by Regina Riley
“Well ain’t you the observant one?” Magpie laughed aloud. “Naw, girly, you’re doing it right. I’ll bet the farm your readings are good.”
“I don’t see how. What business could we have all the way out here?”
“I don’t rightly know myself. I reckon the captain will tell us when she’s good and ready.”
“I suppose so. Do you have any idea why we’re flying so close to the water?”
“Maybe that has something to do with it.” Magpie pointed over Gabriella’s shoulder.
Gabriella turned once again to face the vast ocean.
To the tropical coastline moving steadily toward them.
In the excitement of the view, Gabriella forgot her homesickness. If the navicom hadn’t lied, then the coastline in the distance wasn’t just another familiar port. The land she was squinting at was someplace new. Somewhere she had never set foot on before. The thought of it was terribly, terribly exciting. After all, she hadn’t ran away from home, not to mention the altar, only to be tethered to some foul smelling port, waiting around for someone to trust the crew enough to hire them.
Yet that was just how she had spent the last six months.
When she’d first joined the Widow, the captain explained that employment was few and far between for the all female crew. Gabriella thought she’d understood. She appreciated that a freelance shipping crew had to take what work was offered, when it was offered. She imagined the crew’s downtime was filled with exciting trips to foreign countries or distant islands.
Shopping in Paris. Lunching in Madrid. Relaxing in Timbuktu.
It turned out there was no downtime. When they weren’t on a legitimate job, the girls trolled the lowest, filthiest ports of the East Coast looking for work. Gabriella felt like a common streetwalker, passing out pamphlets or hanging flyers. Even worse than that was her turn at standing watch. All day confined to the deck of the Widow just to ensure no one unwelcome boarded. Which was ridiculous because the crews of the other ships gave the Widow a wide berth with or without a guard.
“Good morning, ladies,” Jax said.
Gabriella turned away from the promise land of beach when the tall blonde joined her at the railing. “Morning, Jax. We’ve arrived. Somewhere.”
“Yes,” Jax answered. Her voice pulsed in a thick, foreign inflection of rolling consonants paired with throaty vowels. “I see that for myself. I wondered why no one showed for the breaking of the fast. I thought I was to eat alone.”
Magpie cleared her throat. “That would be my fault. The captain requested that we gather on the deck. I imagine the rest of the crew is on their way up.”
To say that Jax frowned was quite the understatement. Jax’s mouth seemed set in a permanent frown, so when she deliberately frowned, it was dramatic. Like a scowl with a healthy side of grimace and just a touch of glower.
“So you fetch rest of crew? Did you forget Jax?”
“No, no.” Magpie laughed for a moment. “Lordy, how could anyone forget about you, woman? I was just about to mosey down to the kitchen and tell you, but I got waylaid by Guppy here.”
Jax turned her scowl on Gabriella. “I am first mate. I should be given messages before fledgling recruits.”
Gabriella shrank while sky blue eyes bore down on her with burning hatred. Gabriella didn’t know much about Jax except that she was a top rate scowler and a professional sneerer. Her exotic accent placed her origin in or around Romania, yet her blond hair and blue eyes belied this. The fact that she was first mate made sense because she was shrewd, strong, and deviously clever. Her position in the kitchen, however, was a mystery. Jax was the worst cook Gabriella had ever seen in action. Maybe it was the very qualities that made her an excellent first mate that also kept folks from telling her how horrible her cooking was.
“Don’t take this out on her,” Magpie said. “I tried to raise you on the tubes, but you bang them pots and pans so loud you never hear me. Guppy here just happened to be on the way.”
“Maybe,” Jax said. She narrowed her eyes at Gabriella, switching from glare to glower in one smooth move. “Maybe I will remember this when lunch time returns. Guppy is allergic to the fish with shells? Yes?”
“Maybe,” Magpie said in a sterner voice, “you should just let it go.”
Jax turned her gaze back to Magpie. The two women locked stares. Gabriella worried her skirt between her shaking hands.
The big blonde puffed out her chest, drew herself to her full height, and put on her best sneer.
“Maybe, you would like to argue with fists?”
“And maybe,” a younger woman said, “Guppy should fight her own fights.”
“Girls,” a much older woman added, “that’s enough of that.”
The first voice belonged to the ship’s tinker, Jayne Octasept. She was just a tiny slip of a girl, all freckle-faced and blue-eyed, with a surprising shock of snow-white hair. Jayne reminded Gabriella of her own father—genius, yet socially inept. Yet unlike her father, Gabriella just couldn’t seem to get along with Jayne, no matter how much she tried. Gabriella loved and missed her father more than anyone else...but that life was over. These people were her family now, and she had to make it work.
The other voice belonged to the resident medic, Dorothy Johnson, or Dot as she preferred to be addressed. The gray headed, stooped at the shoulders, porcelain doll, frail matron looked like she should have been home knitting socks for her grandchildren instead of sailing around the world playing the part of an airship’s surgeon. Dot wasn’t just the ship’s medic. She was the crew’s moral compass too. One of Dot’s severe looks would set your blood cold, forcing you to consider the difference between right, wrong, and whatever it was you thought you were going to do.
The appearance of the rest of the crew snapped the tension of the moment. Jax stepped away with a sharp snort, stalking a few feet down the railing. She turned her back, pretending to ignore the others.
“What’s up her nose?” Jayne asked.
“I’m afraid I might have offended her sensitive nature,” Magpie said.
The women paused for a moment before breaking into a wave of cackling laughter. Jax looked over her shoulder with a glare, which only pressed them to laugh harder. Gabriella grinned at the idea that a woman as stoic as Jax could have anything that resembled a sensitive side.
“I’m glad you’re in high spirits,” Captain Rose said.
“Captain on deck!” Jax shouted.
The small crew of the Widow snapped to attention, falling into a neat line.
Chapter 2
Stand and Deliver
In which we learn of the dubious job our captain has undertaken on our behalf.
Captain Rose Madigan strode across the deck, eyeing her crew while giving them a wide, knowing smile. Although she was nearly a foot shorter than Jax, she somehow seemed taller. She dressed in the same drab brown as the rest of the crew, setting off the woman’s fiery red hair and sea green eyes. The captain was everything Gabriella wasn’t—worldly, charming, and most of all beautiful.
“Stand down, ladies.” The captain smirked. “If I wanted to spend the morning being saluted, I would have stayed in bed with Click.”
The crew relaxed into easy laughter.
“As you’re all aware,” the captain said, “we’ve arrived.”
A general grunt of approval rounded the women.
Dot raised an eyebrow. “Where exactly have we arrived?”
“Guppy,” the captain said.
Gabriella swallowed hard. “Yes?”
“Would you please tell the crew where we are?” the captain commanded.
Gabriella turned to Jayne, who looked on with an amused smile.
“Guppy?” the captain asked.
Fidgeting, Gabriella cleared her throat before she said, “Based on a rough estimate of our longitude and latitude, and our relative position on the navicom, I guess we’re somewhere in the South Pacific Ocean.”
“You guess?” The ca
ptain crossed her arms, looking down at Gabriella as if expecting more.
Gabriella could only nod. Give her a sextant or just the stars and she could plot a worldwide course to her heart’s content. Without proper training on Jayne’s crazy contraption, Gabriella’s mathematical mind was useless. There was no way she could be sure the readings were correct. No way could she answer her captain with anything more than just a guess.
The captain crossed the deck with slow, deliberate steps, her boots clapping hollow against the planks. She came to a halt, looming over Gabriella. “Young lady, did I hire you to guess? Or did I hire you to navigate my ship?”
Gabriella lowered her gaze. “Navigate your ship, sir. But Jayne won’t show me how to properly—”
“Don’t blame your incompetence on me, little rich girl.” Jayne scowled.
“But—”
The captain lifted her hand, silencing Gabriella mid-excuse. “I put it to you again. Where are we?”
Gabriella drew a deep breath. “We are currently located in the South Pacific Ocean. Sir.”
The captain’s firm frown shifted into a partial grin. “Good girl.”
Gabriella smiled while her insides uncoiled.
“Big deal,” Jayne said, clearly annoyed by the captain’s show of confidence in Gabriella’s favor. “We’ve been in this area plenty of times.”
“What is work now?” Jax asked. “Are we to return Click to his native soil? Get big reward for saving chastity of entire western culture?”
Laughter rolled across the Widow. The crew enjoyed the jab at the oversized cabin boy.
“Ladies,” the captain said. “I have kept the point and purpose of our employment from you long enough. Magpie? The details, if you please.”
Magpie stepped up to point at the distant shore. “That island you’re all looking at has no name, no known residents, and no clear ownership. It lies between so many borders that it would be impossible to pin down which nation has rightful claim, but the point is moot because most countries aren’t even aware of its existence. It is, however, the last known home of the infamous Doctor Grant Loquacious.” She paused, expecting a response.
Gabriella didn’t recognize the name. She glanced at the others, relieved to see everyone else also looked confused. Except the tinker.
“No,” Jayne said, her eyes widening as she stared across the waters. “It can’t be.” For a moment, her face lit with incomprehensible joy
“I thought you would have heard of him,” the captain said.
The moment Jayne realized she was the subject of scrutiny, the smiled faded to a cool smirk. “Doctor Loco?” She shrugged, insinuating the familiarity she took with the man’s name was nothing. “Sure, I’ve heard of him. Any cogsmith worth her weight has heard of Loco. The tales say he’s nuttier than a fruitcake, and the president himself had the man locked up to preserve the safety of humanity. I heard he could slap together a mechanism like nobody’s business. If he’s on that island, then we’re all in for a treat. A crazy, mad filled treat, granted, but a treat nonetheless.”
“I hate to disappoint you,” the captain said. “He isn’t on the island. At least not anymore.”
“That’s a shame. I would’ve loved to meet the man. I wonder what became of him.”
“From what I’ve been told, the president tried to put him away. For good.”
“Real genius is never truly appreciated.”
“Actually,” Magpie said, “there was some proof that he was linked to Mr. Booth’s attack on our Lincoln’s life last year.”
“That doesn’t sound like him,” Jayne said. “I heard he wasn’t really big on political garbage.
Besides, I thought they topped everyone involved with that.”
“Topped?” Gabriella asked.
Jayne pulled an imaginary noose tight around her neck. Her eyes rolled, looking heavenward while her tongue protruded obscenely from her mouth. Gabriella frowned at the garish display.
“Yes,” Magpie agreed. “No one’s been able to find the doctor since, or any trace of his whereabouts. It’s as though the man has vanished from the face of the earth.”
“Now that sounds like him,” Jayne said.
“If world famous doctor is not here,” Jax said, “then why are we?”
“Because,” the captain said, “although the doctor has moved along, we believe he left something behind.”
Jayne’s eyes went wide again. “His lab?”
The captain gave a curt nod.
“Intact?” the tinker asked as her forehead scrunched.
“There’s a good chance,” the captain answered, with another nod.
The tinker rubbed her grease smeared hands together in what Gabriella thought was a most unbecoming manner for a young lady. “Oh my. My, my, my. Captain, you have no idea what this means.”
The captain rolled her eyes. “Yes, Jayne, I rather think I do.”
Jayne swallowed hard enough for Gabriella to hear. The redness in her cheeks and meek look on her face showed that she was remembering her place. The other woman tipped her head to the captain. “Yes, sir. Of course you do.”
“In fact,” the captain said, “we aren’t here just to plunder the missing man’s lab. We’re here for something very specific. We have been hired to locate and return with one of the doctor’s creations. Some kind of artifact.”
“Artifact?” Gabriella echoed.
“What kind of artifact?” Dot asked.
“You officially know everything I do,” the captain said. “The employer said we would know it when we saw it.”
“We don’t know what we’re after?” Gabriella asked.
“Not really,” the captain said. She raised an eyebrow. “Sounds like fun. Doesn’t it?”
Gabriella was forced to agree. It did, indeed, sound like fun.
Magpie raised her hand. “Permission to speak freely, sir.”
The captain sighed. “As though I could stop you.”
“Who are we working for?” Magpie asked.
“Is it so important?” the captain asked, her voice taking on a clipped edge.
Unlike Gabriella, Magpie neither fidgeted nor squirmed under the captain’s scrutiny.
Someday, Gabriella knew she would stand just as firm in the face of authority. She just knew it.
“Yes,” Magpie said. “I think it does matter. Especially since we really don’t know what we are after. Maybe if we knew who we were employed by, we’d have a fairer time of finding whatever it is we are looking for.”
With a sigh, the captain turned away from the crew. She strode to the far side of the deck and stooped over the railing, grasping it with both hands, staring overboard at the water below.
Gabriella knew it wasn’t out of form for the captain to keep the name of an employer to herself.
Especially if the work in question was questionable. Ransacking an island for a mysterious artifact sounded dubious to the debutante in Gabriella.
After several moments of breathless anticipation, the captain returned. In a flat voice she said, “Madame Ruby.”
The crew gave a collective gasp. Everyone, that was, except Gabriella.
She had no idea what all the gasping was about.
* * * *
The women stood on the deck, staring open mouthed at Rose. It didn’t take long for the wide-eyed gaping to turn into frustrated grimaces. While the crew hated the idea of working for Ruby, Rose despised it. She had lost more than a few good nights’ sleep over the whole affair. When it came down to it, there was no other choice. With employment at a premium, any job was a good job. She only hoped the girls could see the logic of it.
Magpie covered her face with both hands. She groaned. “I thought that last carrier pigeon was from The Red House.”
“I’m not working for that woman,” Jayne said.
“Madame Ruby asked for us by name,” Rose responded.
“That hussy?” Dot asked.
“Yes, that hussy,” Rose said. “Sh
e made us a very generous offer for very little work, so I took it.”
“I wouldn’t take her money if my life depended on it,” Jayne snapped.
“It may very well be,” Rose answered.
“She’s right,” Magpie agreed. “We haven’t had a real job in almost six months, the food stores are pitiful, our sundries are nearly all used up, and I’m guessing the fuel has seen better days.”
“We might get another few days out of the coal we have,” Jayne admitted. “If we don’t stop and get some more soon, the boilers will run cold. We’ll be back on the sails.”
It had been a while since the ship had to run on sails, but everyone aboard knew it was a less than desirable state to be in. While the giant airbag kept the ship in the sky, it was the massive props on either side of the vessel that gave her movement and control. A complex array of complicated boilers in her belly provided the necessary steam to push the propellers about, but if needed, the ship could cast sails from runners that lined her sides, harnessing the wind. Yet Rose would do whatever it took to keep from resorting to the sails. Such an act was not only hard work, it was also unrewarding in terms of lift and power.
“The sails won’t get us a quarter of the speed we need to keep up with the competition,”
Magpie said. “We’re near dead in the water without more fuel.”
“And there is no stopping for fuel,” Rose said. “Because there’s no money for it Soon, there won’t be any funds left. The fact of the matter is simple. If we don’t complete this job...” She paused to look down, as if unable to face her crew when she said, “I’ll have to let all of you go.”
A chorus of “no” rose from every throat.
“Captain,” Magpie said, “I think I speak for everyone here when I say that we don’t just consider this ship a place of work. We consider it our home.”
Nods all around agreed.
Warmed by their dedication, Rose’s lips twitched ever so slightly. Loyalty, however, didn’t pay the bills. “I appreciate the sentiment, but the fact of the matter remains. We are a working crew, and we need to accept employment if we wish to remain in the sky.”