The Finger of God: a Thalassia novel

by Patrick McClafferty

Dawn thought crisply. He could almost feel her concentration. The voice gave the mental equivalent of a shrug.

  “Ah! What did you do?” Doander clasped his hands to his head, his face screwed up in surprise and pain. The surprise was replaced with a dawning wonder. “How did you…?”

  Dawn murmured firmly.

  “It was magic, Doander. I know a little.”

  The other boy’s eyes widened. “Mister Gralt says all magic is the work of the devil.”

  Hedric laughed as he hung up his mop. He held up a skinny arm. “Do I look like a devil to you?”

  Doander laughed. “No, I guess not.”

  Hedric looked carefully at his new friend. “I think that you’d better pretend you still can’t speak. It might be better for both of us.”

  The young assistant engineer gave him an appraising look. “You’re right.”

  The boys were just putting away the last of their cleaning supplies when the night shift arrived. Hedric’s stomach squeaked in hunger, and behind him he heard Doander snicker.

  The crew’s mess was a long narrow room, with heavy scarred wooden tables bolted to the floor, flanked by equally heavy benches. The eight seated men looked up as the boys entered.

  “Well lookee here!” The heavy sarcastic voice was Saxe’s. “His majesty is dining w’ us today.” He let out a mean laugh. “We’s got us a special meal fer you, yer majesty.” He stood, and took Hedric’s arm, leading him to the cook. “Give aare majesty here his special meal, Cookie.” His eyes were glittering brightly.

  The cook reached under the counter and pulled out a food-heaped tray. Sitting plumply on the top of a gravy soaked piece of meat was a beetle half the size of Hedric’s small fist. It was the same sort of beetle he had survived on for weeks in the jungle. If they were expecting a reaction from Hedric, they got one, only it wasn’t the reaction they wanted.

  Dawn’s voice warned sharply.

  Hedric whispered back. He picked up the tray with one hand and looked down at the beetle with a feigned wonder, and then looked up at the two men watching him so intently. “I lived on these beetles for weeks, gentlemen.” He reached out with his free hand and picked up the squirming creature. Slowly and casually his small white teeth bit it in half. Entrails dribbled down his chin and he casually wiped them up with a finger and, with a look of bliss on his face, sucked the juices off. He casually offered the last half to Saxe first, and then the cook. “Would either of you gentlemen care to try a bite? It’s actually quite good.” He looked at the green faces and smiled. “Ah well, more for me.” He popped the second half in his mouth and chewed noisily, forcing down his own urge to vomit. When he took a spiny leg out of his mouth and began to pick his teeth with it, the two men fled, faces green, hands over their mouths.

  There was dead silence in the mess as he sat and began to eat his dinner. At the far end of the room a large woman sat by herself in the corner, shoulders shaking with laughter. She stood up, gave Hedric a small bow with an ironic smile, and left the room. Within seconds, the rest of the crew followed suit disappearing out the door. Hedric and Doander found themselves eating alone.

  “Who was that woman in the corner?” Hedric whispered to his companion between bites.

  Doander’s eyes never left his plate. “That was the Captain. You’ve made a friend there, I think, but a powerful enemy of Saxe and Cookie.”

  “Saxe maybe.” Hedric whispered back. “Cookie will blame it all on Saxe’s meddling. Breakfast will tell the tale.”

  The boys washed their dishes and put them away. Hedric snatched a shiny apple from a bowlful as he walked by, putting it in a pocket.

  Doander disappeared below to his own berth, but Hedric wandered to the front of the boat, too excited to sleep right now. The mainmast, made from a single huge tree, was painted brilliant white; all the rigging and ropes were neatly coiled at its base. Through the soles of his thin shoes he could feel the comforting beat of the engine.

  He said to the other presence in his mind. There was a silence in his mind for several minutes as he stood watching the luminescent river water surge past in the darkness. The wind on his face enfolded the heavy perfume of a thousand different flowers. On the river bank some creature cried out in a thin piercing wail. He felt a shiver run up his spine.

  He laughed—a little sadly. He almost felt a comforting hug.

 

 

 

  He asked.

 

 

  Dawn laughed with a sparkling merry sound.

  Hedric sighed as he turned.

  Breakfast at first light had been uneventful, and Hedric went so far as to slap the cook on the shoulder, thanking him for breakfast while showing him that there were no hard feelings for the previous meal. Cookie had flushed at the warm words and even smiled, showing uneven brown teeth as he heaped food onto Hedric’s plate. But after looking at the grim porridge the crew was eating, he wondered silently if fresh fruit and bugs might be better. Somewhere, deep inside him, he felt Dawn shudder.

  Doander was oiling the engine when he entered the engine room.

  “McFarlain?” he asked.

  Doander looked around. “Not until about mid-watch.” He shrugged.

  “What can I do?”

  “Take the other oil can and put a drop or two on all the spots where two sections slide on each other.” He pointed to the piston and the connecting rods. “See?”

  Hedric grabbed the can. “Yup.” It was his first full day on the job. Both he and Dawn studied the engine as he worked, and slowly he began to understand its workings. He stopped at one point and stared.

  The boy looked at the mechanism carefully and pointed to one end of the beam.

 

 

 

  < I’m sure. Just do it before McFarlain gets in. I recommend waiting until tomorrow.>

  Hedric replied, straining at the bit.

  He set the small oil can down on a table and walked around the huge clanking engine. Against the far wall was a shelf containing a number of small weighted ceramic discs, designed, he could see, to slide down over a holding-rod. Picking up the smallest, he wiped years of grime and oil from its surface until it gleamed. He reached out toward the end of the moving beam, waited for the right moment, and slipped the small disk onto the balance rod. The effect was instantaneous, as the shuddering vibrations stopped and the operation of the engine smoothed out.

  There was a hiss of a warning before the fist caught Hedric, lifting him off his feet and hurling
him across the room to smash into a rack of loose pipes.

  “What do yer think yer doing te my engine!” The chief engineer’s voice growled like an ape. A toe caught him in the ribs and he curled up in agony. “Ye little shit. I’ll kill ye.” He heard the scrape of a shovel being picked up, and waited for the killing blow. It never came. Instead he heard the mellow voice of another woman.

  “Is there a problem, Chief Engineer?” He heard the shovel clank to the deck.

  “I was just reprimanding this boy, Captain. He was tampering with my engine.”

  “Do you always reprimand with a shovel, Chief Engineer?”

  “Ah. No, ma’am.” There was fear in McFarlain’s voice now.

  “Your engine seems to be running much better, Chief Engineer. Keep up the good work and don’t, by the way, kill the goose that lays golden eggs. Have I made myself clear?” She turned her gaze on Doander. “You, Apprentice Feltz. Pick up the boy and carry him to sick bay.” Doander nodded silently and bent to obey. “I’d forgotten that you can’t speak since the chief engineer reprimanded you too.” Her suddenly glacial look shifted back to the chief engineer. “Be careful, woman. I may choose to reprimand you also, and it’s a long swim back to New Boston.”

  When Doander picked him up, as gentle as he was, Hedric moaned in pain. “Hold on.” The boy whispered to his injured friend. “The doctor will fix you right up.”

  “Don’t need a doctor.” Hedric wheezed. “Just get me to bed. I’ll be all right.”

  “Nonsense.” Doander pushed open a door with his foot, and nudged his way in. A slim handsome man with tight curly hair so black it seemed to have a blue tinge, and even darker black skin looked up from the table.

  “What happened to him?” Doander looked over his shoulder as the Captain stepped in.

  “McFarlain.” Her voice was flat and hard.

  “You’ve got to do something about that woman, and I use the term loosely, Dot. She’ll kill somebody yet.”

  “She was about to take a shovel to the boy here, when I arrived.”

  “Damn her!” The doctor began to delicately remove Hedric’s shirt, exposing ribs that were already turning purple. “She kick you?” Hedric nodded, tears of pain running down his face. Gentle fingers touched his jaw, and he winced. The doctor nodded again. “Punched you too, I think.” He turned back to the Captain. “It’s too bad we couldn’t find someone to replace the hag. Whatever the boy did couldn’t have been bad enough to warrant the beating she gave him.”

  “He fixed the engine.” Captain Dolores Isenhart gently stared at the boy. “By himself.” She reached out a sun-browned hand and touched his shoulder. “Get well soon, young man. I have plans for you.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Hedric tried to smile, but winced at the pain.

  She winked a sky blue eye at him, turned and left the small office.

  “You too.” The doctor was glaring at Doander. “I don’t need an audience.” He smiled, and added softly, “Your friend will be okay. And how are you doing?”

  Doander glanced at Hedric, who nodded slightly. “I’m all right, Doctor.” He replied in a low voice. “But please don’t tell anyone.”

  Doctor Isaiah Welter gasped. “I didn’t know you could talk. When did this happen?”

  “Ah, yesterday?” The apprentice looked embarrassed. “I got better.” He looked down at Hedric, who gave him a lopsided grin. “I gotta go now, Doctor. Bye.” He turned without another word and almost ran from the cabin.

  The doctor turned to find Hedric staring at him. “What’s the matter, young man? Never seen a man of color before?” The doctor picked up the roll of bandages for Hedric’s ribs.

  “No, sir.” Without thinking, he reached out a finger and touched the man’s cheek, then blushed in embarrassment. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…aw damn.” Hedric ended lamely.

  “It doesn’t come off.” He laughed. “Now tell me what you know about your friend Doander, and how he made his miraculous recovery.”

  “Why, how would I know?” Hedric lied smoothly. “I’m just a stupid boy.”

  “Right.” The man said, wrapping the cloth tightly around his ribs. Hedric gasped in pain. “You have cracked ribs and probably a cracked jaw too. You’ll be spending the night here.”

  “But Doander…”

  “Doander Feltz will be fine, now.” Deep brown eyes carefully watched Hedric. “Now that the blood clot is gone.”

  “I know.” Hedric said absently, fingering his bandaged ribs. He realized what he’d said, and looked up, blushing. He didn’t even need Dawn’s anguished to give him a hint.

  “Ah, I mean…”

  Doctor Welter gave him a flat, unreadable look. “It appears that there is more to you, young man, than meets the eye.” His tone, however, was gentle, his look appraising. Hedric felt a blush warm his cheeks. “What is your name, young engineer?”

  Dawn warned in a concerned tone.

 

 

 

  There was dry laughter in Dawn’s comment.

  “My name is Tad.” Hedric bit his tongue, and met the steady gaze without flinching. “Tad Swimming.”

  “Oh?” An eyebrow raised. “Is that short for Thaddeus?”

  “Um.” Hedric looked at his feet. “It’s short for Tadpole.”

  His laugh was light and filled with mirth. “Tadpole Swimming. Not really a good god-fearing name, would you say?”

  Hedric gave him a sly look out of the corner of his eye. “It depends on what god, I suppose, or goddess.”

  Doctor Welter turned and let down a small bunk from the wall. “You are very well versed for someone so young.”

  “I’m young, not stupid.” He regretted it the moment he said it. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I have a temper, and sometimes my tongue gets into trouble.” He became quiet as his memories played over his recent indiscretions, especially the airship.

  “I’ll have the cook send up some soup.” His look became hard. “No sneaking apples or carrots or things like that. Your jaw needs time to heal, or I’ll wire it together, if you don’t cooperate.”

  “Ah.” Hedric backed slowly toward the door.

  “Oh don’t worry.” Doctor Welter said softly, touching his shoulder and letting out a low laugh. “My bark is worse than my bite.” He tossed a pillow on the small bed, and then handed Hedric a thin book, from a few he had on a high narrow shelf. “Do you read?”

  “Yes, Doctor. My mother and uncles taught me.”

  “Good for them. Now you get some rest. The cook will be along shortly.”

  He gave him a big smile, and Hedric noted that the doctor’s teeth were very white against his skin. He smiled back. The book, by someone called Jules Verne, was titled Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea.

  The door to the small cabin swung open. “Well, how is my patient this morning?” He began unbuttoning Hedric’s shirt.

  “I’m fine, Doctor, and ready to go back to work.”

  Isaiah looked up. “You should be aching all over your body from that beating.”

  “Ah, I’ve always been a fast healer.”

  Dawn’s reply was slightly surprised and pleased, in equal measure.

  The doctor unwound his bandage quickly, noting his lack of pain at the pulling and tugging. Pink unblemished skin greeted him, where yesterday there had been a welter of purple, black, blue and green.

  “You’re…” The door to the cabin opened.

  “Well, Doctor, you seem to have worked wonders.” The Captain murmured, regarding Hedric’s ribs.

  “But I didn’t…”

  “The doctor is really amazing, Captain.” Hedric interrupted, before too many more questions were asked. “Don’t let him tell you different. He’s r
eally amazing.”

  The voice in his head whispered.

 

  “So, Mister Swimming.” Dolores Isenhart was staring down on him with piercing blue eyes that seemed to see into his soul. “When will you be ready for work?”

  “I could go back today.” He saw both adults open their mouths. “But I’ll defer to the doctor’s better judgment.” The Captain smiled, but the doctor just frowned. “Tomorrow, maybe?” He asked, hopefully. The doctor’s brown eyes flashed.

  “Do you really need him, Dot?”

  The blue-eyed woman sighed, and brushed a strand of her long brown hair out of her face. “I think so. McFarlain has been roaring drunk since we brought the boy to sick bay. The ship is in danger, Isaiah. I should have gotten rid of her three stops ago, but there just isn’t anyone on this river who is familiar with this type of engine.” She gave a coarse laugh. “I’ve been looking ever since the incident with Doander.”

  “Are the engines that modern?” Doctor Welter asked, a frown creasing his dark face.

  “Just the opposite.” The captain had a rueful smile. “”The engines are so old that all the engineers who are familiar with them are long since dead or retired.”

  “Damn.” The doctor closed his eyes. “It’s against my better judgement, but…”

  “When you go to work in the morning, you tell McFarlain that you just had the wind knocked out of you. Can you do that?”

  “Yes, Captain.”

  “And stay out of the woman’s way if you possibly can. Doander has orders to report to me if the chief engineer starts acting crazy.”

  “Yes, Captain.” Hedric replied, barely keeping the excitement out of his voice. He couldn’t, however, keep the idiot grin off his face.

  The Captain shook her head, but as she shut the door she gave the doctor a quick wink.

  “Dog, ye an yer damn boy jes stay outta me bloody way. Go oil something, dammit.” It was just after breakfast and Chief Engineer McFarlain was staggering drunk already. Hedric hadn’t had the chance to say a word to the other boy, but his unsurprised face said that the Captain had already spoken to him. He gave Hedric a shy smile.