Heart of the Colossus_A Steampunk Space Opera Adventure

by Nicole Grotepas

  Shig stared at her, a bored look on his face. He shrugged, unimpressed, and turned to let them into the secluded shop. “I probably don’t need to tell her what happens to people who divulge my location.” He wore a dark blue lab coat and with magnifying goggles on top of his forehead.

  “Ah, Shig, is that a threat?” Darius asked.

  “What the fuck do you think? Yes. Yes, it’s a threat. I’m violating every kind of health and medical code here. This is side work. My bread and butter is the hospital.”

  “OK, Shig, worry not. Drake is with me. I wouldn’t bring someone here that I didn’t trust with my own life.”

  Holly strode around the interior, studying the vials and syringes on the shelves. They were all wrapped in a secure, yet biodegradable style of plastic. Flasks, beakers, retort stands, and things of that nature were organized along one shelf, while others held jars and vials with labels on them. Something bubbled in a crucible over an open flame at the far end of the room. She was curious, yet something about Shig made her nervous, so she avoided the concoction and stood with her arms folded over her chest, anxious to get out of the shop.

  Darius spoke with Shig about what they wanted, bartered on the price, settled on one. Shig went to a chest of drawers, slid one open and pulled out a gun. Holly stepped back seeing it in the man’s hands.

  “It’s OK, it’s just a tranquilizer gun. Can’t shoot anything else,” Shig said, seeing Holly’s reaction.

  He handed the gun to Darius along with a canvas pouch full of what looked like syringes.

  Shig pulled one out and demonstrated how to load the gun. “I’d go for the rear end, a thigh, or the neck.”

  Holly cringed when he recommended the neck.

  “Right, it seems painful, but trust me, they won’t even notice.”

  Darius laughed and they left after paying the doctor.

  NINE

  BACK at the Bird’s Nest, Holly watched as Darius showed Shiro how to use the tranquilizer gun.

  “I prefer sword-play. This isn’t a distraction, it’s brute strength. There’s no finesse. I need finesse, chaps.”

  “Alright, Odeon, then,” Darius said, looking at the Druiviin where he sat on the sofa, plucking out a tune on a small stringed Druiviin instrument.

  “I am sorry, but that’s not something I can do, either. I’m a healer. Injecting someone with that goes against everything I believe in.”

  Darius fumed quietly, his jaw clenching and unclenching. “Really? Using that Ousaba isn’t healing, is it? Fine.” He breathed out. Looking around the room. Charly had just come into the Nest and sat down behind her desk, rummaging through drawers and riffling through papers. Darius’s gaze settled on her. “Charly then.”

  “What?” She glanced up and saw the tranquilizer gun in his hands. “Oh, hell yeah. You should have just picked me from the start,” Charly said, standing up and moving around her desk to take the gun in her hands. “Sweet.” Darius removed a dart from the canvas quiver and showed her how to load it. He repeated to Charly everything Shig had told him.

  Charly stood in a wide stance and aimed the dart gun out the window behind Darius, closing one eye. “So how soon do I get to use this puppy?”

  Darius laughed. “As soon as you get your ass out to the fuel depot. Now we’re just waiting on Trip’s ship.”

  Holly watched them, the v-screen in her hands forgotten. She’d been using a program to record the various parts in their scheme to rescue the children. It was a complicated plan. Nothing they’d done thus far had required so much forethought. The parts that needed to work together, and smoothly, in order to not completely fuck it up were varied and unrelated, such as what she’d tasked Dave with—finding a place for them to stay during the search for their parents, and the other half of that, finding a minder for the children on the base and then on the ship as well. These weren’t jobs her team was trained to do.

  She glanced idly at Shiro who also watched the two crew members messing around with the tranquilizer gun. There was a strange, pained expression on his face. Twisted, as though he were biting his tongue to hold back a thought. He held a small espresso cup in his fingers and the saucer that it came with in the other hand. He leaned against the table holding the assortment of drink options with his lionhead cane balanced and dangling from the forearm holding the saucer.

  Holly rose from the armchair and went to his side. He glanced at her, surprised, and then tried to smooth his expression over with a wide grin. But the anxiety lingered in his eyes and the slightly downturned corners of his mouth.

  “What’s going on?” She questioned him softly.

  “Nothing. Nothing.”

  She studied his eyes. They were soft and friendly, which had been one of the first things that drew her to him, despite the affectations that were his way of interacting. She recalled the watch that she’d had Angelo fix and wondered if she’d ever give it to him. At the moment, she was inclined to simply throw it away, like he’d initially asked of her. She cleared her throat and focused on the matter at hand: the concern written all over his face. “Shiro. I can see it. Something’s bothering you.”

  He sighed and sipped the rest of his espresso. “Fine. You are correct, Ms. Drake. Something is bothering me. But I hesitate to tell you, because my track record has been on the decline for quite some time now. And this will only make it worse.”

  Holly steeled herself to hear that he was quitting and joining up with Voss or something equally stupid. “Just tell me. Whatever it is, we can work it out. Right?”

  He laughed awkwardly and looked away. The lines at the corners of his eyes when he grinned self-consciously twisted something in her gut but she pushed it away.

  “My friend? The one with the Really Big Ship, as we’ve been calling it?”

  She nodded.

  “This morning he informed me that we can no longer use the Really Big Ship.”

  Holly kept her face expressionless for a moment, then smiled. “Well, I can’t say that I’m not frustrated. But, look. That’s how this stuff goes. Did he say why?”

  Shiro cocked his head to one side. “Not really. I think he might not have known what we needed it for in the first place. And I might have mentioned it over drinks last night. Then he withdrew the offer. It’s an unfortunate problem, isn’t it? The mission is already a failure thanks to me, and we haven’t even started.”

  The rest of the crew had gotten quiet and they were all looking at Holly and Shiro. Odeon’s hand was poised above the stringed instrument like he would begin playing at any minute, and Darius and Charly had stopped in their study of the tranquilizer gun and were pointedly watching Shiro, pitying looks on their faces.

  “Shiro, please. This is how all of our missions have been. We’ll adapt,” Holly said.

  “Ms. Drake, far be it from me to tell you how to run the crew, but I think perhaps with my recent string of failures, that I should be replaced. That’s what a good leader would do,” he said, putting his saucer and espresso cup down. His eyes were on the floor as he stood and slipped his cane into his hand and the held it in both like a staff.

  Odeon cleared his throat. “Yes, I think that’s probably a good idea.”

  Shiro shot him a look. “Odeon, come on, that’s not helpful.”

  Odeon laughed and began plucking the strings and humming.

  “Odeon never does anything wrong or makes mistakes. He’s right, however.”

  “He’s being intentionally ridiculous. You’re not getting kicked off the crew, Shiro. We’re a family. A tribe. A crew. We’ve saved each other. We trust each other. And some things are beyond our control, like what others do. There was no way we could have known your friend would back out of the deal. Not cool. But we’ll live.”

  “Guys,” Charly said, stopping Holly. “We could get a tanker. A tanker. Let’s use one. It’s perfect.”

  Holly and Darius laughed.

  “What? I”m serious,” Charly said, taking the dart out of the gun and putti
ng it back into the canvas pouch.

  “You are?” HOlly asked.

  Shiro began to pace, swinging the cane like a sword and then twirling it like a baton as he paced back and forth. “She has a point. What would that require? More fuel than previously planned.”

  “Someone who knows how to fly one. A crew, probably,” Darius said, furrowing his brow and clasping his hands together and touching his lips with both of his forefingers. He bowed his head and began to pace in front his desk.

  “Where do we get a crew and a captain. Would that be a captain? I doubt Trip can fly one of those ships.”

  “Trip can fly anything,” Darius said.

  “But we’ll need her on her ship, probably,” Holly said.

  “Yes, especially because we’ll need to fly to wherever the tankers are to get one,” Shiro pointed out.

  “Does anyone know anything about a tanker? I know absolutely nothing, which is making me feel hesitant about this plan. Do any of you know someone with a bigger ship? Like Shiro’s friend?”

  “Drake, I think it would simply be a matter of getting the key codes to hack the controls on a tanker.”

  “That’s it?”

  “One component, yes,” Darius said.

  “So we steal the key codes and we’ve got a tanker?”

  Darius pursed his lips thoughtfully. “Pretty much. Depending on where we get it, it might even have fuel already. So we eliminate that headache.”

  “Damn, so I won’t get to use the tranquilizer gun? Bugger. I was really looking forward to that.”

  Odeon laughed, while Shiro glared at Odeon without him catching it for a moment. Holly knew she couldn’t make them like each other. The most she could hope for was that they’d get along. Besides, she needed to think about how they were going to steal a goddamn tanker now. On top of that she still had the other logistics to figure out as well—the child-minder, which tanker they would take, and now she had to think about how to steal key codes for a tanker. She sighed

  And find a pilot and a crew.

  TEN

  “OH thank Ixion,” Meg said when the door opened. “Get in here. I need your help.”

  “Yeah, that’s why I came, remember?” Holly followed Meg through the living area and the kitchen into the spare bedroom. They passed Lucy at the kitchen counter. “Hey Luce.”

  “Hi Holly,” Lucy said.

  “What are you working on?”

  “Some reading. For school.”

  “Good work, girl,” Holly said.

  “Come on, Holly,” Meg said from the bedroom. “Lucy still has to read for thirty more minutes. You’re distracting her.”

  Holly rolled her eyes for Lucy’s benefit, spun on her heel, and headed into the bedroom.

  “What’s going on, then, Meg?” Holly asked.

  “Painting. I told you on the phone.” When Meg got her mind set on a project, her focus was laser tight. It was clear from the set of her jaw and the way she shoved a paintbrush into Holly’s hand. “You get the corners. Cut in. I’m on roller duty.”

  Holly sighed. “Of course. Painting. Sorry I forgot.”

  “Mom’s moving back. She’s going to stay here.”

  “You’re our rock, Meg, I guess. Everyone counts on you.”

  “Can’t say it’s my favorite thing, but I don’t mind it. I just wish mom had never left in the first place.”

  Everything in the room was covered in canvas. The bed, the chair, the lamps. The plants had been moved out into the living area. Meg dipped her dropped her roller into the paint and began rolling it across the wall in large swathes of a pale green.

  “Is this your color choice?” Holly poured some paint into a cup and moved to the corner by the window.

  “Mom’s. She wanted something sort of neutral but cheery, but also in the current style. So then I told her to just send me the color she wanted because I wasn’t going to try to guess.”

  “Sounds about right, for mom. Hard to please.” The feeling of covering over the old paint with the new was soothing. Holly’s hand and brush moved up and down in the corner, leaving a trail of color that erased the past. She’d stayed in this room right after leaving prison. As she worked she imagined that she was rebuilding her own past, fixing the scars with a fresh, color that dulled the marks of the previous iteration of her existence.

  “Gabe is coming by to help too,” Meg said.

  “Why are you guys even divorced?” Holly asked, just laying it out there.

  “Because.”

  “That’s valid.”

  “I’ve told you before. You just forget because it’s not your life.” Meg turned from the wall and dipped the roller in the tray.

  The smell of paint overwhelmed the room. Holly set her brush down and opened the window. The roar of the city came in through window as well as a warm breeze. “You fought all the time?”

  Meg shrugged, turning back to the wall and rolled more paint on in green strips “That’s half of it.”

  “It’s your business. But arguing? Doesn’t everyone argue? Remember, I was in a very unhealthy relationship, so I might not know what I’m talking about.”

  “Yeah, let’s just not talk about it. I love Gabe. He’s a really good dad. He loves the hell out of Lucy and I couldn’t ask for more when it comes to that. But I do want more for myself.”

  Holly bit her lip. Meg had said she didn’t want to talk about it. Yet, she said more. And now there was a question burning just behind Holly’s teeth. It was like a flame pushing against her lips and if she didn’t let it out, she was going to burn. “You want someone who doesn’t argue? Who just takes you as the queen and doesn’t fight back?” Oh, Meg wasn’t going to like that, and Holly knew it.

  Meg didn’t take the bait. “Nice try.”

  “You know I’m right.”

  “You know you’re a brat.”

  “I am. But still right.”

  “I want someone who isn’t a dick about everything. Who isn’t paranoid about closed in spaces, who’s easy going.”

  “That’s every girl’s dream until she gets it. And then she wishes her man stood up to her just a bit and wanted to stay inside and be cozy with her all the time. Kidding about that last part. But let’s be honest, the best passion is in the struggle.”

  “Whatever, Holly. You’re a romantic and that’s just shit.”

  They were saved from a full-blown fight by Gabe striding into the room.

  “Luce let me in.” Gabe had his arm around his daughter, who now came to his shoulder. “What are you ladies fighting about?”

  “Gabe!” Holly said, striding across the room to give him a careful hug so that she didn’t spill the paint or get it on him.

  He laughed and returned the hug.

  “Hey Gabe,” Meg said, greeting him with a curt smile. “Make yourself useful? Lucy get back to your reading. You can help when you’re finished.”

  Lucy groaned and went back into the living area.

  “A bit hard on her, eh, Meg?” Gabe asked.

  “Don’t start with me,” Meg said without turning from the wall she was vigorously covering with paint. “One of us needs to keep her on track and push her. Otherwise she’d never do anything all day.”

  Holly watched Gabe grimace as though he were biting back his response.

  “Well, then,” Holly said, awkwardly. She handed him a spare brush. “I guess you could start with the brushwork.”

  He smiled at her, but there was tension in his eyes. “Right then.”

  The three of them painted in silence for a few minutes, then Gabe stopped. “I have some news Holly. Did Meg tell you yet?”

  “Not really. No. What’s the news?”

  “Odeon’s given us some feedback on the mole. Nothing that will stick yet, but enough to know that we’re on the right track with who we’ve determined it is.” He grunted as he stretched to reach the top corner. “The other thing is that we’ve drudged up enough to know that not a single soul outside of the Shadow Co
alition has seen the Heart.”

  “I’ve heard that’s because if someone does, they either get killed or their rank increases so that they never have contact with anyone outside the Shadow Coalition. That way the Heart is protected.” Holly rested the brush in the cup as she wiped a bit of green off the window as she worked on the sill.

  “But maybe there isn’t a Heart,” Meg said. “Maybe it’s just the hands, and the heart is a cover. Like in that old story. Oz? Something like that.”

  “In that story there’s a person behind the story, though, I thought? Someone who pulls the strings and keeps up the facade.”

  “What are you suggesting, then?” Gabe asked. “That there’s a person who is the heart, but the whole concept is that it’s just to keep the lower level ranks in their organization in line?”

  Meg glanced back at Holly, pausing with the roller up on the wall. “Yes, maybe that.”

  Holly sighed. “Doesn’t matter anyway. I’m going to find the hands and this supposed heart. And they might die. I’m not sure. I haven’t decided yet.”

  Gabe laughed. “You can’t just kill people, Holly.”

  She gave him a look.

  “Well, I know you’ve done it, you bad-ass you, but what happened with Graf you did for a good reason. And it was self-defense.” He gave her a sideways look. “It was, wasn’t it?”

  “Of course it was, Gabe.”

  “I’m not saying that if something happens to them—“ he began.

  “Gabe, no, please.” Meg said, cutting him off.

  Holly shrugged, and looked at the floor. “I don’t even know if we’ll get back to the stupid base, anyway.”

  Gabe studied her. “Why not?”

  “All our plans keep falling through. At the moment, we’re looking for a way to hijack a tanker—“ she stopped when she caught their disapproving stares. “Just for a minute. And it’s for a good cause. If it even happens. It’s to save the children. There are thousands trapped on the base still. We need a ship that can carry them back to Kota.”

  “I see,” Meg said, turning back to continue painting. “Then yes, you’d need a large ship for that. A zeppelin.