workshop.
While the old tinker worked on the final changes to the glider, Jacob set his sights on improving the climbing mechanism for the arm. Some of the city smiths were already scaling up the prototype at the airship docks. When it was done, it would be delivered for testing in the field. Jacob hoped it would be enough to help Ambrose finish the walls faster than most thought possible.
Jacob bolted square hooks to a large wheel. He knew it would have to be removable, or at least retractable, or the arm wouldn’t be able to be moved. Once he finished a second wheel, he slid them onto the base of the prototype.
One of the city tinkers had delivered a scale model of the airship docks they planned to use. Jacob’s prototype was larger in scale than it would be in reality, but that was good enough for a test. He hefted the arm and the wheels and hung them on the side of the model.
“Well, it didn’t fall over,” Frederick said, watching Jacob work.
“Not yet.” Jacob grinned. He clicked the igniter on a Burner and dropped it in beside the small boiler mounted on the arm and waited.
Archibald arrived a few minutes later as the assembly started to steam and sent a small fog of white clouds spiraling into the air.
“Is it supposed to do that?” Archibald asked.
In answer, Jacob threw the switch near the base, wincing away from the heat that had transferred into the prototype. He’d have to fix that or risk causing a fire. There was no hesitation as the wheels turned, and the arm of a Titan Mech slowly crawled upward.
With a now-gloved hand, Jacob flipped the switch to stop it at what amounted to a few stories up. From there, he fiddled with the hydraulic levers, making sure the heat hadn’t caused any leaks and that rotating the arm outward wouldn’t topple the tower.
A few corrections later, the arm picked up a bundle of metal rods, moving them precisely into position with help from the ratcheting joints. Alternating steam and hydraulics, the arm moved up and down the tower with ease. Satisfied, Jacob let the Burner drop from the steam engine into his glove before quenching it.
He turned to Archibald, confused by the blank look on both the Speaker’s face and Frederick’s. “Is something wrong?”
“Jacob,” Archibald started. “Jacob, this could revolutionize our ability to construct towers and docks.”
“Could?” Frederick said with a harrumph. “That boy just changed your entire industry, Archibald.”
Archibald rubbed his chin. “How soon can we have one built?”
“Your tinkers are already working on one at the docks.”
Archibald nodded. “Good, good. We need this in Dauschen.”
“Dauschen?” Jacob asked. “This is for Ancora, to help rebuild the wall.”
“And it will, Jacob.” Archibald reached out with open palms. “It will, but with a dock in Dauschen, we’ll be protecting Midstream, Dauschen, and Ancora.”
Jacob was skeptical, and he did not try to hide the expression from his face.
“Frederick, a moment, please.”
The old tinker stood and left without question. It made Jacob wonder how strict Theodosia was in Belldorn. Frederick didn’t seem to hesitate at any order given to him, no matter how annoying it might be.
“Jacob,” Archibald said when the door closed. “Fel soldiers are still in Dauschen. We have done all we can do to root them out, but we need more soldiers and more supplies. The train to Ancora is gone, which means the only way in is on foot, or by dropping in from an airship.”
“What’s wrong with an airship drop?” Jacob asked.
“It’s not …” Archibald fished for the right words. “It is not as imposing. Not the deterrent we need.”
It felt wrong to Jacob. Ambrose needed the arm, but how was he supposed to say no to the Speaker of Bollwerk? Perhaps no wasn’t the right answer. Perhaps there was another way.
“If I help you with this, I’ll need your word on something.”
Archibald straightened, looked like he was about to speak, and then held his tongue.
“Get Ambrose twenty bolt cannons in the next week, and I’ll help build your dock in Dauschen. I’ll train your people to operate the arm.”
Archibald’s eyes narrowed a fraction. “We have Charles’s drawings. We do not need you to train anyone.”
Jacob shook his head. “That’s not enough. Smith and I changed too much, and that was before Frederick helped improve the ratios.”
Archibald glanced at the bench where Frederick’s schematics were scattered around, drowning in calculations and measurements. Apparently, the chaos left behind was all the convincing Archibald needed. “Twenty bolt cannons. Consider it done.”
“And I’ll need help building new gliders if I don’t die today.”
“Why would you die today?” Archibald’s brow wrinkled.
Jacob smiled and hoisted the glider pack onto his back. “Can you unlock the roof for me?”
* * *
“Theodosia would string me from the docks if she knew I was helping you with this madness,” Frederick muttered. “I’m glad the pack is more comfortable, but that won’t much matter if you’re dead.” He checked the springs and latches on the glider pack for the fifth time before stepping back.
Jacob hadn’t much noticed. He stood at the edge of the roof, some eight stories in the air. It was higher than the city walls th
ere on the roof. Of that, he was sure. But the view of Bollwerk, with its gray and bronze and stone patchwork, danced in the sunlight.
In the distance, the docks loomed, swarming like a nest of Sky Needles. The idea of helping build a monstrosity akin to the legendary docks of Bollwerk sent a surge of excitement through Jacob’s bones.
“Jacob, are you sure you wouldn’t prefer Frederick test this glider?” Archibald asked.
Jacob glanced back at the pair and smiled at the rather offended look on the old tinker’s face.
“No,” Jacob said. “I don’t think you’d want to deal with Theodosia after that, from what I’ve heard.”
“The boy’s right about that.”
Archibald cursed when Jacob hopped to the roof’s edge and leaped.
He heard a scream below, cutting through the wind howling in his ears. A young woman, pointing up, drawing a dozen eyes to his careening fall from the tower. A few seconds passed, and Jacob stretched his arms wide, waited for his body to stabilize in the wind, and threw the lever to open the glider.
Jacob remembered the thrill of leaping from the city walls, soaring over rooftops and steering between chimneys as Charles cheered him on from below. This felt different. This felt like he had more of a purpose, and people were depending on him. And if he failed …
The wings snapped taut, jerking his body hard enough he suspected he should have pulled the lever earlier. An impromptu load test at best, and risking a catastrophic failure at worst. But the rattle and squeak of the new bolts and joiners subsided in an instant, pressure spreading from his thighs to his chest as the glider held him aloft.
His brief analysis and realization that he wasn’t going to splatter on the cobblestones or go careening into one of the large glass windows on the busy street gave way to a burst of joy. He locked his hands into the braces on the steering levers, and dove.
Three floors vanished before he pulled back, and the updraft along the towers in Bollwerk lifted him almost as far as he’d fallen. It wasn’t that the new ratios for the steering levers were necessarily better than what Charles had built, but they felt smoother, natural, and there was less force required when Jacob alternated them, swooping left into an alleyway.
This was a test he wasn’t sure he was ready for. Small balconies and bay windows lined the narrow corridor. Jacob wove through them and around them, diving beneath a line of flags hung midway in the alley. He laughed with a furious joy he’d not felt since the times he’d spent in the workshop with Charles. The wingtip of the glider clipped a balcony, and Jacob’s flight stuttered, the wing compressing for a moment before the springs forced it tight once more.
Only ten feet above the ground at the end, Jacob caught another updraft, locking the levers forward so the wings billowed into something more akin to the parachutes they used for airship drops. He half ran and half slid to a stop.
Jacob grinned, his heart swelling with the mad joy of the glider. Nothing made him feel that way except Alice … oh, and how mad would she be if he’d crashed into the ground? If he’d died, she probably would have killed him again.
A faint shout came from above. “You’re mad, boy! Absolutely mad!”
Jacob waved to Frederick and started back into the tower. He figured Archibald and Frederick would meet him in the workshop and not wait for him to return to the roof. Jacob undid the locking mechanism and let the wings fold down.
Frederick had been right about redistributing the weight. Someone smaller and not as strong could easily carry the pack now. With enough of the gliders built, they could save countless lives. All Jacob had to do was leverage what Archibald needed into getting help building them.
Not unlike distracting someone while you picked their pocket, he thought with a wry smile.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Alice made her way back to the prison the next afternoon. She’d slept far later than she’d intended, but the bed at Mary’s parents’ house had been far too comfortable. If Samuel’s home had beds like that, she might have never left.
Eva was kind enough to introduce her to the guards and get her a guest pass. Apparently, anyone could visit the prisoners unsupervised, which was a difficult concept for Alice to understand. In Ancora, they would have been worried about people escaping or attacking visitors or any of a dozen scenarios they were warned about in school.
But walking into the prison in Belldorn was jarring. And it challenged everything Alice thought she knew about those who had done something wrong, versus people who were truly evil. In the two days she’d been there, not one fight had broken out, she’d not heard a single threat. The worst that had happened was some of the quieter prisoners ignored her entirely.
Alice glanced down at the small parcel of strawberries in her hands, suddenly feeling like it was a silly idea. She took a deep breath and knocked on the door to Furi’s room anyway. She wanted to talk to the girl and get more than the one-syllable answers she’d gotten yesterday. The silence that greeted her made her wonder if Furi had gone elsewhere, but a moment later, the door opened.
“You again,” Furi said flatly.
“Hi, yes, me again. I brought you some strawberries.”
“Some … what?”
That wasn’t the answer Alice had been expecting. “Umm, well, they’re a fruit here in the east. A delicacy in Ancora, but they’re everywhere in Belldorn.” Alice held up one of the ruby-colored pieces of fruit. She offered one to Furi.
Furi took it with hesitation. “It’s not poison?”
“Poison!” Alice said with a laugh. “Why would it be …” She trailed off, a horrible idea coming to her. “Does Ballern poison prisoners?”
Furi didn’t answer.
Alice took a strawberry and bit into it. Furi waited for her to chew and swallow before finally trying it herself.
“Wait!” Alice said. “Don’t eat the green part.”
“Poison?”
This time Alice laughed in earnest. “No, no poison, I promise. It just doesn’t taste good.”
Furi bit into the tip and chewed. She frowned a bit before her eyes lit up. “That’s really good.”
Alice offered the small basket. “Here. These are for you.”
“All of them?” Furi asked, accepting the wicker vessel.
“I can get more if you like. But I’d like to talk to you about some things, if that’s okay?”
Furi shrugged, and Alice thought that might be as close to a yes as she was going to get.
“Can I sit?”
Furi nodded and shuffled back to her bed.
Alice took the wooden chair, which turned out to be surprisingly comfortable. “You can dip those in sugar and they’re fantastic.”
“I’ll get some at dinner.” A brief smile crossed Furi’s lips before she tucked the basket into a drawer. The end table looked nicer than anything Alice’s family had back in Ancora. Alice gathered herself and dug in her backpack.
“I wanted to ask you about this.” Alice held up the copy of The Great Lie.
“Where did you get that?” Furi asked, reaching out for it. “They banned it a decade ago in Ballern.”
Alice frowned, confused. “Banned the book?”
Furi nodded. “They ban a lot of books in Ballern. But this one we learned about in school. It sparked a revolution against the Children of the Dark Fire and their Great Machines.”
“Do you know what the Great Machines are? And what about the Children of the Dark Fire?”
Furi shrugged. “The machines are a legend mostly, I think. The Children of the Dark Fire are disciples who live in Ballern and worship them like gods.”
Alice nodded. That was the impression she’d gotten from the book. She pulled another book out of her pack. Climate Theories and the Lost World was twice as thick as the book Furi now held. Alice flipped to the center and turned it toward Furi.
Furi cocked her head to the side when she saw the photograph inlaid in the binding. “That’s not a drawing.”
“No,
it’s a photograph. It’s captioned ‘Great Machine Alpha, Valley of the Roots.’ I couldn’t find the Valley of the Roots on a map, though.”
“You wouldn’t,” Furi said. “It’s a nickname the locals use. It’s in the middle of a forest. And a dangerous forest, at that. Things live in the trees there. Things that don’t like visitors.”
Alice remembered the Tree Killers in the Skeleton. If anything like that lived in the Valley of the Roots, she wasn’t sure she wanted to know about it. She still had visions of one of those creatures scything through Jacob’s leg, and the blood in the sand she thought she might never wash away.
“Do you …” Alice started, trying to phrase the question properly. “Do you know what happened before the Deadlands War? Why Ballern and Belldorn have fought for so long?”
Furi frowned at Alice. “Of course. Do you not? The godless people of Belldorn came to cleanse the lands of the righteous followers of … of …” Furi’s face fell.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m spewing their own words.” She looked down at the book in her hands, her face crumbling. “Oh gods, oh gods. You don’t understand. I don’t follow their teachings. I don’t even like the disciples of the Dark Fire. They’re awful, spiteful people. But when you asked me that, my answer was automatic, like they’d trained me as they would a circus beetle.”
Furi covered her mouth with her hand before yawning. “What do the people of Belldorn think happened? I never even … I never even wondered what they might have thought about it, Alice. I never believed everyone here could be evil like we were taught. But I never wondered what people here thought of Ballern.”
Someone cleared their throat behind Alice. Furi wiped at her eyes and composed herself in an instant.
“Mary?” Alice asked when she turned around.
“I can help answer that. If you don’t mind. My family has lived in Belldorn for generations. And then I need to talk to you, Alice. Smith and I need to make a run to Dauschen. For Jacob.”
