by Power, P. S.
Luckily, other than her, they didn't.
Chapter thirteen
It was oddly nerve wracking, trying to get to the mountain town of Hilden in time. Especially for Pran. It took most of a day and a bit just to get to Marshal, the outpost that had the medicine pack they needed, and then they had to wait for special dispensation to come from the High Council in order to get it, they were told, several times by a rather stern seeming fellow. The thing itself wasn't very impressive, being in a plain wooden box that was painted white and red. It was about seven feet long, and had four handles sticking out of it, like sticks, one on each corner. They were made of metal and banded into place, which made it all seem sturdy enough, but a bit too official for her taste.
She went with Clark, Mara and Bill to get it, so was standing there when the warehouse manager came over.
He had a nicely trimmed beard and was fit looking enough, wearing warm clothing that was trimmed with fur. Over all it was a functional style of dress, but with a few ribbons it could have been perked up into something she could have worn, in the right conditions, Pran decided. That was about the only thing good about the man though, and he let them know that by speaking down to them almost instantly.
"You will not touch that pack until the clearance arrives! You Guardians always think that your issues overrule common sense and procedure, and I won't have it!" He brandished a clip board at them, and made a special point of waving it at her. Probably because she was the smallest person in black, which meant the safest. She also wasn't armed, in particular.
That meant safe too, no doubt.
The others didn't speak fast enough, so she spread her hands and raised them, palm up. It was a very helpless and weak look, but the man relaxed, just a bit, and actually stood back a half step, not understanding why that was.
"Ah, well, that will be coming in a moment I'm sure. This is for the town of Hilden? They have some kind of fever or plague. I don't suppose you have direct contact with the High Council from here however?" She had no clue how that worked, but it would let the man inform her, no doubt.
He managed to sound angry still, and made two steps toward her, bringing himself into arm's reach of her. On the good side he didn't try to touch her, just use his nearly six foot frame to loom over her, looking down. Pran made herself smile, waiting.
"Most assuredly I do! The fast coach will be by in the morning and we can send word off to them. We'll have an answer inside two weeks."
Mara's face went dark, as if she were about to argue the point with the man, and Clark was so stoic that it was hard to tell what he was going to do, but she waved a hand casually at the female Guardian and then walked to the banded chest, laying a hand on the top of it, to signal ownership. Hopefully it would play on the man's mind, without him noticing it.
"In two weeks, everyone in Hilden will most likely be dead, sir. I... Sorry, what did you say your name was?"
"I didn't. Morten Hough. Council Warehouse Manager." The man sighed and shook his head. "I suppose that you're going to yell at me about how lives outweigh paperwork and demand that I release this to you even without permission?"
Pran shrugged.
"No, I'll just ask you this, Manager Hough... Do lives outweigh paperwork? Do you think the Council will back you in this, if you let Hilden, the dying town, have these life saving medicines? If not, then we'll understand, and go away. It's up to you however. Their lives rest on your shoulders." She nearly reached out and touched his shoulders, but realized that might seem a bit too flirtatious, so she tapped the clipboard gently once. "The power of life and death is right there, in your hands. It's a heavy thing, isn't it? Dragging on you, when you have to make the call. There's no time to be wrong either. What you say here is the only grace that those people are going to get."
Pran didn't move for a bit, but did try to look politely encouraging, even as Mara was clearly getting ready to set upon the man and just take the box without waiting for even a radio signal to get through. After all, if worse truly came to it, they could take Morten Hough to The Lament and let him talk to whoever was needed to make it all work. They might lose several hours that way, but it wouldn't be two weeks.
Morten Hough made a very unpleasant noise then, sounding very much like he was trying not to soil himself. It was a drawn out groan, and lasted nearly ten seconds. A very long time for something like that. Too long, if it had been done on stage, Pran decided. She was put into a mood for comedy by the end, which didn't fit the scene at all.
"Fine! I demand you sign for it, to prove you were here! All of you. I-"
Pran nodded, "done. Where do we put our names?"
That got him to hurry along, and they were halfway out of the warehouse, walking with the middling heavy box of medical supplies before she heard the man mutter behind them.
"Apprentice Bard?" Morten said it loudly enough that Mara grunted and winked over her shoulder.
"If it makes you feel any better, she is the High Bard Councilor's Apprentice."
There was a soft and muttered "oh" and he didn't call for them to stop at all, so they made best time back to The Lament. It was instructive, at least to Pran.
The box didn't feel that heavy, but she had to carry it high, bending her arms, just to match Bill on the other side of the thing. Mara was on her side, and only a bit taller than she was, so it wasn't so bad that way, but Clark, on the other side had to walk half bent over. It was two Kilometers back to the airship, and they hadn't taken time to get a wagon out, which meant they were on foot. The ground was soft under them in places, but had stone near the depot, which made Bill and her stumble occasionally.
Her hands hurt by the time they were halfway to their destination. This was on flat ground too, not walking up a mountain. Finally Bill called out.
"Set 'er down for a bit? My hands are like to cramp up."
The Guardians both looked at him as if he were sub-human, but Pran didn't. She just nodded and shook her own hands out as soon as she could.
"We'll need something to help with that on the trip into Hilden. My hands have been cramping for ten minutes. I can rig a carry strap that will go over our shoulders? It might help a bit. Probably chafe at the neck, but-"
Clark grunted, his deep voice sounding smooth in the dim twilight.
"You have about a day to get something around. Good thinking. The less resting we have to do, the faster they get what they need. For now we don't have that. Can you two manage for the next Kilometer?"
Pran spoke for them both, since it was clear, looking at his face, that Bill didn't really think he could take the pain.
"We will. Don't worry about us. We can do it." For this part. Bill wasn't going with them up a mountain, she decided. Not because he was too weak, but because he just gave up too easily.
Really, if he'd been around, she would have picked Zeke as the other person on the team. Mission accomplishment. The man might not be on their side, but if he needed to get up a mountain side, he would, no matter what. It was a driven kind of thing, but one that Pran could understand.
They didn't have him though, and Paul, the First Mate, was down with a bum leg for the time being. So who did that leave that might make it? She was thinking about it when Bill nearly dropped his side, a quarter of a Kilometer further on.
"Sorry, my hands stopped working." He cursed a bit, using more colorful language than was strictly proper, unless you'd been mortally wounded, but other than being entertaining, it meant they were sort of stuck for a bit.
Except, she was there, along with two Guardians. They didn't do stuck well, did they?
Clark growled at her, his voice sounding nearly angry for once. That was a rare enough thing that it got her attention, and Bill's, she thought.
"Pran, get up here and take my position. Bill... Keep up." There was actually disdain in his voice for the man, which wasn't really fair. He was only a ship's mate, not a Guardian, after all. They worked hard, but this was a special situation.
&nb
sp; Still, she jogged into place, putting her hands on the warm and slightly damp metal bar where Clark had been holding the thing, as he moved to the back and lifted, doing the work of two people. Then he started to call out commands. He was bossy that way, but it worked pretty well.
"Half meter steps. Left foot first. Left, right, left." Then he kept calling it out, speeding up a bit as they went, as Bill jogged a little to keep up. The older man wasn't happy at all, it was clear, but his misery seemed to be turned inward, rather than out. When they got back to the white expanse of the airship, shining softly in the moonlight, they didn't slow, going around to the back end, so they could get the medicine pack inside. Bill opened the doors for them, but left almost immediately, once they had it tied down into place. Then Mara ran off, vanishing like the guardians did, moving so unexpectedly that Pran didn't see where she was until she caught a glimpse, all the way across the room. They were in the large goods area, so the space was vast. It was only that the inside door was closed, really, that let Pran see what the Female Guardian was up to.
Clark sighed.
"We need to replace Bill for the actual trip. Can you get those straps you were talking about? That will make it easier. One for each of us. Do you think your friend Roy is up to it? We'll be colder. This time of year there will be snow on the mountains. We need warm clothing and some food, water skins, all that. We need to have it, but also travel light." He left her, wandering off then, probably to go and get all that around. For her part, she felt at a loss for a moment, then shrugged, knowing that no one would be able to see her at all.
Then she went to engineering.
It was a large, hot and fairly loud place. Not deafening, but the metal parts clicked and clanked, and the small spaces between things meant that she had to call out, trying to make herself heard.
"Roy?"
She said it three times before the young man with his monkey face popped out from under a bit of equipment, holding a large silver wrench.
"Pran? Is something up? We're about to take off, I was just checking the oil seals on the bearing housings, for the main propeller. It's tight, but constant inspection and repair leads to a running ship." That bit was said as if an actual saying, rather than him just sharing a fact with her.
She looked around and then wiped a bit of sweat from her brow. It really was warm in this part of the vessel, she noticed, even though there was no open flame at all.
"Clark wants you for the carry team, going up the Mountain. Bill isn't going to work. Can you do it?"
He looked at her from the deck, which was dark stained wood in this area and seemed to be considering it.
"Can you?"
"Probably. I'm going to make some straps, so that we won't have to lift with our hands the whole time. It's going to hurt and we can't stop, even if we can't go on."
After a bit there was a soft chuckle and he scrambled out from under the long metal rectangle he was under.
"Well, with an invitation like that, who could refuse? I'll do it. As long as the Captain is fine with it, I mean. I don't really get to leave the ship without permission."
Pran looked at him, but then nodded. He had an actual job here after all, unlike her. Of course he had rules to follow. She would too, once she got to Bard Clarice.
"I'll go and set that up. Thanks. Bill... I think he feels bad about not being able to do it, so, try not to brag too much about it. We don't want to make him feel bad." She was joking, since no sane person would want to do what they were going to try, but the boy smiled a bit sadly and nodded anyway, as if it were a real issue.
"Yeah. Poor guy. Well, I need to check the maneuvering blades before we take off. That means going outside." He walked away, and didn't even look back at her, as interested in his work as he seemed.
Pran watched his rear as he did it, remembering the other night. It was strange, but she felt a warm feeling about it, instead of fear or anger. He'd been kind to her and it was nice, she decided. A good thing.
She jogged, carefully, to find the Captain, who was pretty busy and looked ready to bark at her when she stepped onto the Bridge, that didn't really show in her tone at least, which was nearly friendly. She even managed a smile, after a fashion.
"Bard Pran? Do we need more cookies in the mess hall? Or softer pillows?" She laughed then and so did the other people on the Bridge, including Paul, though he at least looked like he was teasing her.
She smiled, getting that it was a Bard thing. They were assuming that she was coming to complain about some personal comfort issue? Except they knew better, so it was the opposite really. They were making fun of her oddness, and how she was different than other Bards.
Fine. She nodded at the Captain.
"If you could see to that? Also, I need Apprentice Roy for the trip into Hilden. That and some leather or rope, or ideally both, for carrying straps for the med pack. But cookies would be good too. I'm pretty happy with my current pillow however." She waited, but the woman didn't smile, she just looked at Paul and then the woman that was at the actual controls of the ship.
"Do it. Sign out what you need, but use it. If you can't find something, ask Roy. Darla, we'll need you in engines, starting eight hours before we get in. Roy will need to sleep, if he can."
The woman was a bit older looking too, but only a little, being in her twenties or so, and having long light brown hair. She was kind of normal looking, but had a distinctive nose that actually stuck up at the top line. It was the one feature that made her slightly memorable, though outside of seeing her on occasion at meals, Pran knew nothing about her.
"Aye, Captain."
Mina looked at Pran and raised her eyebrows.
"Anything else?"
"Not for now, thank you. I'm sure there will be something eventually. There always is, isn't there? Reality always making us do stuff." She faked a sigh and a hangdog look, because Bards were supposed to entertain. It was literally what their job description was.
Some thought it was about making art, but that was wrong. They did that too, but it was a side occupation. They were there to make people feel like life was worth living, when you cut through all the other garbage and trappings, meant to make them look good.
The Captain smiled, her face relaxing a bit.
"That it does, Bard Pran, that it does."
With a wave, she got off the Bridge, since it was clear they were looking to take off and that meant using bells to get the rope crews into place. Half the time it seemed like they did that in the dark, too, which was a little odd. Of course that could have been due to the fact that the last weeks had been filled with attacks and techno-cultists, rather than the way the business of airship travel was actually run, day to day.
Pran had hours before she needed to sleep, and it didn't take her that long to get the harnesses ready. They were just ropes after all, doubled up for strength, and with a leather pad that had old rags wrapped inside them so that their necks and shouldn't rub too much. The hard part was making sure the lengths were all correct, and marking them so that they'd know who was supposed to get which one. If it worked, then they'd all be carrying the box standing up, rather than at different levels for each of them.
She had an idea and added a set of wooden handles for Clark, so that he could hold his side without bending over. That they'd want to use their hands to take part of the stress made sense to her at least. If not, well, it didn't add a lot of weight and gave her something to do, while she waited. When she went to bed, Roy wasn't there and in the morning, when she got up, he was still gone. Unless he'd managed to come in, sleep and get up again. His job didn't go all night like that, so she realized that he must have slept somewhere else.
That...
It didn't leave her feeling all that great, she realized. They hadn't signed a contract or gotten married, or even talked about doing more than they had in a passing fashion. She knew that, and intellectually agreed with the idea. She was leaving in a few weeks, provided they didn't die on the
mountain, and that meant...
She shrugged.
What it really meant was that she was jealous, and had no right to be.
After she ate and showered, she went to find Doctor Millis, who might, or might not, be awake for the day. He was in the sick room, puttering about, reading from books it seemed.
He looked up and smiled, happily, like he always did. Almost always.
"Ah, Bard Pran, is everything all right? You're well? I know the stress of the last weeks must be wearing on you. Please, come in, have a seat." He actually stood and closed the door, while she pulled a chair up. He didn't keep going until she was settled in. "Really now, are you doing well?"
She was touched at his concern, but was able to nod.
"Except that Roy is sleeping with someone else, I think. That's his right, but-" She was being a whining little bitch, was what.
Except that Doctor Millis seemed to understand.
"Yes, that's always a problem, when people are involved. We know what the rules are, and even desire to follow them, but a lot of social constructs don't work on the biological level very well. Do you wish to talk about it? Or other things?" That last bit came out slightly sly, as if he was indicating the men that had escaped.
She shrugged.
"Well, Guardian Clark, Mara and Judge Claire all know that you're one of those techno-cult people. A Download. Guardian Clark was already informed about that, and had the job here in order to watch you, specifically. They helped cover up the escape, so I could gain your trust. The plan is for Clark and the others to find your secret stronghold and to kill you all. No one wants to do it, but you're doing too good of a job this time, trying to take over." She let the truth hit the man, and watched him closely, but he just sat in slight shock for a bit and then leaned back, smiling.
"Ah. Well, I'd already figured out about Guardian Clark, but I didn't know that you'd tell me about it. I actually wondered if you'd beaten my truth serum. It shouldn't be possible, but you're a very clever young lady."