“Th… there,” he stammered, pointing out the nearest window. River looked out, and realized that Micah had discovered some sort of deepwater sea life. Superficially, the creature resembled an eel, but it was easily twelve feet long and it cast an eerie yellow-green glow that seemed to emanate from its skin. The rest of the crew gathered round, some gasping in fear, others tapping the glass, trying to attract the creature’s attention.
“Don’t do that,” said River. “We don’t want that thing trying to break the glass.”
“What is it?” Micah said.
“An eel perhaps,” said Thane. “Or a snake.”
“Too big,” said Vann. “That’s a hundred times bigger than any eel I’ve ever seen.”
“And it glows,” someone else observed. “What manner of creature glows?”
“It must be starfall,” said Micah. “Starfall glows like that.”
“That is possible,” River agreed. “We all know how starfall changed our ancestors. It turned humans into Tal’mar and Vangars and halflings. It may have done the same thing with the creatures in the Forgotten Sea.”
“Does that mean there is starfall in this water?” said Micah. “Maybe Socrates can extract it, like he did from the well in Blackstone!”
“One thing at a time,” River said. “First, we need to find a way to communicate with him. Then maybe we can get the train rolling again.”
“I don’t like it down here,” Micah grumbled.
“You’re not the only one,” Thane said. Shayla was on the verge of tears. The bard put his arm over her shoulders comfortingly. He gave River a pleading look. “Is there nothing we can do?”
All eyes turned to River, and she had the sudden uncomfortable realization that they were all expecting her to do something. They expected her to save them. How had it become her responsibility to take care of them all? River glanced at a nearby crewman. He was a Tal’mar man: like all his kind, he was thinner, smaller and more lightly built than a human, but possessing sharp senses and superior battle skills. There were nine Tal’mar on the train in total. So far, they seemed to be handling the situation better than the others, which was surprising, since by nature they were forest-dwellers with an intense distrust of technology.
This was a new generation of Tal’mar though, and they were different from their parents. They had joined the crew of the Iron Horse to learn new ways, and to explore. They were trying to overcome the fears and biases of their ancestors.
“We are going to find a way out of here,” River said, trying to sound more optimistic than she felt. “I’m going to go find a way to communicate with Socrates. In the meantime, I want every one to stay here in the dining car and remain calm.”
“Easier said than done,” Thane observed dryly. Shayla, still in his arms, was looking rather pale, as were several of the others.
“Absinthe,” River said, nodding at the bartender. “One shot for Shayla, Micah, and the others who need to calm down. One shot only. Do you understand? The last thing we need is the whole crew three sheets to the wind at a time like this.”
Vann nodded. He reached under the bar and produced a crystal bottle of the light green spirit. “One shot, on the house,” he announced. “Who’s first?”
River left the dining car and headed for the front of the train with Pirate fast on her heels. Darkness closed in around her as soon as she left the room. River found herself wishing she had her mother’s vision, or any Tal’mar’s for that matter. She wasn’t sure how much good it would do, though. River had heard that Tal’mar night vision was based on the ability to see heat signatures. There weren’t many of those at the bottom of the sea.
She collected a lantern hanging on the wall, lit it with a match, and then hurried on her way. A few minutes later, she reached the front of the train. River couldn’t see Socrates in the blackness outside, or anything else for that matter. The Iron Horse’s windows had turned into mirrors. River turned her lantern way down. Gradually, her eyes adjusted until she could make out the dim glow of the locomotive’s furnace up ahead. Socrates was a dark silhouette, moving around in the cab.
River searched her mind, trying to come up with a means of communicating with Socrates. She considered running a new communication pipe through the water, but dismissed it as impossible when she realized there was no way to do so without flooding the car. She had also come up with an improbable idea of building some sort of pressurized helmet that would allow her to leave the train, but that would take days to design and build, and she wasn’t even sure it was possible.
So River stood at the front of the car, staring helplessly across the empty space, praying for just one good idea. Pirate brushed up against her leg and River lifted him to her breast. He was warm and soft, and he nuzzled into her neck and began to purr contentedly. River settled onto one of the benches and held him that way for a while as she struggled vainly to find a solution to her problem.
Eventually, Pirate fell asleep in her arms. He went limp and his purring died away, replaced by the deep steady rhythm of his breathing. That was when the room finally became quiet enough for River to hear the low, distant ping of metal against metal.
She frowned and tilted her head, trying to locate the source of the noise. A few seconds later, it came again. River very gently set Pirate on the bench and rose to her feet. She turned slowly. At first, the noise had seemed random, but the longer she listened, the more convinced River became that there was a repeating pattern:
Ping… ping, ping! Ping… ping, ping!
Her eyes widened, and she stepped closer to the port side wall. The noise became slightly louder. River bent over, pressing her ear close to the pipes. She ran a finger along each, trying to isolate the culprit. At last, when her finger fell on the lowest pipe that ran just a few inches above the floor, she felt the vibrations tingling across her fingertips.
River followed the pipe with her eyes and realized it led outside, in the direction of the locomotive. She rapped on it with her knuckle three times. Instantly, the pattern repeated. River jumped to her feet and saw Socrates waving at her.
“I understand!” she said. “Give me a minute!”
River flew back down the darkened corridors. She entered the dining car at full tilt. She was gone in a flash, leaving the crew blinking at each other with confused glances. A minute later, River reached the machine room. She snatched up a small wrench and a hacksaw, and went racing back down the hallway. Micah appeared out of nowhere, and she nearly plowed over the top of him in her haste.
River careened against the wall. She held the saw blade out at arm’s length, trying hard to avoid slicing Micah open and equally hard not to accidently gut herself. As she hit the wall and regained her balance, Pirate appeared. The animal hissed loudly and leapt onto Micah’s head.
“Gah!” the halfling screamed, stumbling backwards, arms waving wildly in the air. “Get it off! Get it off!”
“Pirate!” River shouted in horror. “Let him go!”
She dropped the saw, grabbed the creature with both hands, and tried to lift Pirate off Micah’s head. Pirate responded by digging his claws deeper into the poor halfling’s skull. Micah screamed, and River realized she’d better try a different tactic.
“Calm down,” she said quietly, stroking Pirate along the back. “Good Pirate. Well done.”
“Well done?” Micah yelled. “It’s killing me!”
“Quiet,” River said sternly. “And stand still, or I’ll never get him off.”
She whispered soothing, cooing words as she stroked the creature’s fur. A few seconds passed without any change. River decided to try something else.
“Rum?” she said.
Pirate’s head swung around. The merchant had told her that rum was occasionally used as a reward for raccoons during training, and after performing particularly difficult tasks. Pirate’s response was instant. The coon released Micah and leapt happily onto River’s shoulder. Micah reached for the wounds on his head and River cri
nged as she saw a trickle of blood running down his forehead.
“Sorry, Micah. You shouldn’t have snuck up on me like that. You frightened him.”
“I frightened him?” Micah said indignantly. “I was just trying to help you! That thing is-”
Pirate growled. Micah abandoned his sentence.
“I’m sorry,” River said again. “It won’t happen again. I have to go.”
She bent to retrieve the hacksaw and started back down the hallway. Micah followed behind her at a safe distance. When they reached the dining car, River stopped long enough to set Pirate up on the bar.
“Give him a shot of rum,” she told Vann. “A small one, just a few drops. The man who sold him to me said Pirate gets surly if he drinks too much.”
The bartender raised his eyebrows, but River was already on her way out the door. Micah followed after her, grumbling something about “the word surly not being nearly adequate.” Pirate lifted an empty shot glass from the bar and offered it to the bartender.
When River returned, Socrates was no longer tapping on the pipe, but that didn’t matter. She knew what to do. Using the small wrench, she disconnected the pipe from its bracket on the wall. Then, very gently, she used the hacksaw to open the pipe. It took some patience and a steady hand, but River eventually managed to open the pipe without damaging the wiring inside. She pulled it apart, revealing several strands of copper wire wrapped in dense fabric.
“What now?” said Micah.
River put her mouth up to the opening. “Socrates, can you hear me?”
She twisted her head, putting her ear to the opening, and motioned for Micah to be silent. Like a distant echo, the ape’s tinny-sounding voice came out of the pipe: “River, you must keep the crew calm.”
“I’m trying. They’re all in the dining car. I told Vann to distribute a few shots of absinthe.”
“Excellent.”
“Socrates, are we completely out of fuel?”
“Not yet. We only have what’s left in the burner. I’m trying to maximize our efficiency, but there is one hour of steam left, if that.”
“Then what?” said River.
“According to the steamscout’s charts, there is a cavern a few miles down the tracks. If we can make it, we may find air.”
“What about starfall?” said Micah. “Tell him about the eel!”
River dismissed Micah with a roll of her eyes. “I’ll notify the crew,” she said. “Is there anything else we can do for now?”
“Be patient. I have a plan. Tell me, has anyone seen Burk?”
River frowned. She glanced at Micah and saw his eyes widen slightly. “No,” she said. “He’s either hiding, or he’s not on the train. This may have been his doing.”
“I have my suspicions. We’ll discuss it when we make it to safety.”
River rose to her feet, dusting off her leather breeches.
“I need to tell you something,” Micah said, his gaze fixed on the floor. River frowned.
“What is it?”
“Before we left, I heard Burk talking to some strangers. They were planning something.”
“Why didn’t you say something about this before?”
“I forgot,” Micah said. “I’m sorry.”
River dropped to one knee in front of him. “Tell me exactly what they said, Micah.”
He searched his memory. “I don’t know… it really didn’t make any sense. Something about meeting someone up north, and something about being paid. Will our friends to the north pay us? That’s what Burk said. And his companion said they would have to.”
River considered that. “All right,” she said rising to her feet. “It doesn’t matter now. What’s done is done. For now, we need to focus on keeping the crew together.”
“So that’s it?” said Micah. “All we can do is wait?”
“We’re on a train,” River said impatiently. “That’s all we ever do.”
“Good point.”
“Go tell the others that we’ve contacted Socrates, and that we have a plan.”
“About the cavern?”
“No, don’t tell them anything else. I’m not even sure we’re going to make it to the cavern. Just tell them we have a plan, that’s all. That should keep them quiet for a while.”
Micah hurried off, leaving River alone in the railcar. She waited until she was certain Micah was out of earshot, then she bent down to the pipe again. In a quiet voice, she whispered:
“Socrates, he’s gone. Now tell me about your plan.”
Chapter 7
A short while later, River returned to the dining car. She found Pirate on the counter, curled up around a shot glass and purring like a kitten. In the corner of the room, Thane had produced his lute and had begun to strum a soft ballad while a few of the Tal’mar played a game of cards. The rest of the crew watched intently, trying to think about anything other than their own nervousness. Shayla was pacing back and forth, wringing her hands nervously. River glanced at her as she settled onto a stool next to Pirate.
“I think she might need another drink,” River said quietly to Vann.
The bartender leaned closer. “I already gave her another. It didn’t make a stitch of difference.”
River frowned. Despite her dislike of the woman, she couldn’t help feeling sorry for Shayla. River knew what it was like to be terrified, to feel completely out of control. It was a feeling she wouldn’t wish on her worst enemy. She considered talking to Shayla, trying to calm her down, but River had no idea what to say. She had nothing in common with the woman, other than Kale perhaps.
The warrior had an eye for beautiful women, which may have explained his interest in the two of them. For her part, Shayla seemed to return that interest, but as far as River knew, she had never acted on it. River considered that, and wondered if it was true. It was a big train, and everyone came and went as they pleased. It wouldn’t have been hard for Kale to sneak into Shayla’s quarters without being noticed, or vice-versa…
The bartender produced the bottle of absinthe and set it on the bar in front of her. River waved it away. “The crew has had enough,” she said. “If it hasn’t helped yet, then it won’t.”
“It was meant for you.”
“I’ll take a glass of water. Someone on this train has to keep her head straight.”
Vann filled a glass, and River noticed the liquid tilting slightly to the side. She glanced around the car and realized that subconsciously, everyone on the train had begun to lean to the side.
“We’re climbing,” she said.
Several people stopped what they were doing to look at her. As they processed what she had said, they glanced around the car and realized that it was true. At once, everyone in the dining car made a mad dash for the windows. The railcar came alive with chatter as the crewmembers clamored for a glimpse outside. The bridge came to an abrupt end, and the seawater around the train grew lighter. Someone pointed out a dark shape rising up from the seafloor ahead of the train.
“It looks like land,” one of the Tal’mar observed. “We made it!”
They all began cheering. River exchanged a glance with Micah and shook her head, warning him to keep his mouth shut. Micah didn’t understand her reasoning, but he obeyed nonetheless.
As they progressed, the shape seemed to rise ever higher in their path, until it loomed over the train like a massive shadow. It was only then, as the Horse slid into the shadow of the formation, that the others began to realize something was wrong. What had at first seemed to be land was in fact a mountain, and the tracks didn’t seem to go up the mountain to dry land at all. In fact, from what they could see, the tracks actually seemed to disappear into the mountain.
“What is this?” one of the Tal’mar said loudly, turning to face River. “This cannot be the way out.”
The others stared at her. River took a sip of water and set the glass on the bar. She turned to face them on her stool.
“This isn’t the end of our journey,” she sa
id at last. “Some of you may have guessed it by now. That mountain is the halfway point; the chain of islands we saw from shore. We’re still in the middle of the Forgotten Sea.”
There was a chorus of groans. River allowed them to get it all out before she continued:
“A steamscout went out ahead of us. It reported a cavern in this area. Socrates believes we’ll find fresh air inside the mountain, if we can make it that far.”
“If we make it?” said Vann, crossing his arms over his chest. “And what if we don’t?”
“We’ll deal with that when we come to it.”
They began to argue all at once, but River raised her voice over the commotion. “Listen to me! We are going to make it. Once we get to safety, then we can sort things out. We’ll find fuel. If we can’t find fuel, then we’ll dig our way to the surface if we have to. But right now, I need you all to stay calm. That’s the only way we’re going to get through this. Can you do that? Can you have just a little faith in Socrates, and keep it together for a bit longer?”
They averted their eyes, and a silence fell over the room. Satisfied, River turned back to the bar. Pirate cozied up next to her, and she scratched him on the head. River hated the fact that she’d lied to the crew, but what else could she tell them? For the moment, her number one priority was keeping them sane. Deep down, she knew it was unlikely that they would make it to the cavern. The truth was it was unlikely that they would have made it as far as they already had. Socrates had come through far beyond her expectations. It almost made her believe he really could get the train to that cavern.
And what then? she thought.
Ten minutes later, a pitch black hole opened up at the base of the mountain. They all watched nervously as darkness swallowed the locomotive. The flat chassis of the missing tender car went next, and then the railcars began to disappear one by one. A moment later, the dining car went dark. For a few seconds, the only light was that of the two lanterns hanging over the bar. Then the tunnel around them began to glow with a strange green luminescence.
Killing the Machine (Aboard the Great Iron Horse Book 2) Page 4
