Free-Wrench

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by Joseph R. Lallo

Chapter 14

  “Okay, boys and girls!” Lil cried out in combined exhilaration and fear. “I think we got their attention!”

  She huddled behind the stout masonry of the warehouse’s roof access. It was a brick enclosure that sheltered a staircase leading down into the building from the roof, or at least it had been a few minutes ago. Now it was rapidly being reduced to rubble by a hail of fléchettes launched from the twin guns of the hovering patrol ship.

  “We just need a few more seconds!” Nita called from inside.

  “Well, I don’t know if you’re gonna get it,” she replied. A brief lull in gunfire gave her a chance to lean out and unload a few rounds with her stolen rifle. Like most things they’d found since they’d approached the warehouse, it was an order of magnitude better made than what they’d been using. The weapon barked a short sharp report and actually managed to buckle the metal mounting of one of the fléchette guns. “I hope I live long enough to get good with this thing.”

  The sound of a second and much more familiar set of turbines drew the attention of Lil and the patrol ship alike. The senior officer of the patrol ship pulled out his megaphone. “Attention unknown ship. You will leave this area immediately, or you will be fired on. We are in the process of eliminating a trespasser and will not be interfered with.”

  “I don’t rightly care,” came the captain’s bellowed reply.

  “The cap’n’s here! You ready yet!” Lil cried.

  “We’re ready!” Nita called back.

  “Finally! Cap’n! Down here!” Lil waved. A fresh round of fléchettes from the intact deck gun sent her back under cover. “Hang on, I’ll light up another flare so’s you can see me!”

  She strapped her rifle to her back and pulled out the second flare, little more than a bundle of brightly burning material strapped to a small parachute. Lighting the fuse and hefting it once, she made ready to heave it straight up, but a thought struck her. With a shrug, she hurled it instead directly at the deck of the patrol ship, which had pulled quite close in its attempts to perforate her. The flare sparked to brilliant life just as it landed on the deck, causing a few moments of panic as they tried to figure out what she had thrown. It didn’t last long, but it lasted long enough for the Wind Breaker to get close enough to make it clear to the patroller that it had no intention of avoiding a collision. The ship hastily withdrew, and the Wind Breaker roared overhead, unfurling its rope ladder as it went. Lil, with her typical disregard for safety and common sense, dove off the roof after the rope and just barely snagged it, hauling herself quickly inside.

  There she found Butch, holding tight to the railing around the hatch after having sent down the ladder. Lil ran to the speaking tube in the gig room and hollered into it.

  “Cap’n, I’m gonna start unhooking the gig.” Since the winch for the gig was the strongest and the hatch above the gig was one of the largest, they frequently detached the gig to haul in larger cargo. To facilitate this, the final length of chain connected to the gig was fastened in place with removable bolts, above which were heavy-duty hooks. Lil deployed a pair of wrenches and began loosening the bolts. “When you see the rest of the crew, chase them down and we’ll pick them up.”

  “That’s going to be a mite difficult, seeing as how I don’t know where they are, and, without a distraction, these patrol ships on either side of me aren’t going to give me the time to find them,” he replied.

  “I don’t think you’ll have to worry about that. Just get the ship moving down that there street, and don’t stop for nothing.”

  At that moment a deafening crack of thunder split the air from below as a large section of the warehouse wall exploded outward. The enemy ships pulled back, their crew shouting and scanning the area for artillery. Shattered bits of masonry were still raining down to the ground when a wheel-squealing, piston-pumping contraption came roaring through the hole in the wall. It was the steam cart, mounded with all manner of stolen goods. Nita sat at the controls on the front end, her goggles firmly in place. She was wrestling to keep the vehicle from plowing into the buildings on either side of the street while the rest of the crew clung desperately to the mound of loot. It rattled along the road at a speed that clearly came as a surprise to its passengers. A brilliant beam of light projected from a curved reflector above the over-stoked firebox, lighting up the street ahead of them.

  “What the hell is that?” the captain hollered over the speaking tube.

  “That’s our haul. Pretty good one, huh?” Lil said. “Get us over it.”

  “We’re not going to have any luck loading that thing up with these three ships all over us,” the captain said. The sounds of fléchettes digging into the wood of the gondola were already coming in bursts. “If you’re going to drop the gig, do it on my mark.”

  “Aye, Cap’n.”

  The Wind Breaker pitched upward, phlogiston pumping into its envelope and its altitude rising. One of the patrol ships flew beside them, its lone functioning gun focused on the madly weaving steam cart below. The other patrol ship was behind them but gaining fast, peppering them with fléchettes that had so far been unable to puncture the additional patches they’d applied during their days of preparation. The art of ship-to-ship combat was effectively reduced to achieving and holding the high ground. Whichever ship was highest had the best shot at the envelopes of the others while simultaneously protecting its own. Captain Mack had made certain his cannons were loaded, but without his full crew they would be slow to reload, so he was reluctant to fire them until he was certain he needed to. Though he wasn’t precisely certain why his recently rescued deckhand was determined to cut the gig loose, so long as it was going to happen, it may as well serve a purpose.

  He eased the ship over one of the two huge fans that gave the patrol ship its speed and slowly descended. “You ready to cut her loose?”

  “Just gotta yank the last bolt, Cap’n. Waiting for your mark,” Lil yelled over to the speaking tube. She had a pair of pliers clamped onto the final bolt and was holding tight to the railing around the gig hatch as the boat dangled against the one remaining connection.

  “Almost… almost… now!”

  “Launching gig!” Lil pulled the bolt loose and the boat plummeted a short distance before colliding with the port fan of the patrol ship.

  The powerful blades easily chewed through the wood of the boat, but not without consequence. Damaged blades buckled and finally tore free, one launching almost straight up and missing the Wind Breaker by inches. The patrol ship wasn’t so lucky, with one blade biting into the deck of the gondola and another slicing open the top of the envelope to release a blinding flare of fluorescent phlogiston lancing into the sky. It was enough to send the stricken ship spiraling quickly to the ground, its distress whistle blasting all the while.

  “Whoo-hoo! That’s one down!” Lil crowed. She rushed to the speaking tube. “Listen, Cap’n. We gotta get lower. Gunner and Nita figure the best way to do this is to hook the gig hoist to that cart thing there. After that we can haul the whole thing away.”

  “Were you planning on consulting with me about this?”

  “That’s what I’m doing now, Cap’n. You reckon we can do it?”

  There was a brief and potent silence. “I suppose we’ll find out.”

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