by Pelaam
“’E’ll ‘ave you flogged fer that.” The crewman spluttered, his eyes wide.
“Not if he wants those automatons in working order, he won’t.” Nicolas shrugged. “I can do it. They’ll be as good as they ever were. If I get the help I need. Do please pass on my message. Good day.”
As smartly as he’d marched toward the crewman, Nicolas strode away. Once out of sight, Nicolas exhaled deeply, his body relaxing temporarily, and then hurried back to his workshop. He needed to make the last adjustments necessary to withstand the onslaught of Melbeck’s temper, which he knew was to come.
Several minutes later, Nicolas wasn’t surprised when his workshop door slammed open and a puce-faced Melbeck stomped in. Fully expecting such an angry entrance, Nicolas slowly looked up from his workbench, and lifted his goggles, keeping his face schooled into a deliberate expression of boredom.
“Oh, good. You’ve come.” Nicolas didn’t bother to stand. If the situation wasn’t so serious, the purple hue of Melbeck’s face would have made him smile.
“You dare to summon me?” Melbeck’s voice was barely above a hiss, but there was no mistaking his fury.
“Well, I did try to come to you, but your lackey refused to let me in. I didn’t want to waste time, or my breath, debating with the likes of him, so I came back here to get on with my work. I am having some excellent results.” Nicolas shrugged. “But it’s slow going since I’m working alone. I really do need an assistant. I managed this.” Turning slightly, keeping his hands hidden from Melbeck’s sight, Nicolas made a gesture with a couple of his fingers and Rusty moved a couple of steps forward.
“That thing’s not worked for months. It’s moving again. And the others?” Melbeck’s anger evaporated in the heat of his obvious excitement to have the mechanicals at his disposal once more.
“It’s not so simple.” Nicolas gesticulated at the others. “I had no idea they were so badly misused. I believe I can get them moving. Quite probably fully operational, but I must have help. An assistant. One with a delicacy of touch that your common crewmen don’t possess.”
“This looks fine. Get the others like this.” Melbeck pointed at Rusty, but even as he did, the light in the automaton’s eyes went out and it wheezed into a slump-shouldered pose.
“I need the insides cleaned far more scrupulously than I can manage alone. That was an example of what I can do. All I’m asking for is help. It doesn’t have to be all day. Just a few hours, enough that while they are doing one thing with the mechanical, I can focus on another.”
“I don’t have men I can just have sitting on their asses all day.” Melbeck’s anger was back, but even as he snarled the words, Nicolas held up his hand.
“Nathan would be an ideal candidate. He helped me with this when he brought me some food. Imagine what we could do if we spent the rest of the trip working together.” Nicolas infused as much excitement as he dared into his expression. He didn’t want to overdo things. No matter what else Melbeck might be, he was not a fool.
Melbeck’s brows drew together and his eyes narrowed, but Nicolas pretended not to notice as he fussed over Rusty. Another hidden gesture ensured its eyes lit up and it stood upright once more.
“I’m so close with this one, but there’s something in here I need sorting out as I deal with this.” Making a show of appearing to be listening to Rusty’s chest, Nicolas tapped the side of its head.
“Perhaps I can assist.” Melbeck strode forward to Nicolas’s side, and Nicolas shoved a spanner into his hand.
“Unscrew there.” Nicolas pointed where he needed, and then edged a little behind Rusty. At Melbeck’s touch, sparks flew up, along with a hiss of steam and smoke.
The spanner dropped to the floor as Melbeck backpedaled sharply, and Nicolas tsked loudly.
“Sorry about that. I did say delicacy was needed. Are you all right, Captain?” Nicolas peered around Rusty at a pale-faced Melbeck, who coughed and squared his shoulders.
“I’m perfectly fine.” Melbeck patted at his jacket, as if checking no sparks had set him alight. “Very well. You shall have Nathan, if he proves to be useful. He still needs to tend the gardens and assist the ship’s cook. The conservatory is important to the ship.”
“Of course. Thank you, Captain.” Nicolas waited until Melbeck left the room before laughing out loud. “Well done, my friend.” He patted Rusty’s chest. “That hiss of steam was just perfect. You’ll like Nathan. He has a gentle touch.”
The automaton flickered briefly to life, surprising Nicolas, then its eyelights dimmed once more. Nicolas stared at Rusty for a moment. People said these creations, ones made of metal, wires, and oil were devoid of life. But Nicolas didn’t entirely agree. There was always a spark, even in those where he didn’t employ tinker’s magyck. You just had to look.
And believe.
Chapter Fifteen
The next couple of days were almost idyllic for Nicolas. Nathan worked with him for a couple of hours during the day and at night slept in his arms. Nicolas could scarcely wait for the ship to reach its destination. He may not be able to alert the authorities about the children until too late, but Nicolas fully intended to reveal the truth of Melbeck’s so-called munificence.
While Nicolas and Nathan occasionally ate in the workroom, Nathan had felt it better for them to still regularly appear in the mess hall, Nicolas to eat, and Nathan carrying out his normal duties.
Nicolas walked slowly ahead of his most recently repaired automaton. It wasn’t Rusty or Patch. Although they functioned even better than this or the other mechanical Nicolas had already returned to the engine room, he was loathe to send them back there.
Not that his workroom was any less crowded. He’d be collecting another automaton to take back from the engine room on his return. Melbeck was certainly ensuring that he got his money’s worth out of Nicolas.
The moment the door to the engine room opened, Nicolas was hit by a wall of heat. By the time he’d walked the mechanical back into line, sweat was running down his temple onto his cheek, and his shirt stuck uncomfortably to his body.
“Take that one.” A big brute of a man, shirtless, his corpulent body glistening with sweat, pointed at an automaton that worked at a much slower rate than its compatriots. Scorch marks marred its face and Nicolas gave a silent sigh.
With a nod, Nicolas walked over to it. “Leave the shovel here and follow me.”
The mechanical gave no indication it had heard, then slowly it dropped the shovel to the floor. Nicolas sighed. “Come.” Nicolas turned to walk back to the stairs, then tripped, sprawling heavily amidst dust and dirt.
The raucous laugher made him certain it had been no accident, but as he was outnumbered it was better not to make an accusation.
“Hope you fix them machines better than what you walk.” A coarse voice yelled out and the engineers all burst out laughing again.
“You’ll know soon enough.” Nicolas muttered under his breath as he rose to his feet.
“Yer a bit dusty, foozler.” Another voice rang out amidst more loud laughter, but Nicolas opted to ignore the insult.
Without a backward glance, Nicolas made his way upstairs, the automaton a few steps behind him. Absorbed in his own thoughts, Nicolas didn’t hear anything until it was almost too late.
As he was about to pass one of the sets of stairs leading down into the ship’s bowels, a sound broke into Nicolas’s consciousness, a strange shuffle-click, followed by a feeling of danger. Not a moment too soon. Something hard and unyielding struck Nicolas’s shin, sending him stumbling toward the stairs.
With a desperate twist, Nicolas managed to grab the handrail as he fell the first few steps, stopping himself from pitching the rest of the way headfirst down the iron stairway. A malevolent hiss of anger sounded above him, and Nicolas tried to see his attacker.
A small, twisted shadow, that instantly brought the notion of a hobgoblin to Nicolas’s mind, was all he glimpsed, and Nicolas shuddered. At a sudden wheeze, which N
icolas recognized as the mechanical, the shadow vanished. Waiting a second or two, his body shaking, Nicolas made his way cautiously back up the stairs.
Prepared to duck as needed, Nicolas cautiously peered around the doorway, checking up and down the passageway. Other than the now still mechanical, there was nothing and no one in sight.
Now he knew he was safe, Nicolas sat at the top of the stairs, waiting for his body to stop shaking before rising slowly to his feet. Nicolas patted the automaton’s chest.
“I wish you could speak, Scorch. Perhaps you saw … something.” Nicolas couldn’t prevent another shudder. No man would have a shadow like he saw, but whatever had tripped him had been solid enough. “A ghost would not use something physical. I’m sure of that.” Nicolas took a steadying breath and decided to go back to his workroom via the dining hall. “A hot, sweet tea will do the trick. Follow me.”
With the automaton in tow, Nicolas headed to the dining hall. Leaving the mechanical outside, Nicolas went to the servery. The cook watched him every step of the way, then eyed him, with deliberate slowness, from head to foot, and a malicious smirk curved his lips.
“Take a tumble did we, sir?”
“How very observant of you.” Nicolas kept his tone deliberately light, and the cook’s smile faded slightly. “I want a mug of tea. I take it that there is some left?”
It was mid-morning tea time, and a couple of men sat with their brews, gnawing on the hard biscuit provided.
“Of course, sir.” The cook poured a mugful from the brass tea urn, wafting at the steam that hissed out. “Sugar’s over there if you want it.”
“Thank you.” Nicolas took the battered and chipped enamel mug and added several teaspoons of sugar to the murky depths.
Aware of the curious gazes following him as he crossed the floor, Nicolas kept his head high. He didn’t want anyone reporting back to the crewmen in the engine room that he’d been affected by their antics. If they thought they’d struck a nerve with him, the bullying would continue. Or worsen.
Just before he reached the door, Nicolas was almost bowled over by Nathan. Before Nicolas could speak, he felt something pressed into his free hand, and closed his fingers around a piece of paper.
“So sorry, Mr. Broadberry. I’m in a bit of a rush at the moment. Good morning, sir.” Nathan hurried on, a basket over his arm, over to the servery.
Not wanting to draw undue attention, Nicolas kept his fist closed around whatever Nathan had given him and continued out. A command to the automation and Nicolas hurried back to his room.
Once the door was locked behind him, Nicolas read Nathan’s note. It read ‘Meet me in conservatory, after lunch.’ That Nathan felt the need not to be seen talking to him sent a cold shard of fear scraping down Nicolas’s spine.
There was nothing Nicolas could do except wait.
****
Although his stomach threatened to rebel against the food, Nicolas ate. He’d made sure to be in the dining hall at lunchtime. While Nathan bustled back and forth, Nicolas stoically kept his eyes on his food and didn’t even glance at Nathan for fear of someone thinking he paid the younger man undue attention.
Finally, his meal finished, Nicolas made his way to the conservatory. He resisted the urge to rush, keeping to a deliberately slow amble, but his heart hammered as if he’d run a race. Finally, Nicolas was within sight of the conservatory, but instead of going in, he stopped.
Reaching into a pocket, Nicolas pulled out his pocket watch and pretended to study it. Instead he strained his hearing. A moment earlier, he was certain he’d heard the same shuffle-click as earlier that day.
Relieved he was nowhere near a stairwell, Nicolas clicked his tongue and then took off at speed as if realizing he was late. Only when he’d put some distance between himself and the conservatory did Nicolas slow and turn around.
No one was following, but Nicolas took far more care returning to the conservatory, making sure to watch and listen, ready to act if necessary. Nothing seemed amiss. Nicolas didn’t see or hear anything as he got closer. But, for his own peace of mind, Nicolas still walked past, checking no one was hiding in a recess before going back.
Satisfied, Nicolas opened the door and looked around. For a moment, he couldn’t see Nathan, then his lover stood and waved. Nathan had clearly been busy.
Several additional pots of shrubs had been moved to create a slightly larger space by the tall tree he favored, so they would be both comfortable, and remain unseen by anyone just looking around from the doorway. Nicolas was more than half convinced that they’d be unseen even at close quarters.
More worry for Nicolas was how pale Nathan’s face was, and his expression was anxious. Nicolas broke into a run to reach him and hurriedly clambered through the plants to settle on his knees facing Nathan.
Without a word, Nathan threw his arms around Nicolas who gave himself to his lover’s tight embrace.
“Oh, Nicolas. I heard … I heard something so … so horrible.” Nathan buried his face into Nicolas’s shoulder, clinging tightly to him.
“It’s all right, my love. Calm down. What did you hear?” Nicolas whispered soothingly as he stroked a hand down Nathan’s spine, hoping to offer some comfort.
“Melbeck. I heard him say you won’t be making the journey back to Earth. That he was planning for you to have an … an accident. A fatal accident.”
Murder. Nicolas couldn’t even say the word out loud, but what else could it be? Nicolas knew Melbeck didn’t like him, but what reason could the man possibly have to want him dead?
“Are you sure?” Nicolas swallowed around a dry mouth to whisper directly into Nathan’s ear. His lover nodded against Nicolas’s shoulder.
“Melbeck didn’t see me. He thought he was alone. Well, I don’t know that he was alone.” Nathan pulled back, his brows drawn together, and then shook his head. “At least, I didn’t see anyone with Melbeck. But he acted as if he was speaking to someone. When my brace made a noise, I acted as if I’d just turned the corner, greeting him as I do when he’s on his own. He seemed to not be bothered at all.”
“I wasn’t going to tell you this, but I had an accident of sorts earlier today. Someone, or something, tripped me near a stairwell. I wasn’t hurt, but I almost fell down the stairs.”
“Oh, Nicolas.” Nathan’s eyes went wide. “Are you sure you weren’t hurt?” Nathan ran his fingertips down Nicolas’s cheek, his concern almost palpable.
Nicolas caught hold of Nathan’s hand, and kissed each fingertip in turn. “You know, there are times I feel…” Nicolas sighed. “I don’t know how I can explain it. When I meet people, or just get close enough to some, I get a … a feeling about them. It doesn’t happen with everyone, thankfully. I might be overwhelmed if I did. I didn’t feel Melbeck was a man to trust, any more than I did my uncle. But aboard this ship, I feel a … a malevolence. Something very dark, very dangerous. Yet I’ve never felt it when in the presence of a crewman.”
“I thought the ship was haunted.” Nathan dropped his voice to a tiny whisper. “It was as though I was being watched, yet if I looked around, I saw nothing. I still get that feeling. Even after all these months. I thought perhaps it was the spirit of a child who died.”
“What happens when the children are sent from Strawberry to the space station?”
“I don’t know.” Nathan shook his head. “I’m confined to my quarters for a couple of days when we dock. I guess that must be when they’re transferred. Once I’m permitted to move around the ship again, they’re all gone.”
“Then we have to act before the ship docks at the space station. The images I saw of the docking areas are vastly different to those you describe.”
“There are the travelers’ docking facilities on what’s dubbed the light side of the station. They’re designed to rival, and even better, any railway station on Earth. But those on the dark side, those docks are meaner than the worst on Earth. At least that’s what Melbeck always told me.”
�
��Sounds about right.” Nicolas nodded. “You have your visitors come in through your front door, which is always made to look beautiful and inviting, but you send tradesmen around to the back.”
“What can we do? How can we get you off the ship safely?” Nathan clutched tightly to Nicolas.
“We can’t. We have to face them, not run away, my love.”
“But … how? How can just you and I pit ourselves against Melbeck and his men?”
“But there isn’t just the two of us. We have the automatons.” Nicolas smiled, a germ of an idea taking root in his mind.
“They can’t help us. They’re only programmed to stoke the furnaces.”
“Yes, they are. But I have skills as a tinker. I can make them more than mere stokers. There are half a dozen mechanicals in my workroom that I can make partially, if not fully, operational, as well as the other half dozen in the engine room. Once the men in the engine room are incapacitated, there are only a few other men aboard this ship. Isn’t that so?”
“Yes. In the galley and looking after the children.” Nathan nodded eagerly. “Melbeck also keeps a couple of men around him. He calls them his first mate, and chief of security. I think they’re more his personal bodyguards.”
“Then you and I must work very quickly, my love.” Nicolas grasped Nathan’s hands and squeezed firmly. “We must finish the automatons I have in my workroom, so they are working well enough to replace those in the engine room. With your help, I can do it.”
“Anything, Nicolas. I’ll do anything I can to help you.”
“Then all will be fine.” Releasing one of Nathan’s hands, Nicolas cupped the back of his lover’s head, drew him close, and kissed him tenderly. “With you at my side, we can achieve anything.”
“You make me believe it is so.” Nathan smiled then rubbed his cheek against Nicolas’s. “I must go to the galley. I purposely forgot some herbs, so I’d have an excuse to return here. I mustn’t stay too long.”
