Rue was clearly scared. Finally. Arsenic wished the captain had gotten scared a bit sooner, before she shifted shape.
“I’m coming too,” insisted Primrose.
“You’re leaving Percy in charge?” Arsenic wasn’t really interested but she wanted to keep Primrose distracted.
Prim nodded. “It’s only the grey, he can handle it. Spoo, you coming?”
“I’d as soon not be involved.” Spoo had a mildly disgusted expression on her face.
Arsenic glanced at the deckling. She had a funny-looking metal dachshund strapped to her belt, as if it were a pouch. Odd choice of apparel. Where’d that come from?
Anitra was off to one side in deep discussion with the Wallflower, Spoo went to join them. Since they were already a crowd, Arsenic left them to it.
Accordingly, they made their way over to the ladder and down two decks to engineering. Rue managed to climb, slowly, with Arsenic’s help. Rodrigo carried Lady Manami. Primrose carried Arsenic’s kit, which probably weighed more.
They made it to the upper part of the engineering platform, which also acted as a lookout over the boiler room. Quesnel noticed them arrive and headed up with a concerned expression.
As Arsenic had anticipated, Rue’s water broke right about then.
SEVENTEEN
On Birth, Death, and Decomposition
Things came over rather chaotic and messy after that, as births tend to do. Arsenic consoled herself that it wasn’t any worse than some of her battlefield surgeries. Although the smoky, steamy, hot confines of the boiler room, even the upper level, were not ideal for bringing new life into the world.
“It’s too soon,” Rue kept saying. And, “What have I done?” in between contractions and screaming.
Quesnel was, as husbands often were under such trying circumstances, entirely useless. Arsenic set him to helping Lady Manami and Rodrigo prep the tank, and insisted that she and Rue would do fine without him cursing in French every time Rue winced.
At some point, the chaos calmed slightly because, frankly, these things always took longer than anyone expected.
Arsenic consoled Rue that the baby was a touch early but would likely be fine, and that things were proceeding as per normal. Rue admitted that the pain was bad, worse than shifting shape, but not unbearable. She was rather a tough little thing, was the captain. Arsenic tried to persuade Rue to relocate but the captain was adamant they stay until Lady Manami was sorted. She refused to cede her captain’s duty to the minor inconvenience of an onset child.
Prim stuck close, a comforting support for her friend.
The rest of engineering stayed below, going about their jobs, ignoring the dramatics on the platform. Occasionally one of the sooties appeared with a bucket of hot water, which they had in endless supply. Said sootie would give the party a terrified look and then hurry back to more quotidian duties.
Lady Manami was still not in the tank, there seemed to be some difficulty about sharing with a corpse. Which was understandable, but if there was a better solution beyond dumping the kitsune overboard, Arsenic would like to hear it. Arsenic paused in her birth ministrations to look over.
Rue had calmed enough to occasionally emit an articulate sentence and her current obsession resolved itself into one continued question, “What is Formerly Floote doing here?”
“’Tis his tank, dear.” Arsenic worried that Rue might be running a fever or becoming demented.
“No, he’s manifested. Why?” Rue pressed.
“Well, he’s a ghost and ’tis nighttime. They do that.”
“No! We are inside the grey. He can’t manifest! Oooch. Bollix that hurts.”
Arsenic finally understood Rue’s concern. They were no longer inside the aetherosphere, because there was a ghost present. She caught a bit of non-corporeal white above them out of the corner of her eye.
“She’s right, you know.” Virgil appeared with a tea tray and a lachrymose expression. “Good evening, Formerly Floote. Tea, Doctor? Percy sent me. Thought you needed it. And crumpets. He was most insistent.”
Arsenic did, but wondered if it might be considered rude to pause a birthing to consume tea and buttered crumpets.
Also she must keep her hands clean.
Virgil, carefully not looking at the captain’s supine form, poured Arsenic a cup and then held it for her to sip, as if Arsenic were the invalid. She drank the whole cup down in one dredge. It was delicious.
Virgil was scandalized by her gluttony, but they were both glad to have it over with.
He then fed her the crumpet as though this were the most embarrassing thing he’d ever had to do in his life.
Arsenic ate it as quickly as she could, and felt substantially better for the sustenance. She’d been languishing.
“Ho there!” said Rue. “Do I get tea? I’m doing all the work.”
Arsenic glared at her. “You can have water.”
It was then that Arsenic noticed that not only had Floote materialized but Lady Manami was calm under Rodrigo’s touch. She was no longer in pain.
“We must be quite low down,” Rue concluded. “I hope Percy hasn’t put us in danger. Quesnel, darling, would you call up to navigation and find out where we are and what he’s about?”
Quesnel probably wanted to glare at his wife, but under the current circumstances, he reached for the speaking tube with alacrity.
After some tense back-and-forth over the tube, Quesnel reported that Percy had decided to get them out of trouble by taking them away from Japan, south over Formosa and the open ocean. They were quite low, just dodging the waves. Percy was committed to keeping them there until everything got sorted.
“He insists on holding position, but we need to hurry up and make choices, because we’re running low on fuel.”
Rue took her husband’s hand when he came back to her. “Coal or water? Oh ouch, darling, don’t take this wrong but I think I rather dislike you right now.”
“It’s not my fault we’re running out of fuel, chérie. And both, I’m afraid.”
“That’s not why I dislike you. Tell Percy to make for the nearest friendly wheystation. Hong Kong, I suspect. Barring that, we’ll take a nice lake and a forest in welcoming territory.”
Quesnel was scandalized. “Can’t put trees in coal burners! It’ll bung up the works. Really, mon petit chou!”
“Needs must, my love. Just tell Percy, please.”
Primrose gasped. She’d been silently helping with hot water and swabbing Rue’s brow and other capable nurse-like duties. “Oh no! Tash’ll be awake and it’s full moon! She’s not in her cell. She’ll destroy all my hats! You’ll be all right while I just run and secure them?”
Rue waved a hand.
Arsenic agreed. “Things will likely take a while.”
Prim bustled off, climbing up off the platform with remarkable dexterity for one in full skirts and puffy sleeves.
Rue clicked her tongue. “I don’t know what she thinks she can do about it. Tash makes for a big mean lioness.”
Virgil brought them back around to the important things in life. “Anyone else for tea?”
Rue made a beseeching face at Arsenic.
Arsenic said, firmly, “Some fresh drinking water, please, Virgil.”
No one else seemed inclined for tea, although Rodrigo snagged a crumpet as Virgil made his way out.
Rodrigo and Lady Manami were standing to one side now, out of the way, and in awkward conversation with Formerly Floote, who was near poltergeist stage and therefore only loosely cohesive and not at all communicative.
Quesnel picked the tube back up and began arguing with Percy about flight patterns and propeller usage.
Primrose returned carrying all manner of items – blankets, pillows, soap, cognac, vinegar, bicarbonate of soda, a flowery sun hat, and a bottle of rose water. Arsenic wasn’t certain about any of it, but if it made Prim feel good.
Quesnel started yelling at Percy about the fact that Rue was busy giving birth and d
id he have to be so difficult? That appeared to perturb Percy no end, because he hung up on Quesnel. Then the engineer was suddenly looming over them.
Arsenic put him and Primrose to work creating a bed out of blankets for Rue. It made them feel better and it would make the captain slightly more comfortable.
In the manner of many first babies, not to mention those early and traumatized, this one seemed likely to be difficult. Rue’s contractions were getting closer.
Percy tubed back down. Quesnel picked back up. In a matter of moments they were yelling at each other again.
Arsenic consoled herself that at least they were out of her way. Eventually Quesnel’s end of the conversation got loud enough for Arsenic to summon the tube to be stretched to her ear.
She was going to settle this matter.
“M’eudail?”
“Oh, Arsenic, how is Rue?”
“As well as can be expected, Percy. Do please stop yelling at poor Quesnel.”
“But he got her into this mess.”
“In a manner of speaking. But ’tis rather her own fault, too.”
“I suppose so. But I enjoy yelling at Quesnel.”
“Weel, stop it. Now is na the time.”
“He won’t tell me what’s happening down there.”
“Because nothing is happening. These things take time. Now, be nice to the man.” She looked at Quesnel while she said this, meeting his eyes firmly. “You both love her. Stop fussing.”
“If you insist. I’m taking us to Hong Kong.”
“That sounds lovely. You do that.”
“Did you get tea?”
“I did, thank you.”
“I thought it might be necessary. And crumpets.”
“Verra buttery, but now I must be off. Birth and such.”
“Oh! Yes, of course.”
Sometime later, difficult to tell exactly how long, Arsenic held a wriggling baby girl in her arms. The child had some lungs on her, rather like her mother.
The bairn passed a quick inspection, after which Arsenic cleaned her best she could, swaddled her in a pillowcase, and passed her off to smudged and exhausted parents.
Quesnel’s eyes were incandescent with love. He also seemed pleased his child had been born in engineering.
“Look at that grip on her. We shall have you holding a wrench in no time, petite fleur.”
Primrose had remained the entire time, holding Rue’s hand when needed, encouraging her to drink water and soothing her with a damp cloth. Now she helped Rue to sit up, propped against Quesnel, and placed the baby in her friend’s arms.
Arsenic, having dealt with the afterbirth and ensuing mess, was busy cleaning herself up in one of the sooties’ buckets using Prim’s soap. Sadly, her bicycle suit had been through more than enough for one lifetime. She’d have to get a new one.
Primrose asked the inevitable question. “What will you name her, darlings?”
Rue and Quesnel exchanged a look.
“Alexandra Constance,” said Rue after a moment.
Which seemed a mouthful to Arsenic, but who was she to criticize names? After all, hers was Arsenic.
Rue explained. “After various sets of grandparents. Close enough to Alexia to make Mother happy, but also it’s basically the translation of Alessandro.” She nodded over to Rodrigo, who was grinning in pleasure. “And, of course, it’s really for my Dama. He’ll be chuffed.”
Primrose was nodding, face pressed next to her friend’s, looking down at the newborn with worshipful eyes. “And Constance?”
“Well, I had to suffer Prudence my whole life. Can’t let her escape codswallop free. Also, I was thinking of Paw, since he’s a Conall.”
“Nothing for Quesnel’s side?”
Rue smiled. “She’s a Lefoux, isn’t she?”
Rodrigo and Lady Manami came over and stood looking down at the new family.
Rodrigo greeted his baby cousin with a string of lyrical Italian and those funny faces adults will make at babies before finally he said, “I think Formerly Floote has a request.”
It was then that they all remembered the ghost.
He’d been there for a while, of course, witnessing everything. Arsenic thought he might even be aware of it, or mostly aware of it.
Formerly Floote’s limbs were stretched and his eyebrows drifted, but he was managing to keep his non-corporeal form cohesive. His ghostly apparition wore old-fashioned dress, something on the order of what Percy currently wore. Only of a style meant for valets.
He wafted above them, his shape misty and easy to see through, his tether frayed beyond repair. Truly, the Lefoux tank was a thing of great technological achievement to have kept him this long.
Rodrigo said, carefully, “Rather than share the tank, I believe he wants to give it up.”
Rue’s eyes went wide as she looked up from her beloved new baby, to her beloved old ghost. “No!”
Quesnel had one arm about his wife’s waist. His other hand rested on his child. “You need to let him go, chérie.”
Tears streamed down Rue’s face.
Arsenic was sympathetic. The captain clearly collected people and made them family. It was entirely against her nature to let anyone go. Especially not forever.
Rue took a shuddering breath. “It can’t be my choice. It should be Anitra’s. She’s his granddaughter, after all.”
Quesnel nodded and reached to unhook the speaking tube.
Percy answered, although Arsenic only heard Quesnel’s side.
“Send down Anitra, please? Yes, everything is fine! Oh! Yes, the baby, she’s a girl. No, I don’t know what she is. What on steaming earth do you mean by asking a question like that? Why do we need Anitra? No, nothing to do with translating for the baby. Anitra doesn’t speak baby, besides the baby hasn’t said much, only drooled a bit. She’s adorable. What do you mean, that doesn’t matter? Of course it matters! Will you stop asking that? Send down Anitra! Merde!” Quesnel hung up the tube. “That man!”
Arsenic perfectly understood what had happened. Percy wanted to know if metanatural Rue and human Quesnel had produced a human baby, a metanatural baby, or a preternatural one. Arsenic was equally curious about this, but didn’t want to press the matter.
Anitra climbed down to the platform a few minutes later. She looked with charmed eyes at the new baby and then with sad eyes at her grandfather’s ghost.
“He’s ready to go?”
Rodrigo nodded and held out his free hand, the one not keeping Lady Manami sane.
Anitra took it and pressed against him, cuddling her husband close.
She took a shuddering breath, then turned to face the others, looking down at Rue.
“He told me, before he started to slip into poltergeist, that he was ready. He’s accomplished it all. He didn’t think he’d see the next generation, and now he has. It’s more than time.”
Above them the ghost shivered, head nodding. He was lucid enough to follow Anitra.
Then Formerly Floote said, slowly and distinctly, “My duties are done.” He sounded, if not happy, at least satisfied.
Anitra gave a little half sob. “He told me—” She stopped to collect herself. “He told me to tell you that he had a long life and a longer-than-expected afterlife and he’s finished.”
It was her soulless husband who broke the sombre mood. “Unfortunately, I am otherwise occupied and cannot free him.”
Rue kissed the top of her baby’s head. “It’ll be me then. It should be me, anyway. Quesnel, help me over to the tank.”
“Rue, chérie, is that wise? Doctor?”
Arsenic sighed. “Probably not, but I’m beginning to understand how she is. Here, give Alexandra to me, you help your wife.”
Primrose and Quesnel helped Rue over to the tank suspended from the ceiling at the far side of the platform.
Fortunately, during the chaos of the grey, Quesnel had already lowered it down and cracked the lid’s seal. The bubbles were still passing throughout the orange liquid,
partly hiding the body within.
The hiss and screech of metal against metal with a hydraulic assist indicated the tank was now fully open.
Arsenic made herself look. She was a doctor, she’d seen many a dead body before.
The corpse was completely wrapped like a mummy, no parts visible. Presumably this helped to prevent decomposition.
Primrose made a tiny retching noise. She angled her body so as not to see into the tank. Although she stayed standing behind and supporting Rue.
Quesnel was the one who reached in, lifting the body up to the surface and into the air.
Arsenic smelled formaldehyde and other preservatives, but no stench of death.
Rue reached in and under the bandage-like wrappings so she might touch flesh. Arsenic had never witnessed an exorcism before but she understood the basic premise.
Above them Floote’s long stretched misty body drifted apart, coiling and separating further. Until his essence joined the ever-present steam of the boiler room, and he was no more.
Arsenic, who was modern in her opinions on the matter of hygiene, insisted that neither Rue nor Quesnel touch the baby after performing an exorcism until they had washed, preferably with something stronger than soap.
Fortunately, there were buckets of hot water all about, with the sooties desperate to help. So the new parents scrubbed down and then doused themselves in Primrose’s vinegar, which Arsenic doubted would do much good but couldn’t hurt, and then again with the brandy. Which Arsenic thought should do the trick.
Meanwhile, Arsenic sidled over to Rodrigo and asked him to let go of Lady Manami for a quick moment. Lady Manami looked panicked and braced herself.
“’Tis only a test.” Arsenic tried to sound confident.
Rodrigo let go.
Lady Manami instantly began doing that flickering thing, where she was both a small white fox, in between with the head of a fox and multiple fox tails, and fully human.
Arsenic touched the baby’s tiny fist to Lady Manami’s cheek.
Nothing happened.
Arsenic nodded, pleased. Her theory confirmed.
Rodrigo grabbed the kitsune by the hand once more.
Reticence Page 32
