Steemjammer: Through the Verltgaat

by John Eubank

Cobee said that he didn’t. As a Youth Volunteer he just needed to wear protective clothing. In the men’s locker room, they went through great piles of outfits that had been donated over the decades and, in some cases, centuries. Many were quite old, and some smelled funny.

  Most Museum workers wore gray or blue denim overalls because they were light weight and practical, but the kids found them ugly. A dark brown oilskin duster - a long coat made of waterproof fabric that looked like leather - caught Will’s eye, as did a wide-brimmed leather hat. Cobee chose a leather vest and helmet, and they headed out.

  “It’s so dark,” Will said, thinking of bright electric lighting in public buildings back on earth. “It must be pitch black in here at night.”

  Museum rooms and corridors were mainly lit by tall windows that opened either to the outside or interior courtyards. On the top floor, rooms had skylights in the ceilings, but down here, light-wells brought sunlight from roof reflectors down shiny metal tubes. An occasional brass oil lamp hung on the wall, bathing darker recesses with a flickering glow.

  “Dark?” Cobee said. “Really?”

  “I guess it’s just weird to see such a big building with no light bulbs,” Will admitted.

  His cousin made a face. “Huh? Bulbs of light?”

  Will laughed. “Electric lights.”

  “What?”

  “Of course! ‘Electricity’s bad.’ I guess it doesn’t work here like it does on Old Earth. What about gunpowder? If electricity doesn't work, I wonder if it does.”

  “What powder? We have steemguns, of course.”

  “Naturally.”

  With Cobee still trying to understand what a light bulb was, they met the girls in the hallway outside the locker rooms. Giselle wore a long, dark gray coat with brown leather patches, while Angelica had chosen a bright yellow jumpsuit.

  “I think it’s pretty,” she protested as the boys pretended to shield their eyes from its “harmful brilliance.”

  “I see a chicken,” Giselle observed.

  “I’m not a chicken! I’m a ray of yellow sunshine.”

  “No, I see a chicken in a straw hat. It’s waving.”

  Indeed, down the hallway a human-sized “chicken” randomly took off its hat and waved, hissing steam.

  “Oh, that’s the ‘Sky Is Falling’ exhibit,” Cobee explained. “Good old Chicken Little.”

  “The sky is falling?” Angelica asked incredulously.

  “Well, it’s got a crack.” Reacting to their looks of confusion, he continued. “A very small one. Pieces have fallen out, but we’ve only managed to find a few. Even a tiny sliver of the sky’s worth a fortune!”

  “Aha!” Giselle said.

  “You know where a piece of the sky is?”

  “No, I just have a bad habit of saying ‘aha!’” She paused a moment to process something before continuing incredulously. “Cobee, you just told us there’s a crack in the sky.”

  “You can see it with a telescope,” Cobee explained calmly. “Some say they can see it with the naked eye, but I doubt it.”

  “The sky?”

  “Ya.”

  “How can it crack?”

  Cobee shrugged. “Like an eggshell?”

  “What?”

  “That’s an exhibit for loottel kinter.” Little children. “It shows how the sky’s not really falling, how it’s been cracked for many years with no change. So there’s no reason for a nachtdoyvel.” Nightmare.

  “Hold on,” Will said, still trying to get this. “You’re saying the sky’s a big blue dome?”

  Cobee nodded.

  “What are the sun and moon, then?”

  “Is there even a moon here?” Giselle added.

  “Of course,” Cobee said, laughing. “We’ve been to it – our Steemjammer ancestors did, though it’s been a while.”

  “But what is it?”

  “A huge, glowing white disk. What else?”

  “How does it move?” Angelica said with disbelief.

  “Tracks.”

  “Huh?”

  “There are tracks in the sky. You can see them with a telescope, and somewhere in the Museum are old photos – from the lunar expedition.”

  “Wait,” Will objected. “The moon would have to be beneath such tracks.”

  “Right.”

  “Why doesn’t it fall off?”

  Cobee laughed. “Why don’t people ‘fall off’ Old Earth, if it really is a sphere?”

  “Seriously!” Angelica huffed. “In this case, it would just drop to the ground, right?

  “No,” Cobee explained. “They’re not train tracks. They’re slots in the sky that run all the way from east to west. Posts go up from the moon into the slots, and they theorize that wheels run along an interior rail. The explorers thought it was too dangerous to climb up and look, so we’re not sure.”

  “And the sun?”

  “The same, except it’s on fire.”

  “The sun’s a big burning disk that zooms across the sky on tracks,” Giselle asked, not believing a word of it, “without melting anything?”

  “Right.”

  “Why doesn’t it blacken the dome?”

  “Special alloys? Lack of oxygen up there? Who knows.”

  “But what happens when it hits the end?”

  “There is no end. The sky bends down, far to the west, and the sun enters a tunnel, where it travels underground all night, back to the east. Then, it travels up the sky and goes across again.

  “The moon travels opposite the sun. It’s quite simple. I don’t understand these faces you’re making.”

  Will’s expression became even more extreme. “I can picture what you’re saying, but it’s too fantastic to believe. Next, you’ll be saying Beverkenverlt is flat.”

  “Why wouldn’t I? It’s true.”

  “Ect neet! Really?”

  Cobee nodded.

  “What is this place, then,” Will asked, “a gigantic glokkenspeel?” Toy clock?

  Giselle rubbed her head. “Don’t even think that! Knowing my luck, it’d be like the ones in your house.”

  “Some say B’verlt is a giant machine,” Cobee said, “but others disagree.”

  “Wait,” Angelica quizzed, “if the sun’s been burning at the same rate for hundreds of years, why hasn’t it run out of fuel?”

  “If this place isn’t a planet,” Giselle added, “then what causes gravity?”

  Cobee laughed, signaling them to follow him.

  “I know just the thing you should see,” he said, lowering his voice because an elderly couple visiting the museum was getting close. “This will explain everything.”

  ***

  After passing a rather droll display on the evolution of the hammer, they came upon a popular exhibit about the Gnome-Kwellgeest War. Cobee said that they needed to go on to another exhibit, but Angelica went in, forcing them to follow. She gasped with delight as they came upon a life-sized model of a gnome village tucked away under trees with square trunks and triangular leaves.

  “Just like our clock!” she said, admiring the mechanical Gnomes that came out of their diminutive homes to work. Some swung hammers while others planted flowers.

  “If you can’t tell the time from it,” Giselle said, referring to the tiny Gnome village in Beverkenhaas, “how can you call it that?”

  In no mood to argue, Angelica ignored her and read about how the Gnomes were one of the creatures living in Beverkenverlt when the early human explorers arrived almost 400 years ago. There’d been some awful wars that had left native populations decimated, and the Gnomes had almost been wiped out by an invasion of small, imp-like humanoids called Kwellgeest.

  After learning of their plight, Gerardus Steemjammer invented a shotgun-like steemvaapen that sprayed swarms of metal balls and took down waves of attacking Kwellgeest. The Gnomes were so grateful that they promised one of their kind would serve the Steemjammer family for all time. They took turns at this job and, having extremely long lives, had terms that
lasted 40 years.

  “Gustaavus,” Angelica whispered excitedly. “That’s why he stayed with us, even though being on Old Earth was bad for him. Oh, what a good little Gnome!”

  They learned that Gnomes were extremely rare now in B’verlt and almost never seen in the cities. Because there was a long line to get into the back rooms of the Gnome exhibit, Angelica agreed to move on to the place that Cobee wanted to show them.

  In a few minutes they were in an older part of the Steem Museum. They entered a dark room with about fifty wood and brass theater-style seats. A pair of red velvet curtains, one above the other, covered the tall stage.

  “What is this?” Giselle said.

  “Have a seat,” Cobee said. “You’ll see.”

  “Why isn’t anyone else here?” Will said.

  “Because everyone already knows this. It’s also one of the oldest exhibits. Some think it’s achterhaalt.” Old-fashioned. “But I think it’s gaaf.”

  While they picked out seats, Cobee went to a lever near the stage and gave it a tug. Gaslights that lined the walls dimmed, the noise of whirring machinery could be heard, and a hidden music box began to play. They could just see clockwork gears turning above the stage, opening the top curtain. It revealed the interior of an old workshop with a funny-looking bronze boiler, pipes, gears, and a spinning carousel.

  “The first verltgaat?” Giselle guessed.

  “Ya, this is Gerardus Steemjammer’s workshop on Old Earth in the year 0, B.Y., or 1640 in O.E.Y.,” Cobee explained. “B’verlt years and Old Earth years. Placards are supposed to pop up so you can read all this, but I guess that part’s not working today.”

  The music played a brief fanfare, and a mechanical man with a slightly bulbous nose and a leather cap entered. He wore a leather apron over his old-fashioned clothes and a belt stuffed with antique tools. His movements were a little stiff, but Will thought the animation wasn’t bad, considering this was an old exhibit.

  “That’s Gerardus Steemjammer,” Cobee said, turning his head to make sure no one else had entered. “Our great-times-a-lot grandfather.

  “It looks like the big statue,” Giselle said.

  “Right. He’s about to open the first verltgaat.”

  In the workshop, lights flashed, the machine spun faster, and the music sped up.

  “Where’s the Tracium?” Angelica said.

  “I don’t know,” Cobee said. “It’s never been a part of this display. Maybe it’s supposed to be a secret. Look, it’s opening.”

  A circular hatch representing the first verltgaat opened, only it wasn’t vertical like the one in Beverkenhaas - it was parallel to the ground and in the floor. They laughed as Gerardus’s eyes bugged open, and his bushy eyebrows went up with astonishment.

  “Is that a mistake?” Will asked of the simulated world hole.

  “No,” Cobee said. “The first verltgaat was small and like that – on the floor. Look. There he goes.”

  Bringing his hands together and closing his eyes for a quick prayer, the mechanical Gerardus jumped through the hole in the floor and vanished. Something behind the stage made a splashing sound, and the music rippled like a bubbling stream. The lower curtain opened to reveal a simulated underwater world in a Beverkenverltish river. The mechanical Gerardus seemed to float in water.

  “When I was little, I used to think he was really underwater,” Cobee laughed. “There’s a fan under him. That’s why his hair and the seaweed are moving funny.”

  “That’s very clever,” Angelica said.

  “Is he drowning?” Giselle asked.

  “Ya,” Cobee said. “He couldn’t swim.”

  “Then, why’d he jump?” Angelica said.

  “They say he believed he was staring at a cloud. He thought he’d opened a doorway into Heaven, but it was just a foggy day over the Noyrhine River.”

  As the mechanical Gerardus struggled, he seemed to slowly sink. The lower curtain closed.

  “He didn’t die, did he?” Giselle said.

  Cobee pointed. “Watch.”

  In the workshop above, a mechanical woman in a black dress with a lace collar entered. Her eyes opened wide as she appeared to see the verltgaat, and she looked down. Moving quickly, she picked up a rope and dropped it through.

  “That’s Kristina Steemjammer, his wife,” Cobee said. “Our great-times-a-lot grandmother.”

  She leaned back, tugging on the rope, and then the mechanical Gerardus came up out of the verltgaat. This time, he was dripping with real water. They kissed and then faced the audience, bowing. The music hit a finale, the top curtain closed, and the gas lights came back up. For a moment, Will, Angelica and Giselle sat in their seats, not sure what to think.

  “There are three dummies of Gerardus,” Cobee said, mistaking the reason for their bewilderment. “One wet, one dry – and the one that seems to be in the river.”

  “Fine, but wait a minute,” Giselle said, still trying to accept all this. “Our ancestor had a steam engine in 1640?”

  “He invented it, ya,” Cobee said.

  “The Ancient Greeks invented the steam engine,” Angelica corrected.

  Cobee made a face. “That was a toy and did not do work. Therefore, it wasn’t an engine. Gerardus made the first one that did anything meaningful.”

  “But I’ve read books on this,” Giselle said. “Why do they say the first true steam engine was invented after 1700 in England? Why don’t they know about this?”

  “Because, our ancestor didn’t just invent steam power,” Cobee said, “he discovered a new world. They probably kept it secret, and once they were here, why tell anyone back there about it? Anyway, that’s what I wanted you to see. It explains how we got here.”

  They stared at him, still fairly perplexed.

  “That didn’t answer your questions?” Cobee said, trying to hide his disappointment.

  “It answered some,” Will said, “but this is still really weird for us. I think it’s going to take a while for us to get used to this place.”

  Cobee nodded, and they decided to go look for the large storage room. As they filed out a side door into a back hallway reserved for Steem Museum personnel only, Angelica couldn’t help feeling that the exhibit had answered very little.

  “I’m still trying to figure out what this world is,” she said. “Is it like a giant snow globe?”

  Cobee made an exaggerated shrug, as he had no idea what that was. “I guess B’verlt and Old Earth must be very different. If you start with that, the rest may begin to make sense.”

  “‘Sense?’” a playfully chiding voice chirped. “Don’t listen to him. Nothing makes sense!”

  They tensed. A frail boy approached, topped by a large ball of thick, kinky red hair that hid his face. He pushed back a handful of it to reveal a wide grin and blue eyes made absurdly large by his enormous glasses. About Will’s age, his badge, like Cobee’s, read “APPRENTICE.”

  “Oh, hi Sully,” Cobee said, relaxing.

  With another push, Sully got his hair-flop to stay out of his face, and he carefully wiped his glasses clean with a felt cloth before extending a hand to Will and the girls.

  “Sully Spinoza,” he said.

  “This is Will,” Cobee said as they shook, “and his sisters.”

  He coughed loudly to drown out Angelica’s attempt to state that Giselle was her first cousin.

  “They’re our new boarders,” he added, stepping in front of her.

  “Gaaf,” Sully said. Cool. “First time to the Museum?”

  “Yeah,” Will said. “It’s really big.”

  Sully grinned. “No kidding. Stick with Cobee, or you’ll get lost. And when I say lost, I really mean it. We find skeletons of people who starved to death, they were so lost.”

  “On his first day,” Cobee laughed, “Sully got so turned around that he had to spend the night here. The next morning Donell organized search parties, and we found him around lunchtime, up in a condenser room.”

  “Where t
here was clean water.” Sully’s tone of voice made it sound so sensible. “At least I wasn’t thirsty.”

  “You were hungry enough to eat a groat klonk.”

  “It was that or my boots, and I think the shoe leather would have done less harm to my teeth.”

  “Groat klonk?” Will wanted to ask, but couldn’t get the question out in time, as Sully kept talking.

  “Well, I’ve got to get this part to Mildred,” he said, tapping a bronze gear in his hand, “or we’ll be up to our armpits in digested hay. See you at Steemball?”

  “Sure,” Cobee said. “See you there.”

  Pressing his falling hair-flop back up, Sully gave a little wave and wandered off down the corridor.

  “You can trust him,” Cobee whispered once he was gone, “or any Spinoza, for that matter. His grandfather worked at Beverkenfort and was killed by Shadovecht.”

  His tone darkened, and Will realized that there’d been no mentioning of Cobee’s parents. He wondered if they were killed by Shadovecht, too, but it seemed too sensitive a subject to bring up.

  “If so many people have been harmed by Rasmussens,” Giselle asked, “why don’t people rise up against them? Are they really that powerful?”

  Cobee shrugged but seemed to admit a reluctant yes.

  “What’s a Steemball?” Angelica said, steering the conversation to something more pleasant. She was getting tired of all this Rasmussen stuff.

  “Oh,” Cobee said, his face brightening, “we’re all crazy about it. In fact, there’s a big tournament next week to see who gets to represent the city. There’s so much to show you, but first we should find that room.”

  He led them through a maze of largely unmarked and poorly lit hallways. Soon, they lost all sense of direction, except for Will, who knew the way back to the main door but had no idea where they were going.

  “And who would this be, Ren-stink?” a voice challenged.

  Coming from a darkened side corridor, it caught the Steemjammer kids by surprise. Something about the snide English accent seemed familiar, and when a face emerged from the shadows, Will had to stifle a gasp. It was the boy they’d seen in the junk room, Bram.

  Chapter 15

  close encounters