Noble Metals

by L. A. Witt

  At least it was a pleasant day so far. The sun was shining, glittering on the roads that had been left slick and muddy from yesterday’s rain. The air smelled of salt, mud, rain, and horses, not to mention smoke and exhaust from all the boats and ships moving in and out of the harbor. Perhaps the air wasn’t perfumed with wine and roses, but it was better than the chemicals of my father’s tanning shop. Considering I didn’t even have that option anymore, I was happy to take a few hours of breathing the pier-side salt and smoke.

  My chest was taut with excitement. Like thousands of other stampeders, my brothers and I had charged into Seattle after someone had sniffed out gold in the Klondike. We’d been among the first to arrive in the swampy logging town sitting in a strip of mud between a lake and Puget Sound, ready to sail and hike north to stake our claims.

  Had our provision money not wound up in the pocket of a gambler and the purses of a dozen whores, I’d have been up to the Yukon and back by now with more gold than any man needed.

  But at last, I was on my way. The journey would be grueling, and the fields may well have already been stripped bare of gold, but I’d happily dig through the frozen, barren tundra with my bare hands for a fool’s chance if it meant no longer whoring myself to men on their way to strike it rich.

  I took a deep breath of the stinking air and gazed at the crowd as I waited for John. Amongst the blur of faces and horses, movement caught my eye, and I turned.

  My spine crackled with nervous energy. I’d seen that trio before. That nervous energy turned to something colder—they were the three men from the saloon. The “colleagues of sorts” who’d made John nervous.

  They stood on the other side of the street, their heads inclined and torsos twisted toward each other in a conspiratorial manner.

  “No one is to know about this,” John had said within the walls of my room. “I don’t need them to know what kind of ‘immoral conduct’ I engage in.”

  Did that have something to do with these men in particular? I hadn’t made the connection then, when my heart had still been pounding with excitement because I was finally en route to the Yukon, but now I wondered. What kind of employer did he mean?

  It didn’t matter. He had my promise of discretion because he was the one who could get me out of this place. Whatever was between him and those men was none of my business. And it if was dangerous, well, traveling with a stranger who could be involved in something unsavory was no more dangerous than going to the Yukon in the first place.

  It was either go or stay here and bed men for money until another came along who was willing to hire me. I’d take my chances.

  The door swung open behind me, and John stepped out, the box in one hand and some papers in the other. “All right, everything is secure.” He nodded at the cart. “Let’s get that inside so they can load the mech. Then we—” He stopped abruptly, and I didn’t have to follow his gaze to know what had caught his eye. His leather glove creaked as he tightened his grasp on the box’s handle. Cursing under his breath, he gestured sharply inside. “Let’s go. Quickly.”

  I swallowed the questions that raced to the tip of my tongue and instead concentrated on helping him steer the cart into the outfitter’s building.

  The outfitters loaded the mech, since they knew how to ensure everything was balanced and secure with no wasted space or precarious stacks. While they arranged our provisions, John and I made our way down to the pier. At the edge of the dock, where our boots landed on wood instead of sloshing through mud, I bought my ticket.

  While John paid for his, I stared at mine, clutching it in both hands.

  This was it.

  I had my ticket.

  And I was going north.

  John talked like a lonely man. I wondered how long it had been since he’d engaged in comfortable conversation with someone willing to listen. Most people didn’t say much to me these days unless it was where to put my mouth or cock, so I was perfectly content to let him talk.

  We’d been on the boat for nearly a full day now and had settled into our quarters as the daylight faded. We shared a cramped room with another team, this one comprised of four men. John was loath to leave the tiny quarters for very long, and he refused to go anywhere without that locked box at his side, which only fanned the flame of my curiosity about its contents.

  He didn’t speak about the box or the men who’d made him nervous this morning. Instead, he regaled me with stories of life in Chicago. Since Seattle was the closest I’d ever been to a real city, I hung on his every word as he told me about factories, riverboats, and buildings as far as the eye could see, with cranes towering over them to erect even more buildings. Automobiles outnumbered horses, and there were machines that made mechs look like useless, primitive toys.

  The boat docked for the night near the mouth of Puget Sound, and it was the rumble of the engines and shouts of crewmen that roused me the next morning.

  As I stepped down from my bunk, John glanced at me over the top of a book. “Good morning.”

  “Morning.” I leaned against the bulkhead and rubbed my eyes. “Are we moving?”

  “Not yet. They’re taking on more passengers and cargo, but it sounds like we will be soon.”

  “Good. Sooner we move, sooner we’re off this thing.”

  He chuckled. “And the sooner we’re on the trail with winter coming. These may not be the finest accommodations a man could ask for, but I’d enjoy them while you can.”

  “Good point.” I glanced at the book in his hand. It wasn’t the tattered leather-bound journal he’d been writing in last night. “What’re you reading? Is that—” I tilted my head and read the embossed gold lettering on the book’s spine. “H.G. Wells?”

  “It is. You’re familiar with him?”

  I nodded. “I love him.”

  John’s eyebrows rose, as did one corner of his mouth. “Do you?”

  “Yes.” I craned my neck, eyeing his pack. “Did you bring any others?”

  “Just a handful. The outfitters thought I was a fool for adding extra weight.” He shrugged. “But I’d go mad if I didn’t have something to read.”

  “If you want to lighten what’s in your pack, I’ll carry a few under the condition you let me read them.”

  “You— Really?”

  “Yes, really.” I tried not to take offense, but it wasn’t easy. “I may be a whore, but I’m not simpleminded. I can read.”

  “I . . . oh, I didn’t mean to imply . . .” He shook his head. “My apologies. I simply hadn’t thought about it.” He dug through his pack and added, “Do you like science fiction?”

  “I love it. Someone left The Time Machine at the brothel a few months back. I’ve nearly memorized it.”

  He glanced at me, grinning like a child. “Have you? I loved that one. Have you read Jules Verne?”

  “Some. Journey to the Center of the Earth is one of my favorites.” I paused. “One of the girls loaned it to me. That and Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea.”

  “Interesting,” he murmured, still rummaging through his pack.

  “Even whores read, John.”

  “Well.” He withdrew a book and met my eyes. “Perhaps I have a lot to learn about those outside my own profession.” Before I could ask what profession that was, he handed me the book. “Since you’ve read Wells before, you might like this one.”

  I took it from him. “The Island of Doctor Moreau. I’ve not heard of this one.”

  “Do tell me how you like it.” He smiled. “I haven’t read it yet myself.”

  I returned the smile. “Thank you.”

  The boat left the dock not long after, and while we gnawed some beef jerky and read, it continued its journey toward the Inside Passage, which would take us to Ketchikan, Alaska.

  Holing up in our quarters and reading on our racks was fine for a while, but soon the seas got rough enough to make my stomach twist.

  Finally, I had to put the book down. Closing my eyes, I groaned and rubbed my temple
s.

  “You all right?”

  “I hope so.”

  “Seasick?”

  “I guess.” I leaned back against the bulkhead and swallowed hard.

  “This your first time at sea?” John asked with a sympathetic if slightly amused grimace.

  I nodded, clenching my teeth and swallowing hard.

  “Go outside,” John said. “Stay out on the decks and get some fresh air.” His brow furrowed with concern. “Can you make it out there on your own? I can give you a hand if—”

  “No, I’m fine.” I made a dismissive gesture. My eyes darted toward the box beside his foot. “Stay here. I’ll be fine on my own.”

  He pursed his lips, but then nodded and leaned back against the bulkhead. “If you’re gone too long, I’ll come after you to make sure you haven’t gone overboard.”

  I laughed. “Thanks.”

  John was right. The fresh air helped tremendously. Though the afternoon was cool, it wasn’t unpleasantly so, and I decided I’d enjoy the nice weather as much as I could before we were knee-deep in the north’s bitter cold. I found a spot on the crowded railing and folded my arms over it, letting the crisp, salty air rush across my face and through my hair.

  Alternately gazing out at the coast’s lush, green scenery and just closing my eyes and enjoying the breeze, I didn’t know how long I stood out there. An hour, maybe? Perhaps a little more? Much as I enjoyed John’s company and losing myself in a book, the lack of nausea was addictive. I wasn’t quite ready to go back down below decks to challenge my stomach again.

  Something rustled beside me. I moved over to offer some space and turned my head.

  I stiffened.

  The well-dressed man peered down his nose at me, scrutinizing me just like he’d scrutinized Ernest and Beatrice’s place while he’d looked around the other night. “You’re traveling with Dr. Fauth, no?”

  Doctor? I swallowed. “I . . . the man I’m traveling with? I only know his first name.”

  He scowled. “You don’t know who he is?”

  Something cold twisted in my gut. “Is there something I should know about him?”

  “Well, it isn’t wise to travel with a total stranger, now is it?” His tone dripped with condescension. “After all, you should be able to trust your team, shouldn’t you?”

  I gritted my teeth. “I trust him well enough.”

  “Good, good.” His lips pulled into a grin that made my stomach creep up my throat. “Someone in your . . . profession should be cautious of the company he keeps.”

  How do you know my profession? I didn’t think they’d even noticed me in the brothel, but . . .

  Then the man lowered his voice. “You really don’t know what kind of man he is, do you?”

  I gulped.

  His brow knitted together beneath the brim of his hat. “You should be more careful, son. You never know—”

  “What are you talking about?”

  He eyed me for a moment. Then he glanced around before dropping his voice to nearly a whisper, so I had to crane my neck to hear him over the other men and the steamboat’s engines. “Do you know what’s in the box?”

  I shook my head.

  He laughed dryly. “You’re traveling with a man who guards a locked box like a child guards a toy, and you don’t even know what’s in it?”

  Heat rushed into my cheeks. “It didn’t seem like it was any of my business.”

  “Well, it is my business. That box he’s carrying belongs to me.”

  I blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

  “It contains a device that Dr. Fauth has stolen from me.”

  They’re . . . colleagues of sorts.

  I shifted my weight. “Whatever is in that box is between you and him. I just need to get to Dawson City.”

  “I see. So you’re going with a man who couldn’t recruit a team in his own city before coming all the way to Seattle?”

  “He’s not the first man to come to Seattle alone.”

  “Yes, but perhaps you should consider why this man in particular came alone.” The sinister gleam in his eyes made my skin crawl. “And besides, you know there isn’t much gold left in—”

  “Everyone knows that.” I inched away from him. “I’ll take my chances.”

  “And if you could make more money on this boat than you likely will in the Klondike?”

  I rocked back and forth from my heels to the balls of my feet. “What are you talking about?”

  “Get me the device.” He reached into the inside pocket of his overcoat and withdrew a thicker wad of money than I’d ever seen. “And I’ll pay you.”

  “I’m . . .” My eyes flicked toward the money again. “I’m not a thief.”

  “Of course you’re not. But Dr. Fauth is. I’m not asking you to steal. I’m asking you to retrieve what’s mine.”

  I drew back a little more. My hip brushed the railing, and I shivered. “How do I know you’re not lying?”

  “How do you know he’s not?”

  He had a point. But I’d been working in a place where men played cards and drank. I’d seen how quickly disagreements over money and property could escalate, and I’d witnessed too many bloody brawls to think I had any business getting involved in this dispute. Whoever was lying, whoever was the thief, I could be a bad decision away from a bullet to the head.

  I took a deep breath and stood as straight as I could. “This is between you and him. I want nothing to do with it.”

  His dark eyes narrowed. “If you think there’s neutral ground in this, think again.” He tucked the bills back into his pocket, and then put a heavy hand on my shoulder, making my gut clench. “You be careful whose side you’re on.”

  And then he turned on his heel and walked away. I watched him go, and my knees wouldn’t stop shaking. I couldn’t forget his comment about someone in my profession. Was John really a thief? Was he dangerous? Was this man dangerous?

  Being outside may have helped with my seasickness, but I suddenly felt like a deer in wolf-infested woods.

  My shaking knees didn’t help me walk when the planks beneath my feet kept listing, but in spite of that, I hurried belowdecks. I followed the passageway back to where John and I were staying and threw open the door to our room. As soon as I was safely inside, I shut the door and leaned against it.

  “Robert?” John sat up on his rack. “What’s wrong? Are you all right?”

  I ran a hand through my hair. “I need to know, John. Those men who came into the bar the night we met, are—”

  “Did they bother you?” He tossed his book aside and leaped to his feet. “What did they say?”

  I cocked my head. “You’re not surprised they’re here.”

  He hesitated. “No. I’m not. I . . . I expected them to try to be on the same vessel. Didn’t think they’d bother you, though.”

  “It was just one of them.” I folded my arms across my chest, silently willing my heartbeat to come down. “He asked me about you. And a . . .” I let my gaze flick toward the half-covered box. “A ‘device.’”

  “What did you tell him?” The words were so frantic, I half expected John to grab me and shake me.

  I narrowed my eyes. “I didn’t tell them you were traveling with your own personal whore, if that’s what concerns you, though he’s obviously well aware of how I’ve made my living.”

  Lips parted, John blinked and took a half step back. “I . . . no, no, that . . . that wasn’t my concern.”

  “Well, that’s all I know about you,” I snapped. “So what else could I have told them?”

  He dropped his gaze. “I apologize, Robert. I didn’t mean to imply anything like that.”

  “Who are these men, John? I’d like to know before we get out on the open trail if I should be worried.”

  John swallowed hard. “I suppose I should have been more honest with you before we left.”

  Oh God. “About?”

  He gestured toward the rack where he’d been reading a moment ago
. I sat down, and he sat beside me. With his heel, he nudged the box a little farther under the rack, as if to make sure it was still in place. Then he rested his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands together.

  I took a breath. “Is it stolen, John?”

  “Stolen?” He laughed humorlessly. “Not yet, no.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means they”—he waved a hand toward the door—“want to steal it from me.”

  “Why? What is it?”

  John shook his head. “I can’t explain it. Not in these close confines.”

  I gritted my teeth. “I don’t know you any more than I know that man. If we’re going to travel together, I have to be able to trust you.”

  “I know. I know.” He raked a hand through his hair. “Listen, I can’t explain the device. Not here. Only that the men you saw are trying to obtain it for a rival of mine who wants to use it for his own gains.”

  I glanced at the edge of the box that still stuck out between his leg and mine. “And what gains would those be?”

  John started to speak but hesitated. “It doesn’t matter. However, I should have told you about these men sooner, and I apologize for that. If you’d . . .” He paused. “If you’d prefer to go on alone from Ketchikan or ride with another team, I’ll understand.”

  I chewed the inside of my cheek. True, this situation added an element of danger to our travels, but I couldn’t go it alone—the mechs required two men to maneuver them, and I couldn’t carry my provisions on my own—and thus far, I’d had no luck joining up with other teams. If I joined another in Ketchikan, I wouldn’t have the luxury of being choosy about my company. “No, I’d rather stay with you. Assuming I’m right in believing you’re not a thief or some kind of fugitive.”

  John laughed. “No, I’m certainly not.” His laughter faded. “But I can’t promise anything about those men.” He gestured up, as if to indicate my earlier encounter above decks. “My rival is desperate for this device. I don’t believe they’d harm us, but they aren’t going to give up easily either.”

  “But you can’t tell me what it is?” I eyed the box warily. “I mean, is it dangerous?”