“Ah, Mr. Alabaster. Always a pleasure,” he said, jabbing at the fire with a poker until he’d moved the freshest of the logs into the proper position. “You look as though you’ve had a rough go of it.”
“Mr. Tender, you cannot conceive of my misfortunes. I am unbathed, wounded, unrested. I have been forced to subsist on mere scraps. I have had my irreplaceable possessions torn from me by brigands, and I have been forced to travel on the barest framework of a vehicle rather than the masterpiece to which I have become accustomed. Lesser men would not have survived such events. But Lucius P. Alabaster is, of course, equal to the task.”
He plopped into his designated chair and slumped down, his hat slipping over his eyes. “Mallow, fetch the physician. I’ll also have a tall glass of tonic and some manner of roasted meats to rebuild my strength.”
“Yes, sir,” Mallow said, jumping to the task.
Tender stood and approached a small box on the mantel. “I’m sorry to say I may have something here to add to your woes.”
“Naturally. Great men can always expect such things… What is it this time? Has the sun been snuffed out? Are the oceans threatening to spill over the mountains and drown the fug?”
“Whatever it is, it’s got the mayor of Fugtown’s address as a return,” Tender said, pulling an envelope from the box and delivering it to Alabaster. “The message just came in a few hours ago. Priority. An envelope like that seldom contains good news.”
“The mayor…” Alabaster said quietly, taking the envelope and gazing at its hand-lettered addresses. When the facts filtered through his layers of exhaustion and self-pity, he sat bolt upright and pushed up his hat. “The mayor! Ah-ha! Even that stubborn fool couldn’t ignore my utter brilliance forever!”
“That’s the first time I’ve seen someone in this club happy to get a message from the mayor.”
“That is because you’ve never seen a mind such as mine at work! And thus you’ve never seen a masterful bit of manipulation and machination come to fruition before. What I hold in my hand is, indeed, the invitation to my own grandest achievement!”
He shredded the envelope and unfolded its contents. The page was written with a precise hand, each letter positioned in its own box of a printed grid. It was a strange bit of stationary familiar to anyone who had received a priority dispatch. The absurd cost and relative unavailability of such a mode of communication meant that the list of those who had received one was very short.
“There, you see, Tender? And these other fools who so seldom occupy the chairs at the Ruby Club thought me a madman for financing the installation of a priority message center in our little village, but this is evidence that it was a prudent sum well spent.”
“Good news?”
“The best of news! Written with the mayor’s spiritless and bland language, of course, but the man can be excused for lacking the Alabaster panache. Ahem. ‘As you appear to have significant and inexplicable insight into the actions and motions of the Wind Breaker, I have decided to seek your aid in neutralizing them as a threat. Henceforth all reasonable actions and expenses associated with Lucius P. Alabaster’s efforts to capture and/or provide proof of death for the Wind Breaker crew shall be underwritten and sanctioned by Fugtown. Please act quickly, and always with the safety of the fug people foremost in your mind.’ There, you see! Our society’s most powerful man has, in not so many words, begged me to rescue him from the tyranny of the surface folk!”
“Interesting… I’ve worked here for over a hundred years, and this might be the first time I’ve heard of anyone here taken on as an outside contractor by the more impressive members of the industry.”
“That’s because I’ve only been alive for seventy years, my good sir, and thus it was not until this moment that you’d seen my properly matured intellect put to its full use.”
“How did you do it?”
“By means that would confound a simple mind such as yours, sir, but fear not! I daresay you’ll be reading of my exploits in great detail before the year is out, for I shall in very short order be the most lauded man in all the fug. I shall be sure to inform those taking record of my actions to render them in words small enough for all to understand.”
Alabaster looked over the note to see if there was any further indication of his achievement.
“The man didn’t leave much time to spare. Had he dragged his feet any further, I might have been too busy rescuing his constituents to even receive his formal request for me to do so. We’ve reached the point where my plans are quite swiftly in motion, and once started they cannot be stopped. To that end, have you any other messages for me?”
“None. What you have there is the only message, priority or not, that we’ve received since you left.”
“I shall have to send Mallow to my manor… By now I would have liked to have received some indication of the motions of the more hidden elements of my schemes.”
“Just what sort of plans are you working at?”
“Again, you may read of them in the history books. Just count yourself lucky to have been present at this momentous occasion. Today is the day the finest man of an era finally stepped into the limelight.” He looked about. “Where is that Mallow? Blast him and his dillydallying. You then. Tender. Fetch me stationary. I have dispatches to send. My agents can only be trusted to act autonomously for so long. And I must amass my forces. The timing is crucial to reap the greatest reward from this operation.”
#
The looming threat of attack from abominations is a remarkable motivator to perform a thorough job quickly. Eleven fug folk and two humans threw themselves headlong into the task of raising at least a cursory set of defenses. Here and there, with increasing frequency as the work rolled on, the glint of large green eyes could be seen at the edge of the clearing, stoking the flames of urgency. The need for speed is also a fine recipe for innovation. The plan had been to fell trees, mill them into lumber, and use them for fence posts and lookout towers. Now faced with trees obligingly and relatively free of lower branches, the decision was made to simply string reel after reel of barbed wire between them, weaving a makeshift fence to keep the smaller creatures at bay in hours rather than days. Better fences could follow, provided the improvised ones did their job.
As illustrated by their encounter with what Lil was still reluctant to believe was a fug-squirrel, there was a need to defend against creatures that might attack from above. The barbed wire around the trunks of the trees would go a long way toward dissuading them from climbing, but there wasn’t nearly enough wire to reach all the way to where the branches interwove. There was no obvious solution that didn’t seem to be a hopeless engineering challenge or utterly insane. It was therefore helpful that Nita and Lil were present, as their respective areas of expertise seemed to be hopeless engineering challenges and utter insanity.
“Oof… the air’s getting a little fuggy up here,” Lil said, squinting a bit.
Still wrapped in her heavy coat, she had scaled one of the trees that had been called into service as part of their improvised fence. She’d locked her legs around one of the final branches below the churning dome of fug and was taking a brief break in her hours-long task. In one hand she held a saw, sticky with sap. Her other hand was tucked into her coat, where she was stroking Nikita.
“You brought your mask, didn’t you?” huffed Nita from the other side of the tree.
“Well sure, but I was just getting used to not needing it. I ain’t eager to start sucking breath through that pile of junk again anytime soon.”
“Fortunately, this is the last tree, so after this we can head back down and stay down for a while.”
“I’ll tell you what. Nikita sure is loving it up here.”
Lil mopped some sweat from her forehead. Despite the icy temperatures, the hard work and layers of clothing had her close to overheating. It didn’t seem to bother Nikita in the slightest, who had taken up residence in Lil’s coat just as soon as they’d climbed the first tr
ee far enough to escape the prying eyes of the fug folk below. The toasty interior of Lil’s coat combined with the privacy of the tree and the proximity to her second favorite person were heavenly to the little beast.
“All right, back to it,” Lil said.
She stepped off the branch, relying upon the bite of her heavy boots into the gnarled, vine-wrapped tree trunk that was not so unlike the rigging she’d been climbing aboard the Wind Breaker for so many years. Once she was in position, she dug the saw into the branch and went to work. She couldn’t manage much of a stroke with the saw thanks to the awkward angle, but she was industrious and was soon making plenty of sawdust.
“So, no branches means it’ll be harder for one of them monster things to jump from one tree to another, right?”
“That’s the idea,” Nita said. “I’m hoping it’ll mean they have to attack from the ground.”
“What’s with your bit then?”
Nita stopped hammering at an improvised cable hoop and leaned aside to talk.
“The thing that tried to take a bite out of me looked like it could probably jump a long way, so we’ve got to be ready if one makes it this far. Since they clearly seem attracted to high-pitched noises, I rigged some whistles to some canisters and signal rockets, then wired up these igniters. If something gets up high enough to touch these wires, a noisemaker will streak off into the trees and send it galloping away. Hopefully it won’t come back, but if it does, we’ll at least know where it was.”
“Gosh dang it, you’re a smart one,” Lil said.
“It’s funny. Back home the supervisors weren’t fond of my tendency to use what was lying around to solve the problems at hand.”
“Sounds like they ain’t never spent any time on an airship. On the Wind Breaker if a problem don’t get solved with what’s lying around, a problem don’t get solved.”
“All the same. It’ll be good to get back to work where I won’t have to rig up an impromptu ladder by hammering fléchettes into the trunk of a tree.”
Lil stopped sawing. “You… uh… you planning on getting back to a job like that?”
Nita finished hammering and set about threading the trip wire, which had been whistling in the wind as it dangled between her belt and the previous tree.
“You and Gunner are pretty close to being able to do the emergency repairs you might need, and you can always swing by Caldera for anything major. Mother got her medicine and is recovering nicely. Our deal is nearly at its end.”
“Maybe so, but, you know… that doesn’t mean you have to go. I’m sure the cap’n would keep you on. Heh. You know. If you asked real nice.”
“I know.”
“… It’s just that… not so long ago you were saying you don’t think too many steps ahead.”
“Since then I’ve put my mind to it a bit. I think it’s time to go.”
“… But… don’t you like being part of the crew? Getting into all these fun scrapes and then getting out.”
“That sad part is that I do like it. I’ve been having the time of my life.”
“Why’s that sad? And why stop if you’re having the time of your life?”
“Lil, I’m clinging to a thorn tree, stringing a makeshift noisemaker-equipped rocket while at the bottom of a sea of toxic gas. I’ve been pushing my luck hard. Eventually it is going to run out. My brother and sister are always eager to find out what I’ve been doing, but my mother… the look in her face when I leave. She’s never sure if I’ll come home again. And as far as she’s concerned, it is her fault I’m out here. If the worst happens, she’ll never forgive herself.”
“You know we wouldn’t let something happen to you. I been doing this for years and I ain’t died once.”
“I can feel the wind blowing through the holes bitten through my jacket by a monster, Lil.”
“Exactly. You got through that just fine. How much worse could it get?”
Having finished her task, Nita leaned aside to look her friend in the eye. Lil had a weak smile on her face as though it was all in good fun. Her eyes told a different story. They spoke of fear and desperation. They were pleading.
“Lil, what’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong? My world is fixing to fall apart, that’s what’s wrong.”
“It’s not your whole world, Lil. And it’s not forever. You’ll still see me from time to time. I’m just going to go back home.”
“Oh sure. I understand. Because you got a home. You got a family to worry about you. Not me. Mom’s been gone for years. Dad too. So what’ve I got? A couple cousins I don’t see for years at a time, and when I do see them it’s with their hands out? Nope. Everyone I got is on the Wind Breaker. I ain’t even had a home since Cap’n Mack first picked us up.”
“It’s just me. You’ll still have the rest.”
“Sure, but for how long? Cap’n’s not gettin’ any younger, and he’s got that island now. When he goes, Butch’s liable to go too. Gunner only sticks around because of the cap’n. Give him the chance and he’ll get back to a proper navy. With the things we’ve been doing, ain’t no ship in the Circa fleet would pass on a chance to snap him up. And that leaves what? Me and Coop with no ship.”
“If that’s the case, then what good will me staying around do?”
“If you stay around, then you’ll still be around. It’ll mean things ain’t started to crumble yet. And if they do crumble, maybe at least you’ll still be there. And I think maybe that’d be enough for me.”
“Lil, it’ll never be safe enough out here for my mother—”
“We ain’t talkin’ about your mother, Nita,” Lil snapped. “We’re talking about us. About the whole crew. What if she weren’t the problem? What if she was fine with it? What if no one cared what you did? Seems like all the big things you do are for somebody else. Forget about everybody. Your folks, the cap’n, Coop, me, everybody. What if this was just you? What do you want to do?”
Nita looked Lil in the eye. She wanted to answer. It should have been simple. But the deeper into herself she looked, the less certain she was. Her rescue came in the form of a soft but insistent tapping from within Lil’s jacket.
I hear the other inspector.
Lil glared at Nita for a moment more, then turned one ear to the worksite below.
“All I hear is a load of hammering and sawing and such. You sure?”
Yes.
“What’s he saying?”
Report forwarded to Inspector Lucius P. Alabaster. Reply intended only for Inspector 58978. We have reached the well. Two crewmembers are present. Both survived. This message was sent at 4:23 a.m., seven days after the previous message.
“Dang it,” Lil said, twisting to glance down. “Branca is still tied up. Is that thing tapping away on its own?”
“And who is it tapping to?” Nita asked.
There is a ship high and far, Nikita explained. I can hear that too.
“Is it close enough to hear what the other fella is saying?” Lil asked.
Yes. The ship inspector is repeating it back now.
“It would seem there may be more than one traitor in this group,” Nita said.
“I’m starting to think there ain’t nothing but traitors.”
Lil growled and kicked the mostly sawed tree limb, causing it to snap free and plummet to the ground. She then looked sharply at Nita. “And don’t think this lets you off the hook for that answer. Only probably next time we won’t jaw about it while we’re up in a tree. Now let’s go find out what’s what.”
The deckhand descended the tree with her usual recklessness, dropping as much as climbing. Nita took a bit more care, finishing the last few adjustments of her own task and then descending along the makeshift ladder of hammered spikes. By the time she reached the ground, Lil had already stalked over to the woman who still had her hands tied. After sitting on the cold ground at the end of her short tether for an entire night while the others worked, she was far too stiff and sluggish to get up in time to avo
id Lil’s wrath. Not that she would have been able to go anywhere.
“All right, Branca, spit it out,” Lil demanded, snatching the woman by the collar and attempting to hoist her to her feet.
The size disparity meant that Lil instead ended up pulling herself down toward the informant, but the effect was the same.
“What? What do you want from me now? Come to kill me for some other imagined crime?”
“I come to let you know we’re onto you. Who else here is working with you?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Someone’s taken the cage containing the inspector we discovered while we were loading,” Nita said from behind her. “We left it locked up, right here. None of the other goods from this area have been touched.”
“Maybe it ran off,” Kent offered, hefting a sledge to his shoulder and approaching the disruption.
“The cage is missing. Did it drag that off behind it?” Nita asked.
“Either someone comes clean about who took that critter, or I’m gonna start handing out black eyes until I hear what I want to hear,” Lil announced.
“Now, now. Let’s calm down,” Kent said.
“I’m sick o’ you telling me to calm down when I got reason to be angry. And you got reason to be angry too, because this time it ain’t about someone trying to kill us, it’s about someone giving up the location of this here bonanza you got.”
“What? How do you know that?”
“Because we got…” Lil paused and looked to Nita.
Nita looked back with a raised eyebrow.
“Dang it, dang it, dang it!” Lil said, stomping one foot as a punctuation on the outburst. “Cap’n ain’t gonna like it, but I’m tired of losing arguments I could have won if not for secrets I gotta keep!”
She whisked her jacket open with an exhibitionistic flourish. This revealed a rather startled Nikita to the rest of the gathering crowd of workers. The initial reaction, as was frequently the case when Lil acted, was confusion.
“If you’ve got the inspector tucked in your shirt, why are you making a fuss about it being missing?”
Ichor Well Page 27