For Steam and Country: Book One of the Adventures of Baron Von Monocle

by Jon Del Arroz

  It’s impossible to describe the exhilaration of buzzing through the air. Mr. du Gearsmith’s horseless carriage seemed like a hay ride in comparison. I was further off the ground than most birds could fly. We ascended into the clouds and above. I shifted the altitude lever to hold our position and stood on my tiptoes to get a good view of the front of the ship through the window (Marina called it the fore but it was the front to me). How small everything looked down below! The whole town was but a speck on an emerald green world. The view sent chills through my whole body. I smoothed down my dress.

  “Amazing, isn’t it?” Mr. du Gearsmith said from behind me. “Your father and his crew had the luxury to experience this every day.”

  I looked back at Harkerpal. “I can’t believe it worked!”

  Harkerpal bowed courteously. Marina gave a small inclination of her head toward me.

  “Where should we go?” I asked to myself, skipping back over to the controls.

  “Now, now, wait a moment. I never said the ship was in good enough condition to go anywhere.” Harkerpal moved toward me, eyes lit up in panic.

  I wanted to see more, but knew if I wasn’t quick to the draw, the others would take over and force a landing. We’d just taken off. Sure, we might have to keep the trip short, but I hadn’t even had the opportunity to really fly. I threw the lever into full forward and banked us hard to the left. Harkerpal stumbled and fell against the cabin wall.

  Mr. du Gearsmith grabbed onto the ship internal communications device to steady himself. “Miss von Monocle, what are you doing?” he hollered at me. His eyes betrayed the same furiousness he had shown the other evening.

  Marina braced herself on a handrail on the opposite side of the cabin.

  “I’m exploring!” I shouted back, pushing the Liliana for all the power she could muster. This would be my one chance to see what my inheritance could do. As soon as Captain von Cravat would return, this ship would no longer be mine. I’d own the Liliana legally, but we would be on a mission to deliver information to the king. When he saw us, would he really allow a ship like this to be taken by a young girl for her own pleasures? Even with my limited experience, I understood the answer to that.

  This was my only chance to drive my ship on my terms.

  Land zoomed past us below, so fast that I couldn’t make out our location. I couldn’t believe my eyes.

  As we settled into our flight, the others calmed themselves, realizing that the ship wasn’t going to buckle as Harkerpal had warned. I banked the ship to the left again, this time much more gently. I learned the sensitivity of the flight controls with that first hard bank. Next, I played with the other lever, the one that turned the ship, and saw the distinct difference in how the ship reacted. “This is a better control for full turns left or right. The other works better for sharp maneuvers,” I said, proud of my self-education. Learning by doing was how we farmers took care of business. My father may have worked the Liliana like it was a part of his body, but he had several years of experience on me. I’d pick it up. Flying a ship wasn’t as difficult as I had first thought.

  Mountains appeared in the distance. We approached a wide river, one much grander than I had seen in my lifetime. “Where are we?”

  Mr. du Gearsmith stepped to the window, gazing outward. He spun around and waved his arms frantically. The anger in his face made me cringe. “Zaira, TURN THIS SHIP AROUND!”

  Harkerpal stumbled up to the front of the bridge to peer out the window. Marina stood on tiptoes to see over the side of the ship. “We’re in Wyranth territory. Past the Border River,” she said. “How did we get here so quickly?”

  Harkerpal and Mr. du Gearsmith shouted, their words blurring together into meaninglessness. I hyperventilated. The room spun around me. I heard a loud blast and collapsed to the floor. “I…I don’t know what’s coming over me,” I managed to spit out in between gasps of air.

  “Move over!” Mr. du Gearsmith pushed me to the side and grabbed the controls for the craft. He banked hard right and pushed us back into full throttle once more. I stumbled to regain my composure and leaned on the console to try to right myself. When I did so, I accidentally pulled the altitude lever.

  The ship dropped. We all stumbled. Through the window, I saw some strange looking devices with large gears and what looked like the barrel of a gun. Several of those lined the border river. Those gears turned and boomed. Several large cannonballs flew through the air—directly toward us.

  A sharp crack resounded at the back of the ship. The nose of the ship tilted downward. Before I could lose my footing completely, Mr. du Gearsmith regained control and leveled us. The whole cabin filled with smoke. I coughed.

  “You almost killed us all!” Mr. du Gearsmith said. His face remained tight, rage hot in his eyes. The divot in his chin wrinkled further with his frown. “We’ve been hit with the Wyranth’s anti-airship ballistics. How, by Malaky, did we travel so fast?”

  “This ship is capable of impeccable speeds,” Harkerpal said proudly, seeming to forget the looming danger.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. The whole scene embarrassed me. I had no idea where I was or how fast I flew. Being on the airship, it had tempted me a little too much, preying on my desire for speed and excitement.

  “You took us much too far with that little charade of yours. This is a very fast ship, and you weren’t paying any attention to your course. I should have never let you take the helm. Not at your age. Not without experience.”

  Harkerpal and Marina stood staring, but said nothing. I’d disappointed them, that much was clear. My heart sank all the way to my stomach. “Will we be able to make it back to Loveridge?” I asked.

  More booms came from below, followed by cannon balls shooting past us. This time, none of them hit.

  “I don’t know, I’m going to try,” Mr. du Gearsmith said, focused on the controls. His composure in the face of the anti-airship ballistics from below astounded me. The ship turned smoothly, and settled into a comfortable speed.

  “I’m going to head to the engine room to ascertain the damage,” Harkerpal said, bobbing his head. He scurried away quickly, reminding me of Toby. I missed my ferret. More, I missed home.

  The Wyranth stopped firing at us. We must have flown out of range. The tension in the cabin still held thick.

  I’d thought flying my airship would be the best day of my life. How quickly Mr. du Gearsmith reminded me my upbringing was inadequate for adventuring. Airship life took someone with military training, or at least some form of piloting experience. All I knew how to do was to maintain a farm and grow crops. I’d never be able to fill the role my father had in mind for me with this inheritance.

  As if sending me a message from the grave, my father’s top hat slipped from my head, covering my eyes. Irritated, I pushed the hat off my head. It fell to the deck.

  Marina picked it up. “You dropped this,” she said, offering it to me.

  “It’s not something I should be wearing anyway.” I crossed my arms.

  Marina bit her lip. She kept ahold of the hat, but held it at her waist.

  Before either of us could say anything further, the ship stuttered, a different sensation than the ballistics had caused. I gripped onto the console with all my strength. “What was that?”

  “Engines are failing,” Mr. du Gearsmith said. Irritation filled his voice, and he didn’t bother to spare me a glance. He kept his hands on the control levers, adjusting them with precision.

  I rubbed my face with my hands, betraying my frustration with myself. I wished I could redo the last few hours, tell Mr. du Gearsmith he should take the helm. In fact, I should have gone back further and gifted my airship to Rislandia. “For steam and country!” as my father would have said.

  We flew in silence for some time. The sputtering continued from the turbines and the forested earth below passed at far slower intervals than before. I didn’t have the courage to ask whether Mr. du Gearsmith thought we would be able to make it back to Loverid
ge.

  Harkerpal popped his head through the hatch by the corner of the bridge. “Miss von Monocle,” he said, eyes fixed on me. He paused, glancing at Mr. du Gearsmith as if he were uncertain who he should address. “The ship is no longer flight-worthy. We have to land as soon as possible.”

  Mr. du Gearsmith peered ahead, narrowing his eyes through the bridge’s periscope lens. “There’s no good clearing ahead of us to land.”

  “If we don’t land soon, there will not be an option for long. Better to take a chance while we have control.” Harkerpal took his final steps up the ladder and back onto the bridge.

  The hatch slammed shut behind him. The turbines ground to a halt and the engines made the loudest popping noise I’d ever heard. My ears rang. The ship fell once more.

  Harkerpal who threw himself at the console this time, turning the ignition over in rapid succession. “No, no, no! Not like this!” he yelled at the ship.

  Marina braced herself against the handrailing. I did the same. Mr. du Gearsmith backed away from the console, letting Harkerpal work. The ground grew ever closer.

  In one last act of desperation, Harkerpal kicked the control console with all his might. The engines restarted and the turbines began to spin.

  The ship couldn’t warm up fast enough to halt our descent, but it slowed us down enough where Harkerpal could maneuver. He jammed the banking controls hard, trying to clear us from the forest. It wasn’t enough. The Liliana brushed over the treetops. As we sank further, branches snapped, cracked, and boomed.

  We collided with the ground below. I bounced in the air, feet above my head as I held onto the handrail for dear life. My head smacked against the rail, and my body whacked against the ground. By Malaky, I stung everywhere. My vision blurred, and I lost my grip, collapsing to the floor. The Liliana bounced and slid across the ground.

  The smoke from the engines combined with a thick mixture of dust and debris that flooded the cabin. All of us coughed. Mr. du Gearsmith grabbed onto my wrist and pulled me to my feet. I had trouble standing, so he braced me. “We need to get out of here in case of fire,” he said.

  The smoke was too thick to see behind him. “Where’s Harkerpal and Marina?” I asked in confusion.

  “We need to go now. They can look after themselves,” he said, his tone of voice heavily implying I could not do the same.

  I hurt too badly, and my mind had gone too fuzzy, to argue. I brought my free hand to my temple and rubbed it. My head throbbed.

  Mr. du Gearsmith didn’t wait for me to collect myself. He grabbed me by the waist and flung me over his shoulder. I didn’t expect such a lanky man to be so strong or swift. He found his way to the hatch and descended the stairs.

  Even more smoke filled the lower cabin than had the bridge. Sweat trickled down my face. Something burned and generated considerable heat. Nothing slowed Mr. du Gearsmith, who moved with determination. He navigated the hallways of the airship as if it were his second home.

  I coughed more. My lungs burned, and I inhaled, starved for air.

  “Don’t breathe too deeply! The smoke is a carcinogen. Shallow breaths, and cover your face if you can,” Mr. du Gearsmith said, hustling into the main cargo hold. He set me down against a wall.

  He grabbed the cargo door crank and churned in a circular motion. The door hatch opened and descended to the ground. Smoke drifted outward. I could barely move or keep my eyes open any longer. The smoke irritated them as much as my lungs. I almost lost consciousness before Mr. du Gearsmith grabbed me once more, jolting me awake.

  We sped down the ramp, and out into the forest, where Mr. du Gearsmith set me at the base of a tree. I gasped for air. He bent over in an effort to catch his own breath. Then I fell into another coughing fit.

  My stomach did flips inside of me. I couldn’t stop coughing, and I forced myself to my knees, bending over in hopes to get the smoke out of my system. The movement further unsettled my stomach. I paled, and then in the most embarrassing act yet, I vomited at Mr. du Gearsmith’s feet.

  Mr. du Gearsmith jumped backward. “By Malaky, girl!” he shouted, unable to withhold his frustration.

  I looked up at him apologetically. What else could I have done?

  He appeared far gaunter than I had seen him thus far. The smoke had harmed him as well, but he appeared able to compose himself nonetheless.

  My head spun again, and the projecting hadn’t settled my stomach. I settled back against the tree, resting my head on its trunk. I frowned. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

  I couldn’t finish my words before my world went black.

  “I can’t bring myself to return home and face my beloved daughter. How could I look her in the eye and tell her I must leave again? By Malaky, I hope she understands.”

  An excerpt from Baron von Monocle’s log

  Day 15 of the Month of Queens

  16th Year of Malaky XVI’s Reign

  The innkeeper informed me that my companions had secured a table in the common room. I’d apparently slept well over two days, which had me scrambling to get back to life. I had so much to think about. What had happened with the airship? What would I to do now?

  It turns out I didn’t have much time to deliberate. The others waited for me, whether out of compassion and concern or wanting to chastise me, I couldn’t be sure. They were the last faces I wanted to see, and this inn was the last place I wanted to be. I longed for my quaint country bed where no airships or Barons or Wyranth would ever bother me.

  What would I say to Mr. du Gearsmith? No one had ever been so angry with me before, and he had good reason to be furious still. I’d almost killed the man, and then repaid his saving my life by soiling his shoes.

  I dragged my feet all the way down to the common room. I kept my chin down, not wanting to look the others in the eyes. With a brief glance upward, I did see Marina, Harkerpal and—to my surprise—Captain von Cravat. “Where is Mr. du Gearsmith?”

  “He was called away on urgent business,” Captain von Cravat said, ice dripping from her voice. She motioned to a chair at the table, which had no food or place settings. This wasn’t going to be a friendly meeting. “Sit.”

  I complied, settling into the chair. A lump grew in my throat, and I tried to swallow it back. “How is the airship?” I asked.

  Harkerpal bobbed his head before speaking. “Several gears need to be replaced, and the steam pipe has cracked in at least three locations. The outer hull has been penetrated on the aft starboard side. There is significant damage. It’s going to take a number of parts, and that’s just for the critical systems. All of the interior cabins need repair from smoke and debris damage.”

  “That doesn’t sound so bad,” I said, phrasing my words half as a question. The room had more tension than a plow’s harness behind a horse.

  Marina and Captain von Cravat glanced at each other.

  “If the damage were any worse, I’d recommend rebuilding the Liliana from scratch. She is in dire shape, Miss von Monocle,” Harkerpal said.

  “Your father would be extremely disappointed,” Captain von Cravat said.

  Those words pierced me. If Captain von Cravat hadn’t known how to get to me, she faked it with amazing precision. I withered into my chair. I already felt terrible enough about my mishandling of the ship. Was this necessary? Older adults from big cities sure liked to hammer on younger folk with less experience. When I’d made mistakes back on the farm, Mr. Gentry took the time to teach me. “It’s a matter of survival that you learn this. You’re not all on your own. We’re your neighbors. It’s almost like family,” he’d told me.

  It wasn’t just me who’d made mistakes. James once set a bale of hay aflame in the Gentry’s barn, nearly burning the whole place down before Mr. Gentry could find a bucket brigade. Mrs. Gentry shook in fear, but her and Mr. Gentry never used the occasion to make James feel inhuman. Unlike the way these three stared at me. I couldn’t be smaller to them.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, keeping my eye
s firmly on the table. I didn’t want to look at any of my father’s crew any longer.

  “You should be, but sorry won’t fix this,” Captain von Cravat said.

  “Don’t be so hard on the girl, Captain. She only—”

  “Captain.” She made sure Harkerpal understood who held command. “I’ll make the decision on how to handle this. By Marina’s account, the girl is completely reckless. She took no consideration as to her whereabouts or the condition of the ship. We’ve never been in a situation where the Liliana came that close to becoming refuse.”

  I glanced over at Marina. She frowned sympathetically and mouthed an apology. All I could do was to cast my eyes aside.

  “Do you have anything else to say for yourself?” Captain von Cravat pressed. She leaned into the table to try to force eye contact with me.

  “I’m not my father. You can’t expect me to know how sensitive airship controls are or where I should avoid going.” All I wanted to do was have some fun with an airship — my airship. But I couldn’t say that to Captain von Cravat, or even Marina for that matter. “He never taught me anything. He wasn’t around.” My voice cracked.

  “No, I suppose he didn’t,” Captain von Cravat said as if it validated her position. She stood. “I believe we’re done here for now. Harkerpal, I expect an estimation as to the costs to repair the ship within the hour, as well as your best guess as to when you can have the repairs completed. Marina, find one of the crew and buy the fastest horse you can find from one of the merchants in the town square. I have a report that needs delivering to King Malaky post haste. If we can’t get the airship running in a timely manner, we need another means of transporting the information.”

  “Aye, sir,” both Marina and Harkerpal said in unison. They scrambled to their feet and saluted her.

  Captain von Cravat saluted in return. She turned and marched out the door, each step measured with the military pomp that would be expected of her.