Free-Wrench, no. 1

Home > Science > Free-Wrench, no. 1 > Page 14
Free-Wrench, no. 1 Page 14

by Joseph R. Lallo


  “This stuff is really something, huh? My brother makes it. Got a bit of a broken-glass front end. Maybe a poison-ivy finish?” He grimaced a bit and puffed on his cigar. “I used to have a bit of a drinking problem. That’s when my brother gave me this stuff. It was so awful I couldn’t stand a second swallow. I figured stocking nothing but a few bottles of this was a good way to avoid pickling myself. I do still soak my cigars in black-cherry brandy though. What can I say? A man needs a vice. Now go. Gather the crew. We’ll figure out what needs to be done.” He turned to his hammock. “I’ll have a word with the spy.”

  Chapter 13

  Nita stood at the prow of the airship, recovering from the past few hours of work, as the sun set two days later. It would have been nice to suggest that much of the preceding forty-eight hours had been spent sketching out a detailed and nuanced plan. Such was not the case. The entirety of their brilliant plan came in the form of the captain announcing, “We’ll drop down when we’re scheduled for repair, hit them fast, take anything it looks like they don’t want us to take, and if anyone tries to stop us, we’ll discourage that.” The rest of the time had been spent preparing the ship for the worst.

  For Coop and Lil, that meant scouring the ship and the local supply houses for all of the wood and envelope material they could get their hands on, first to repair and then to reinforce the gondola hull. They slopped a layer of tar onto the envelope to provide a measure of self-sealing, then stitched on an extra layer of material in the most vulnerable spots. Glinda had made a few trips to Keystone’s market district to stock up on medical supplies in expectation of casualties. The captain spent his time testing various repairs and literally keeping Wink on a short leash. Now that the little scoundrel’s secret had been discovered, it quickly became clear that he was far more intelligent than anyone had suspected. Whether it was out of genuine shame or simple self-preservation, the aye-aye had proved himself quite willing to render whatever aid he could.

  With the rest of the crew otherwise occupied, that left the most crucial aspect of the preparations to Nita and Gunner. Their time was entirely devoted to reconfiguring the boiler into something fully functional and adding in some other accessories. Gunner, after some initial reluctance, grew rather enthusiastic about the endeavor.

  “So this valve keeps the pressure from reaching the pipe you’re repairing, right? And this chamber builds the pressure?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, this boiler nonsense isn’t so hard after all. It is just heat and pressure. Not so different from a bomb, really. Just a bit slower.”

  “Once again, I wish you would stop comparing the boiler to something that is supposed to explode. Explosions are what we are trying to avoid.”

  “If I’m ever going to bridge my skills, I’ll need to start from some common ground.”

  “Just so long as you don’t start getting them confused,” Nita said. She applied a torch and some solder to a final permanent joint and stepped back. “Turn on that valve and let’s see how it holds.” He did so, and after a shudder and hiss failed to reveal any leaks, she brushed off her hands. “That’s everything.”

  The repairs had consumed almost every piece of the salvaged wailer, and they had repurposed many of the seemingly needless odds and ends that the fug folk had included. She looked over the pressure gauges.

  “It isn’t pretty, and we’re running a little lower on pressure than we were when it was purely as designed by the fug folk. Maybe two notches, but I’ll bet with a bit of tuning we can get that back. I’d also like to do some firmer connections down in the—”

  “If you stay on this ship long enough, you’ll learn that pursuing perfection does nothing but steal time from things that desperately need work. The policy of this ship is ‘Good enough is good enough.’ You try to do any better than that and—”

  The captain’s voice bellowed over the speaking tube: “Time is up. I’m seeing full pressure on the turbines. It is time to head out. Coop, Lil, lines in.”

  “You see? Now, mask on, and stay below deck.”

  The Wind Breaker shuddered and pulled away from the dock. Nita and Gunner moved out to the hall and found their way to the nearest porthole. It was strange, but listening to the turbines above hum with the healthy rhythm she’d heard when they first left filled her with a flash of pride. After only a few days, she’d come to feel rather protective of the little ship. It had already been responsible for the greatest adventure of her short life, though the next hour was likely to eclipse every danger that had come before.

  Captain Mack took the ship into a steep dive, plunging quickly down into the fug. It flushed through the ship, forcing itself through cracks between boards and belching through hatches and halls. A wave of purple fumes rushed over them, instantly stinging their eyes and chilling their skin. Nita looked closer to the porthole, her heart beginning to pound. There was nothing but darkness. Even after the dense surface of the fug was above them, there was nothing to see. The captain must have selected a route that would keep them far from any of their facilities and structures.

  “I’ve had to stay with the ship once or twice during repair runs,” Gunner said. “It’s a shortest-straw sort of situation. They only allow ships to come down for handing over goods, picking up goods, and getting repairs. All three are handled by the Fugtown Lower Docks, over on the other side of town. We’re not supposed to be here. There will be patrols.”

  “What happens if they see us?”

  “Then the shooting starts early.”

  “How does the captain plan to avoid them?”

  “The captain doesn’t plan. He just dives in.”

  She smirked. “I thought there was something about him that seemed familiar. I do the same thing.”

  “So I’ve noticed.”

  The thump of footsteps came from above, then Coop and Lil joined them in the hall. Lil was rubbing at her eyes.

  “Hoo-wee. I forgot how much that smarts. This is only the second time I been in the fug, you know,” she said. “Last time was back when Cap’n Mack rescued us.”

  She was still rubbing her eyes when she came upon Nita in the narrow hallway, bumping into her.

  “Sorry, I—” She looked up. Her face hardened a bit. “Oh, it’s you.”

  Aside from the initial gathering of the group to announce the plan, Lil and Nita had been kept apart by their duties, but even so it had been clear that she felt a good deal more betrayed than the rest. Gunner glanced up to see the tension between the two of them. He then turned to see Coop picking at his ear and generally being oblivious to the pregnant silence.

  “Coop,” Gunner said. “Maybe you and I should go down to the gig room.”

  “What for?” he asked, digging a little deeper and rolling his eyes in something between ecstasy and irritation.

  “Just come with me, you oaf,” Gunner said, snagging his arm.

  The two men vanished down the hall. Lil crossed her arms.

  “You gonna apologize?” she asked.

  “Will it do any good?” Nita replied.

  “Worth a shot.”

  “I wasn’t thinking about you or anyone else. I just wanted to do what I could to save my mother, and I ended up doing something foolish, disrespectful, and wrong.”

  “And you did it on my watch.”

  “Yes. I’m sorry for all of it. I don’t know if it is forgivable, and frankly I won’t dare expect you to forgive me. We’ve got a big job to do right now, though, and so if you can’t accept my apology, perhaps we can at least call a truce.”

  Nita held out her hand. Lil looked at it thoughtfully, then knocked it aside. “Aw heck. Truces and handshakes are for politicians and such. Come here.” She threw her arms around Nita and gave her a hug, thumping her on the back before stepping away. “You did something stupid that you thought you’d get away with. I of all people can’t fault you for that. And the way I figure it, no matter how low he busts me, I was already at the bottom of the ladder before you
showed up, and he’s gonna have to bust you lower, so we’re back where we left off. I ain’t got time to stay mad anyway. We got a job to do that could kill us. I’d hate to go to my grave holding a grudge. So I’ll forgive you, but on two conditions.”

  “What are they?”

  “First, you gotta let me try that dress on.”

  Nita smiled. “Tough but fair.”

  “And second, don’t you go doing something stupid like that again.”

  “Of course not. We’ve got a much stupider situation to deal with.”

  “You’re darn right, so let’s get to it.”

  #

  The Wind Breaker drifted low to the ground, nearly brushing the tops of the buildings that made up the sprawling and deserted cityscape. This far from the active part of the city there were no lamps to light the way. Captain Mack was forced to navigate by the dim glow of two large phlo-lights built into the prow. Combined with the low visibility, it was more a matter of luck than skill that they hadn’t been dragged across the spire of a particularly tall building, but not a whisper of concern showed on his face. The captain stood firm at the helm, the wind rustling his hair. Wink languished at the end of a short length of rope. He wore a hastily fashioned harness and had his eye trained on the darkness ahead. As a creature of the fug, he breathed well enough in the stuff. Even with only one eye, his vision was sharper than any other crewmember in the darkness, to say nothing of his hearing.

  “You let me know the instant you see or hear something besides the wind, you understand?” Captain Mack said.

  Tap.

  “Good. You see us through this, and you just might still have a place in this crew.”

  Wink twitched his batlike ears and angled them, then drummed his claws and pointed. The captain squinted. Just barely visible in the indicated direction glowed similar ship lights. He leaned low and spoke into the communication tube.

  “We’re getting close. If you aren’t in the gig room, get there. I’m going to drop you off due south of the warehouse district. When you’ve got as much as you’re going to get, send up one of the flares. I’ll bring the Wind Breaker in and we’ll hightail it, but be ready to load in a hurry. Glinda and the traitor will stay with me to man the ship.”

  “How do we know we’re almost there, Cap’n?” came Coop’s voice. “I can’t hardly see anything.”

  “You’ll see it in a minute, if you keep your eyes starboard. Our inspector spotted a patrol. I don’t reckon they’d waste their time on any old corner of the city. Time to get their attention. Brace yourselves. This’ll be rough.”

  The captain removed the linking bars for the various control levers and began to push them apart. The turbines groaned against their mountings and twisted the ship into an odd, diagonal drift. One of the turbines started to bind, producing a terrible whining noise. He eased the misaligned throttle just a bit to cut the sound off, but it had done its job. The patrol was on its way.

  Unlike the patchwork and much abused Wind Breaker, the patrol ship was sleek and pristine as it emerged from the darkness. A grid of green lights was affixed to each side of its prow, and a line of fléchette guns and grapplers similar to those used by the wailers was mounted to the forward railing. The only thing the Wind Breaker had on it was size, as the craft was barely a third as large and manned by only three people.

  “Attention!” announced one of the crewmembers, bellowing through a megaphone. “This section of Fugtown is restricted. If you have business here, be prepared to present your authorization. Otherwise return to the docks.”

  “Oh, I’ve got business all right,” Captain Mack called out as best as he could through his mask. “I’m supposed to be getting this crate repaired. Only problem is, the damn thing started to drift on me. Got way off course. I’d be glad to take a tow, if you’re offering.”

  “If you are in distress, why didn’t you sound your distress whistle?”

  “Been busted for even longer than the turbines.”

  The crew of the patrol ship conferred. Captain Mack didn’t show a flicker of concern. The same could not be said for Wink. From the moment the fug folk had come into view he had been trying to hide behind the captain. After a brief discussion, one crewman manned a grappler, and another stepped to a gun.

  “There is a courtyard a quarter of a mile east of here. Guide your ship there, power down, and drop anchor. Once we confirm that you are immobile, we will leave a man with you and send for a dedicated tow ship. In the future, report for repair before your ship is so severely disabled.”

  “I’ll do my best, but finances are none too obliging.” He leaned low and spoke as quietly as was reasonable into the speaking tube. “When the anchor drops, so do you. The dragging anchor should cover your noise.”

  #

  Above, the captain maneuvered his ship with apparent difficulty into the courtyard. The portion of the crew representing the away team watched through the open personnel hatch as the dimly lit ground slid by. Each crewmember was loaded down with whatever equipment they felt they might need, along with as many empty sacks as they could carry, and they’d tied additional equipment into bundles and chained it along the length of a rope.

  Captain Mack angled the ship such that the hatch was in shadow, giving them the maximum cover but minimum visibility. He then lowered the ship dangerously close to the ground and prepared the seldom-used anchor.

  “We go one at a time. Standard land evacuation methods.”

  “Wait. I don’t know the standard land evacuation methods,” Nita said.

  “He just means jump. And try to roll when you hit the ground,” Coop said. “Hope it doesn’t bust my stitches.”

  “This sounds like the sort of thing I should have practiced,” Nita said.

  “No time like the present!” Lil said. The frightening sound of the anchor dropping onto the cobblestone of the courtyard rang out. “Follow my lead, and make sure you don’t lose your mask!”

  Lil braced her mask to her face with one hand and dropped through the hatch, plummeting five or six feet. She landed feet first, pitching forward into a shoulder roll and ending up on her feet and running. Coop kicked the bundles of equipment out, then followed them. He didn’t have quite the same level of grace, but he nonetheless landed without a scratch. Next, it was Nita’s turn. She held her mask tight and jumped.

  Coop and Lil had made it look easy, but it wasn’t until she was in the air that Nita realized if there was a knack to it, she hadn’t worked it out. She hit the ground hard, tipping forward into more of a tumble than a roll. When she finally slid to a stop she was a bit bruised, a few of her tools went clattering across the ground, and her ankle made a worrying crack, but she was still in one piece.

  Lil made her way to Nita at a low run, helping her to her feet and gathering her lost tools. The three of them snagged the fallen equipment bundle.

  Gunner opted for a different exit, dangling down from the edge by his hands to shorten his fall. His plan was somewhat foiled when the anchor finally bit into the courtyard, causing a sudden and violent end to the Wind Breaker’s drift and dislodging him before he was ready. He fell to the ground and landed hard on his back. Despite only falling a few feet, he seemed utterly shocked.

  “You okay, Gunner?” Lil whispered as she and Nita helped him to his feet.

  “Easy, easy,” he said insistently.

  “Oh, calm down. It was barely a fall. I jumped twice as far as you, and you don’t see me getting all twitchy.”

  “But you aren’t strapped with firearms and explosives.”

  “Good point.”

  “Quit fooling around back there,” Coop said. “Let’s get moving before they notice us down here.”

  The group moved as swiftly and silently as they could, heading due north. Once they were out of the dim halo of light cast by the ships, they found themselves stumbling in inky blackness. Only the remote glow of a second ship far in the distance broke up the tapestry of midnight purple around them. The he
avy, dense fumes seemed to deaden sound as well, swiftly muting the noise of the ships and leaving them with nothing but their own footsteps and labored breaths. When she felt they were far enough to escape notice, Nita pulled her trusty gas lamp from her belt and sparked it to life. The group huddled around the circle of light.

  “Who’s got the compass?” she asked.

  “Right here,” Coop said. He pulled it out. “We’re headed in the right direction.”

  “Are we sure? I can’t see anything. This place is pitch black. I don’t know how he could possibly navigate down here.”

  “Trust me when I tell you, the cap’n could make the whole trip to Caldera and back with his eyes closed. He wouldn’t be the cap’n otherwise.”

  “Well, let’s keep moving north then,” Nita said. “Everyone keep your eyes peeled for something it looks like they don’t want us to break into.”

  #

  “I thought that anchor would never dig in,” Captain Mack called out, regaining his footing after the sudden stop.

  “Stand clear,” the patrolman ordered. “We will send over two grapplers. Secure them and I will send a chaperone aboard.”

  The patrolman manning the grappling-hook launcher fired off a hook, then loaded and fired another. Captain Mack made sure they were hooked onto something sturdy, and the patrol ship winched out the slack and hauled the gondolas close enough to bridge the gap with a gangplank. One of the scrawny men scurried across. He was dressed similarly to the others in a gray vaguely military uniform, including a long jacket and a cap with a short brim. Armed with a long rifle, he held it at the ready, as though he were venturing into enemy territory. Mack offered him a hand to help him down to the deck, but the patrolman sneered at it with smug disdain.

  “We shall return with a tow. There will of course be a fee involved,” the superior officer announced from the patrol ship as he pulled back the gangplank and his subordinate aboard the Wind Breaker unhooked the grapplers.

 

‹ Prev