The Calderan Problem (Free-Wrench Book 4)

by Joseph Lallo

  Digger gave a small bow. “I shall leave you to your work.”

  “Hmm?” she said, glancing up from the page. “Oh, yes, yes. So much to be done.”

  He exited, leaving Dr. Prist alone to finish reading her correspondence. When she was through, she moved a fresh sheet to the top of her clipboard.

  My good Mr. Van Cleef,

  I thank you for your letter. I am sorry to say that it was delayed in its delivery through some nefarious deeds. Fortunate then that you did not mention it when we spoke at breakfast. I would have felt quite the fool being unaware of it. Why anyone would wish to purloin a portion of a simple discussion between colleagues boggles the mind, but as it appears to be the machinations of a certain Lucius Alabaster, there is no accounting for his errant thought processes…

  Chapter 2

  “… And then Donald started lookin’ at me sideways, and this big fella, another grunt of course, said I shouldn’t say stuff I didn’t mean to back up with my fists…” Lil rambled.

  Since they’d left the airfield, Lil had been speaking in a nearly unbroken stream of anecdotes detailing the high and low points of the four months since Nita had returned to Caldera, with special emphasis on the two months since their last visit to trade.

  “And I suppose you were more than willing to back it up with your fists,” Nita said with the sort of smile a mother might have about a disobedient child at whom she simply can’t stay angry.

  “Nope, in this case it was my boot that did the talkin’,” she said. “Best way to bring a fella eye to eye to talk some sense into him is to double him over. That one was over before it started. But later that night someone got a nice shot in from behind. Want to see the bruise? It’s a real beaut.” Lil started to tug at the back of her uniform jacket and untuck her shirt.

  “That’s all right, Lil. I trust your judgment on bruises. You’ve got more experience than I do,” she laughed. “I’m sorry I missed it. That sounds like it was a birthday party to remember.”

  “A girl only turns twenty once. If you ask me, if you don’t leave a party with a scar or a tattoo to remember it by, it wasn’t worth remembering in the first place.”

  “Maybe if I’d been present, there would have been fewer bruises all around.”

  “I wouldn’t bet on it,” Lil said. “But we gotta make sure we ain’t apart for my next party. Or your next one. When’s your birthday anyway?”

  “Three months from today, exactly.”

  “So soon! That don’t leave much time for me to find you a good present. Oh! And speaking of presents, wait’ll you see what Coop got me!”

  She tugged up the leg of her pants, reached into her boot, and revealed a tiny single-shot pistol. It was rather artful, at least by Rim standards. The handles were polished white—though already showing some grime from Lil’s indelicate usage and storage—and the rest was coated with black enamel.

  “What do you think?” she said, holding it up.

  A shrill toot from behind them split the air. The driver of the carriage pulled a small lever, and a loud snap signaled the application of a brake that brought the carriage to a lurching stop. Similar sounds up and down the line of carriages halted the entire convoy. Lil turned her head in curiosity, the movement jolting Drew’s stare from where it had fixed upon her weapon to catch her eyes. Nita’s motion was a bit sharper and more immediate.

  The soldiers in the roofless larger carriage bringing up the rear were standing, rifles trained on Lil.

  “Gentlemen, please!” Nita scolded. She snatched the medallion hanging about Lil’s neck and held it up. “These people are honored guests! Lil, put the gun away.”

  “Sure thing,” Lil said, slipping it back into her boot as though being the target of half a dozen rifles was nothing new for her.

  It, of course, was not new for her. The same could not be said for those wielding the rifles, who seemed to be on edge, each shaking as though they were the one being targeted. The driver, similarly, was slow to return to his wits and resume the journey.

  “You Calderan folk sure seem jumpy around here,” Lil said under her breath.

  “It’s been over a century since any non-Calderans passed through these streets freely. It’s not unreasonable for them to assume you are criminals. Until the ceremony a few minutes ago, your mere presence here would have been a crime.”

  “Have folks shown up much, besides us out at the Moor Spires?”

  “Not that I’m aware of, but then they wouldn’t have gotten as far as Dell Harbor.”

  “Kind of a funny law if you can break it just by bein’ who you are, but I reckon that’s why I ain’t the one makin’ the laws.” She brushed the entire event aside as though it was nothing more worrisome than a rough patch in the road. “So here I am doing all the talkin’. What’s been keepin’ you busy since you left?”

  “It’s been exhausting. Back to the steamworks, which I’m happy to say carried on reasonably well without me. The whole crew was happy to see me back, though. They hadn’t been able to find another person to fill my spot properly, so Drew and a few others were pulling double shifts once a week to make up for it while they waited for applicants.”

  “A whole big island and they couldn’t find one more person to sling a wrench?”

  “A job that that doesn’t add to the beauty of our fair island at the end of the day is not the sort my country-folk are eager to embrace. And to be honest, for the first few days I was beginning to understand why someone might not be fond of the job. I’d forgotten how hot and close the steamworks could be. Working on the Wind Breaker could be just as bad, but at least there was always the open sky waiting for me with a breath of fresh air. Which reminds me, about the Wind Breaker. I—”

  “Oh, no, no, no,” Lil said quickly. “We ain’t talkin’ about the Wind Breaker. We’re talkin’ about you. Workin’ at the steamworks wasn’t enough to make you exhausted, was it? It bein’ your old job and us workin’ you pretty hard as part of the crew.”

  “No. That much was pleasantly simple. Much larger pipes, and most of it much less complicated. But at the end of every day, I was with father in the council meetings, arguing on your behalf. And once we’d convinced them to make you honorary citizens, there was the planning and building of the temporary airfield, the discussions of the permanent one, my brother and sister’s little project…”

  “What’re they working on?”

  “A surprise,” Nita said with a smile.

  “Oh, look at you, bein’ all sneaky. Well, since you been busy, I suppose you ain’t spent much time missin’ your old crew.”

  “Only every moment of every day,” she said, throwing an arm over Lil’s shoulder. “Do you have any idea how long it’s been since one disaster or another has threatened to kill me? Life around here is positively mundane! As much as I love our local cuisine, I find myself downright ravenous for a little slumgullion lately. And as brightly as we all dress and as beautifully as we all decorate, I’ve yet to meet anyone as colorful as you.”

  “Oh, you,” Lil said, blushing and punching Nita in the arm. “There you go makin’ my cheeks red with that silver tongue of yours.”

  “In addition to Lita and Joshua’s plan, which won’t be ready for another few days, there is going to be a formal dinner. The captain has asked to meet privately with my father and some key members of the council. Those will last for a few days.”

  “Why?”

  “The council is extremely cautious. They don’t make decisions lightly, and much as I respect Captain Mack’s leadership, his behavior isn’t likely to earn instant approval from the sort of men and women who form the council.”

  “So where’s that leave the rest of us?”

  “You are free to do as you please. You will all be staying at the Graus estate, and Lita has taken it upon herself to prepare some suggested sights and experiences she feels should not be missed.”

  Lil’s face lit up. “You mean i
t ain’t all gonna be stuffy stuff like that back there?”

  “Not at all. I, at least, would like you to consider Tellahn your second home.”

  “Then you and me gotta see the town, right? Like I showed you, back in Keystone. Not just the fancy spots folks go when they don’t know no better. The fun spots. Just you and me!”

  “What’ll the rest of the crew do?”

  “Oh, Coop and them’ll find a way to get to mischief without our help. Come on! We ain’t seen each other in too long. It’ll be fun!”

  “It sounds wonderful,” Nita said. She gave Lil a doubtful look. “We’ll need to get you something else to wear.”

  “I still got some of them hand-me-downs you loaned me.”

  “Lil, we’ve got high standards and expectations of fashion around here. If you showed up in a dress that wasn’t properly tailored, the clothes would cause as much of a stir as your complexion. But don’t worry. I know just the person to help you out.” She smiled warmly. “This is going to be fun.”

  #

  “I tell you what,” Coop said, leaning over and speaking in what he thought was a voice too low to be overheard, “these Calderan folk sure know how to make something perty, but they ain’t much for makin’ it comfortable.”

  A bump threatened to dislodge Nikita from her place in his jacket. She scrambled to nestle closer, and he idly stroked her head. His voice clearly wasn’t quite low enough, because the soldier who had accompanied them replied.

  “We choose to embrace the form of a creation, rather than sacrificing it for the purpose of function,” he said.

  “… What’s that mean?” Coop said.

  “Same as what you said,” Captain Mack said from the front seat.

  “Then why say it?”

  “He was chafin’ a bit at you not bein’ more diplomatic.”

  “Oh. I reckon that means when it comes to jawin’ I lean more on the function than the form.”

  “Nice to hear you pickin’ up the drift of things so quick, Coop.”

  “Heh. Ain’t no reason to be surprised. Remember, I’m a poet. Nita said so. Ain’t too many folks from our neck of the woods’ve got a pat on the back from a Calderan when it comes to words and such. Probably most of the crew could learn a thing or two from yours truly. Ain’t nobody better at talkin’ perty than me.”

  “Clearly,” the soldier said.

  Coop stretched a bit and endured the stiff suspension and unforgiving wheels of the spring-driven carriage for a few moments more. As he did, he looked around to admire the first scattered houses of Nita’s approaching hometown of Dell Harbor. Houses in this part of the countryside were sprawling. Most were a single story and built to make the best use of the steady breeze from the sea and the ample sunlight. Lush and carefully manicured gardens and topiaries decorated even the most humble homes, and most bore murals that would have put the museums of Rim to shame.

  “This is one mighty fine city you folk put together. Look how spread out it all is. Why don’t you all clump things up? You could fit loads more people that way,” Coop said. “Those three houses, stacked up, would probably fit most of my old town.”

  “We have plenty of land here. I’ve heard the people of Rim cling to mountaintops, trying to keep from falling into the sea on one side and some sort of horrid poison. We can afford to spread out.”

  Coop scratched his head. “Just because a body can do a thing doesn’t mean you ought to. I always sorta liked being up close to the neighbors. You want to talk to the fella next door, all you got to do is shout.”

  “I suspect those next door would feel differently.”

  Coop nodded, though it was clear the comment had bounced off his head rather than sinking in. The deckhand continued his sightseeing until another sage observation came to him.

  “Seems like a lot of folks are starin’.”

  “Stands to reason, Coop,” Captain Mack said.

  “How come? It ain’t us who’s different, it’s all of them.”

  The soldier scoffed. “That is a telling perspective on the world.”

  “For a fella the folks in charge sent down to give us a warm welcome, your perspective ain’t quite what I thought we’d be gettin’ neither. Us bein’ the ones ridin’ around in airships, you’d think we’d be the ones lookin’ down on folks, instead of the other way around.”

  Captain Mack gave him a glance over his shoulder. “You keep up turns of phrase like that, and I’m liable to think you are a poet, Coop.”

  “I reckon it does give me a better view of things.”

  Another brief silence gave way quickly to an exceedingly common subject of conversation.

  “You reckon Nita was happy to see me, Cap’n?”

  “She was happy to see all of us.”

  “Sure, sure. But I mean, you reckon she was happier to see me, specific like? I been droppin’ the hints and all that I was sweet on her for a while now, and I ain’t sure if she’s been pickin’ them up.”

  “Ain’t my concern, Coop.”

  Again, Coop continued as though the captain were fully invested in the discussion. “I reckon it’s the sort of thing that you should be… what’s the word? When you don’t make a big fuss of it?”

  “Subtle. A thing you ain’t known for.”

  “Right. When you’re courtin’ a perty lady you’re supposed to be subtle. And I been real subtle. And I suppose she must be sweet on me, too, because she’s been even more subtle.”

  “Thinkin’ like that shows you ain’t known for logic either.”

  “How do you figure?”

  “There’s playin’ hard to get and plain ol’ not interested.”

  “Oh… So what you’re saying is she might not be playing whachacallit… coy.”

  “I’m sayin’ if she don’t reciprocate one of these days, you’re wastin’ all your barkin’ on the wrong tree.”

  Coop stared blankly.

  “‘Reciprocate’ means do the same thing back.”

  “I don’t know why whoever came up with all these words decided to make so many of ’em long and hard to remember.” He scratched his head again. “How’s a fella supposed to know for sure if all his courtin’s doin’ any good?”

  “Ask.”

  “That ain’t exactly subtle.”

  “Sometimes a fella’s gotta cut to the heart of it.”

  “… Now you got me nervous. Supposin’ she says she ain’t interested.”

  “Either she is or she ain’t. The only difference is you knowin’.”

  He sat with a conflicted look on his face for a few seconds. “I reckon I’ll give her till the end of the visit to let me know.”

  “Like I said: ain’t my concern, Coop. I had a lifetime of dealing with women and all I got is a former Ms. West. Years don’t give a man knowledge of what goes on in the mind of a lady. At least, not this man.”

  “You and Butch got hitched in the first place, Cap’n. You must have figured something out.”

  “What’s in a lady’s mind is in a lady’s mind. What’s in a man’s mind is in a man’s mind. And they ain’t often similar.”

  “Well what do you think, Butch?”

  The response, after a moment, was a long, raking snore.

  “I reckon I’ll ask her later,” Coop said. “What about you, Mr. Soldier fella? What do you think?”

  “I am honestly aghast that you would so openly and freely discuss your romantic inclinations toward someone with everyone but the target of your affections.”

  “Yeah. That’s what I thought you thought. Well don’t nobody say nothin’ to Nita about all this. Remember, I’m bein’ subtle.”

  #

  Captain Mack stood uncomfortably in a darkened room, surrounded by the rest of his crew. It was a large room with a tall ceiling, but thanks to the single candle held by the captain himself, it felt as though they were in the middle of a void. For all they could see, it could have as easily b
een a cramped closet or a yawning cave.

  “Why they got us standing in the dark, Cap’n?” Coop asked.

  “I ain’t sayin’ again, Coop,” Mack rumbled.

  “It ain’t my fault my mind was wanderin’ when they told us.”

  “Right about now, Gunner’d probably point out with all of that empty space in your head, a mind is bound to wander.”

  “See, I reckon Gunner gets it, then,” Coop said.

  The captain eyed him. “I don’t know why he gets so much of a kick out of mocking you when half the time a good jab bounces right off that thick head of yours.”

  “You’re ornerier than usual, Cap’n,” Lil said.

  Butch muttered a comment.

  “If he wants a cigar, then why don’t he smoke one? I didn’t hear nobody say he couldn’t,” Lil replied.

  “Hush up, the lot of you,” Captain Mack barked.

  The group stood silently for a moment.

  “Cap’n…” Lil said sheepishly. “About that candle…”

  “Your mind go on the same stroll as your brother’s, Lil?” Mack grumbled.

  “There’s loads to be distracted by around here, Cap’n,” she defended.

  “According to Nita, this here’s a symbol. Us as the outsiders, we’re in the dark about these Calderans. So here we are in the dark. They’re fixin’ to give us the dawn so we can see what’s what,” he said.

  “Seems a bit much just for sayin’ hello,” Coop said. “No wonder they ain’t bothered lettin’ folks like us in until now. If all their how-do-ya-do’s start like this, folks’d never get anything done.”

  “I reckon they’re puttin’ on airs for us new folks,” Mack said.

  “I like it. Makes a body feel special,” Lil said.

  “I don’t know,” Coop said. “When folks get fancy like this, it usually means they’re plannin’ to put out small food. I ain’t one for small food unless there’s loads of it. Especially since Nikita’s bound to grab some.”

  Some low notes, muffled through the unseen doorway ahead of them, hummed and wavered. The sound was most like a large stringed instrument, something akin to a cello, but it wasn’t quite the same. It was shakier and melancholy, in a way. Then came the bright, sharp blare of trumpets, and finally a vertical slice of light appeared between the opening doors ahead.