Driftmetal II

by J. C. Staudt

I searched everywhere, scanning my surroundings feverishly. Finally, in the clearing between a cluster of buildings, I spotted Rindhi’s broken body. I hit the ground running, dodging ridgebacks and keeping the winch pulled tight until I reached him and scooped him up. Then we were airborne, zipping upward on the line and barely escaping the reach of the beasts, who began to roar and complain below.

  When Rindhi and I were safely on deck, I fainted. That’s not something I’m proud to admit. It was the second time I’d passed out on the deck of the Galeskimmer, and only the third time in my life. In my defense, I think most people—even techsouls—would’ve blacked out and keeled over long before that.

  I came around after what I assumed was only a few seconds, because not much had changed on board our modest vessel in the interim. We were skirting the canyonside and rising into a sunlit sky that was heading toward noon, with Dennel at the helm and Thorley and Eliza working the sails. Poor Eliza, still looking like she was on the verge of passing out herself.

  Thomas was curled up on the deck, covering his bloodied face with two hands that didn’t look much better. I would find out later that he’d broken his nose and both his wrists in the landing, something I’d never seen a techsoul do before. But he was bleeding blue-violet blood into his hands, so I knew I wasn’t in for any Vilaris-style surprises from him.

  Sable was still cradling Nerimund.

  I loosed my grapplewire from the mast, then went over and sat down beside the two of them. “Is he going to be okay?”

  Sable scrunched up one side of her mouth. “I hope so.”

  I started to speak, but hesitated. “Did you know he could do that?”

  She nodded. “Nerimund is a Wealder. A Grove-mind.”

  “I’ve never heard of that.”

  “It’s a duender thing. They believe that anything that was once alive can be brought to life again.”

  “That sounds more like necromancy to me,” I said.

  “You’d be surprised how closely related they are.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me at all. Can every duender do stuff like that?”

  Sable shook her head, blinking away tears. “Nerimund is a very special little person. He’s skittish and sensitive… and I’ll admit he can be unpredictable at times. He might even appear slow-witted to someone like you. But I could never put into words how much love and gratitude I have for him. It might not seem like it, but he’s done a lot for us. Uncle Angus found Nerimund… or, Nerimund found Uncle Angus… when I was just a little girl. Many years before I ever came aboard the Galeskimmer. He was Uncle Angus’s constant companion; it wasn’t until Maclin abducted my uncle that Nerimund began to bond with Mr. Scofield and me.”

  Mentioning Mr. Scofield got Sable even more choked up. “During that storm—the one when we lost the Maclin shipment—I think Nerimund might’ve been the only thing that was holding the Galeskimmer together long enough for us to make landfall. We may not have survived it without him.”

  “Today was almost that bad, too,” I said. “I don’t think things would’ve turned out as well if it hadn’t been for him.”

  “No, I don’t think they would’ve. But one might say the same about you.”

  “I’m surprised. That sounded almost like a compliment,” I said. When I saw the sad smile on Sable’s face, I realized it had been.

  While Sable and I were having our little moment, Thomas had gotten up and crawled over to where Rindhi lay. I had become subtly aware that he was sobbing; I hardly noticed when he stopped. But he did catch my attention when he began to yell.

  “Come quickly, everyone. It’s Rindhi… he’s still alive!”

  Sable wasn’t about to leave Nerimund’s side, but she gave me a nod, so I shoved myself up and converged on the scene with Eliza and Thorley. Rindhi was breathing, alright, his chest making slow little inflations. I wasn’t sure how alive he was, but I knew he wouldn’t be for long if we didn’t get him some help.

  “You’ve got to do something,” Thomas was saying. “Someone help him!”

  “Is there anyone on board who knows how to patch him up?” I asked.

  Eliza shook her head.

  “How have you managed all this time without a ship’s doctor?”

  “We’ve never had to dock our boat in the wilderness or fight off tribes of wild monsters before. Things have changed since you came aboard, Mr. Nordstrom. We’re couriers, not buccaneers. Mr. Scofield was the closest thing we ever had to a doctor.”

  “We need to turn around and go back to town,” I said.

  “Don’t you know any first aid?” Thorley asked.

  “As I’ve said before… I’m a mechanic. I could fix him up with something that’d keep him alive, but the ridgebacks made off with most of our supplies and I doubt Rindhi’s going to hold together with the paperclips and glue in Sable’s desk.”

  “How do you know what’s in the Captain’s desk?” said Eliza.

  I opened my mouth to speak, then scratched my head.

  Eliza glared. “Stow the excuses, Mr. Nordstrom. We’ve got bigger problems to think about just now.”

  “Cap… looks like Civs off the port bow,” called Mr. McMurtry from the helm.

  I got to my feet. A pair of Civvy sloops was cutting a path across the Heights, skimming over the wide expanse of foggy moorland that stretched out below us. They were running just about parallel with the Galeskimmer, and moving at a good clip. Too small a detachment to be Kupfer’s boats, I thought. That blowhard has a taste for luxury. Never rides in anything smaller than a fleet of five ships, and he never leaves home without that hideous-looking cruiser of his, The Vigilant. This must be the locals out on a patrol.

  But at the speed they were moving, I could tell they weren’t just on some leisurely patrol. They would’ve been paying us more attention, for one thing. Something big was going on. The town on the far side of Torag Canyon was called Clokesby, and it was still about half an hour’s flight ahead of us. For Rindhi’s sake, it would’ve been much quicker to turn around and head back to Lowell’s Market, as I’d suggested.

  “Someone get on the bluewave,” said Mr. McMurtry. “See what they’re chattering about.”

  Thorley produced the comm I’d given him earlier to call Sable with. He flicked it on and ran a channel scan. We heard the usual squiggly radio sounds and the white rush of static for a while before we got anything.

  “… requesting immediate assistance. Attention all listeners: we regret to report to you this afternoon that there is the strong possibility of an imminent collision between Obernale and the Kalican Heights. I repeat: a collision between Obernale and the Kalican Heights is imminent, with the collision site predicted to be somewhere in the vicinity of Clokesby Township. All citizens residing in Clokesby or Obernale who are tuning in to this broadcast are advised to evacuate their homes and seek altitude or safer ground. Again, we have reason to believe that the northwestern edge of the Kalican Heights is on a collision course with Obernale. The stream has altered Obernale’s course so as to push it into the windspace of the Kalican Heights. The Heights are now obstructing Obernale’s flight path in such a way as to trap it in our low-wind zone. We’re… Oh my heavens, I see it! I see it now, just there! The clouds have parted and Obernale is within sight. Dear heavens, the size of it… if we keep going at this rate, if the winds don’t change…”

  The signal whistled and cut to static for a long moment. We all stared at each other. I had never been around for a collision as big as this one was going to be, if it happened. The guys in Clokesby’s crow’s nest sounded pretty sure it was.

  “How far away is that?” Thomas blurted out.

  “Farther than we can reach while we’re moving toward the leeward edge of the floater, if the wind dies down,” I said. “We have no turbines, remember. We’re riding on sails alone.”

  Dennel McMurtry frowned, then looked to Sable for orders. “It’s the Captain’s decision. Where are we to make our heading, Cap?”

  Sa
ble hesitated. Months of competing with my dear old dad for supremacy aboard my Ostelle had taught me that there were few traits less desirable in a captain than hesitation.

  “It’s clear what we have to do,” I said. “Isn’t it?”

  Sable gave me a questioning look.

  “We need to get our keisters out of here before the collision. There are probably dozens of ships headed this way already. If the Heights run into Obernale, there are going to be casualties. Deaths. This is going to be catastrophic. The obvious course of action is to get as far away as possible, and stay there.”

  Sable didn’t seem to like that idea. “And what about all the people who don’t have ships? What are they going to do?”

  I shrugged. “Die, I guess. That doesn’t mean we have to be around to witness it.”

  Sable’s eyebrows scrunched together. She glanced at Rindhi, then down at Nerimund, then back at me. “I think we ought to do what we can to help. The collision will probably have already happened by the time we get there. People from both islands are going to need airlifts.”

  “And if the wind changes? Every doctor who hasn’t fled town is going to be so busy dealing with the fallout that there won’t be anyone to see to Rindhi. Or Nerimund, for that matter. We need to head back to Lowell’s Market, or go someplace big like Everwynd if we want to find a doctor who’s available.” I was in pretty bad shape myself, but I had enough augments to mitigate the damage for now. That didn’t change the fact that I’d need medical attention sooner or later, though.

  Sable breathed a loud sigh. “You’re not making this any easier.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t want to do that. You might start liking me.”

  She didn’t smile.

  At the helm, Dennel was getting anxious. “We’ve gotta go somewhere, Cap. Where shall I set my course?”

  5

  Sable hesitated a second longer, something I couldn’t exactly blame her for under the circumstances. “Mr. McMurtry… make for Clokesby. Straight on.”

  I clenched my jaw. Dennel turned us downwind and we took off after the two Civvy sloops, which were now a good distance ahead of us. They paid us no attention as their turbines thrust them onward into the afternoon.

  Thorley helped Sable carry Nerimund to her quarters while Thomas, Eliza and I did what little we could for Rindhi. His condition was too unstable to warrant being moved, so we covered him with a blanket and kept him where he was. When Thorley came above, he and I went around and began tossing dead ridgebacks overboard. I couldn’t see most of the tusk wounds that were on my back and on the backs of my arms and legs, but I felt them every time I bent over to grab one end of a body.

  We’d almost lost sight of the two Civvy sloops by the time we heard the crash. It was a hard, echoing sound, like the twinge of distant thunder. Even from on high, I could see the ground shaking below us.

  With sudden vivid clarity, I imagined myself standing at the edge of Clokesby, just yards from the drop-off, as Obernale loomed large and came drifting toward the Kalican Heights. I could’ve sworn it was moving no faster than a cloud on a listless day, but its sheer size was playing tricks on me. When the two gigantic land masses collided, the force of the impact was enough to crush acres of land like brittle clay and send showers of debris plummeting to the Churn.

  “Mr. Nordstrom? Mr. Nordstrom. Are you alright?” Thomas shook me by the shoulder, waking me from my daydream.

  The medallion pulsed on my chest. I’d had a nightmare, but the nightmare was real. The inexplicable had happened. But I hadn’t given the medallion credit for my ethereal visions. I hadn’t even considered it as a possible culprit. I gave Thomas what I can only imagine was a stare as blank as a concrete wall, then stood and went to the bow. I zoomed in as far as my enhanced eye would allow, straining to see into the distance.

  It was several minutes before I could see anything. When I did, reality was even worse than my brief nightmare had been. Not worse because the damage was more severe than I’d imagined; worse because it looked exactly the same as it had in my head. I’d seen what was happening from miles away, farther than my eye’s telephoto lens could’ve possibly extended. And I’d seen it not before or after it had taken place, but at the same time.

  Obernale had struck the western portion of Clokesby hard enough to leave a dent the size of a cornfield. The resulting ricochet had sheared off another few hundred acres of land area. When my telescopic vision came within range, Obernale was still in the process of twisting away, grinding along the edge of the Heights like a toothless gear. The sound was a dull rumble, less like thunder and more like the feeling you get in your stomach after you’ve eaten something that doesn’t agree with you.

  The Civvy sloops had vanished, no doubt set down on a street somewhere to aid in the evacuation effort. A natural disaster like this was worse than an earthquake would’ve been before the world shattered; every man-made structure for miles around the impact site would have to be tested for soundness and stability before the authorities deemed it safe again. And that was not to mention all the homes and businesses they would find that had simply vanished—the ones the collision had decimated, like a bite taken out of a cracker.

  “Where shall we make berth, Cap’n?” asked Dennel as he brought us in low over Clokesby. Sable had come above after getting Nerimund situated, and she did not answer him at once. She was too busy gaping at the destruction.

  The wind had died down, as I’d expected. The Galeskimmer was slowing as we approached the town, through no fault of Mr. McMurtry’s. The mountains to the east provided a hard breakwind, and the bottom of the floater was shaped in such a way that it funneled the winds away from Clokesby, so the town was well-protected for one so high up in the stream. If Obernale hadn’t found itself lined up with the low-wind zone just so, something like this would never have happened.

  The town was a wreck. They called it a town, but Clokesby was as close to a city as any town I’d ever seen. Halves of smashed buildings leaned over the precipice, revealing open rooms full of furniture and plumbing and severed electrical lines. I began to see tiny shapes scurrying away from the edge like wildlife fleeing a forest fire. It felt a little like the end of the world. This was what it must’ve been like when everything broke apart all those centuries ago, and what the people running for their lives below us were experiencing with much greater intensity than we were.

  Sable pointed. “Bring us around to the edge, Mr. McMurtry. Where the collision took place.”

  “Are you crazy?” I said. It was probably the first time I’d ever asked her that, instead of the other way around. “I don’t know why I’m having to reiterate this, but we have no turbines. If we sink below ground level, we’re gonna have a collision of our own, and it won’t go any better for us than it did for them.”

  Sable looked at me in that confident, smirking way of hers; the way she looked whenever she was feeling like her usual self. “You keep going on about your mechanical expertise. Why don’t you show us what you can do?”

  I wasn’t following her, and I gave her a look that said so.

  “Fix the boat,” she said. “You can do that, can’t you?”

  “Now?”

  She lowered her chin and raised her eyebrows, as if to question whether I was serious. “Can’t you?” she repeated.

  “Of course I can. Finalizing all the connections and flight-checking them won’t take long. But these are used engines I bought off a junker for twelve thousand chips. Brand-new, these things go for at least seventy apiece—”

  “I know how much a turbine costs,” Sable said. “It’s crunch time, Mr. Nordstrom. The only question I need answered is ‘Can you make it work?’”

  I was surprised. For once, I was the one flipping my lid while Sable remained calm, cool, and collected. I did appreciate her calling me by my alias in front of Thomas, of course. I had a feeling he still had a part to play in all this, and I didn’t want him knowing I was a wanted man until he needed to. Sable had j
ust offered me a challenge. And if there’s one thing I do better than anyone, it’s going to ridiculous lengths to prove I’m not a screw-up.

  “I can make it work,” I said. “But if you expect me to pull some acrobatic maneuver and work on a couple of three-hundred-pound turbines while the boat’s airborne, you should realize that I’m going to need some help.”

  “No,” she said. “We’re going to land. There’s a hospital down there, right near the edge. You’re going to finish installing the turbines yourself, because we’re going to need every spare set of hands on deck to load up the Galeskimmer with passengers. You wanted to run a charter service, Mr. Nordstrom. That’s exactly what we’re going to do. You get her ship-shape, and we’ll give our passengers as comfortable a ride as we can.”

  Under the circumstances, I decided it best not to point out that the impetus behind my charter service idea had been the accumulation of profit, and that this little humanitarian venture was unlikely to accomplish the same goal. “Aye, Cap’n,” I said instead. This truly was a day of firsts. I’d never acknowledged Sable as my captain before, but even I knew when to stop messing around and get with the program.

  The streets were in total chaos when we landed. Fires had broken out all over, and the lack of wind left the smoke settling over the town like a blanket of dense gray fog. The buildings teetering on the edge looked far more hazardous from the ground than they had from above. Thorley helped me pull the new wiring, then went to help the others. The crew headed down the street toward the hospital while Thomas stayed behind with Rindhi.

  I wasn’t sure why the ridgebacks had taken enough of an interest in the ship’s toolbox to steal it, but as a result, I was forced to use a decrepit old set I’d found deep within the ship’s storage compartments. I laid out my shoddy tools and went to work. Some might’ve found such chaotic conditions distracting or stressful, but I embraced the noise and the tumult as my companions and my inspiration.

  I had been trying to avoid thinking about Pyras and all the innocent people Lafe Yingler had been in the process of bamboozling all those years. But with people shouting and crying and screaming around me, I was reminded of all the inevitable suffering that would befall Pyras if someone didn’t stop him. It would be a different kind of suffering than the people here were dealing with, but it would be just as devastating.