“You’re right,” Piper said. “If machines react to me, if I’m a synergist or whatever, then it’s a gift I should be able to use.” And use it she would. “Tell me what I can do to help you fight off the raiders.”
Gee stepped back. “Who said anything about fighting? The train’s already running great because of you. Let me handle the rest.”
Piper shook her head impatiently. “There must be something else I can do.”
“You’re too young. Jeyne would kill me if I let a kid like you get hurt fighting raiders.”
Piper snorted. “A kid? How old are you, security man?”
Gee turned away, and Piper heard him sigh. “I’m thirteen,” Gee admitted, “but it’s different for a chamelin. We may look like humans, but we’re physically much stronger.”
“Fine, you won’t let me fight, but what about the defenses?” she said. “If I help operate them, maybe they’ll work better.”
Gee looked at her thoughtfully. “There might be something in that,” he conceded. “Trimble and Jeyne control most things from up front, but there’s a security station back here in the last cargo area. If the raiders get past the first- and second-tier defenses, Trimble has to haul his butt back here to activate the backup systems. He’s had to do it a few times, and it’s dangerous for him to make the run while the train’s under attack.”
“So I’ll stay back here and be the third tier,” Piper said simply. “Trimble won’t have to make the run.”
“It’s not quite as easy as that,” Gee said. “I’d need to teach you what the defenses do and how they’re activated. Also there are certain signals we use so you’ll know when to set them off.”
“Well, you said we have a day, so let’s use it.”
Gee pushed off the rail and looked her in the eyes. “Why are you so eager to do this?”
The answer was easy for Piper. She wanted to prove that she belonged there. That it wasn’t a mistake leaving the scrap town. “I owe you,” she said simply. “You and Anna are square, but you saved my neck too.”
Gee frowned. “So you’re just paying a debt?”
“It’s not just that,” Piper sputtered. “It’s everything. Everything about this train has been good for us, for me.” And it had. She’d had food, protection—in the last few weeks, she’d seen more of the world than she’d ever dreamed. Piper was horrified to feel tears pricking her eyes. She would not let Gee see her cry. “It sounds crazy, but this train feels like home sometimes.”
Gee kept his gaze locked on hers, but Piper had to look away. “It’s not crazy,” he said after a moment. “Maybe you could stay here.” He added quickly, “I mean, I know you said you might settle in Noveen, but your gift with machines is worth a lot. I’m sure Jeyne would hire you on if that was what you wanted.”
“I don’t know,” Piper said, feeling suddenly breathless at the possibility. “I have to make sure Anna’s safe first, but that sounds …” Amazing, she thought. The idea of staying on the train, of seeing the world, a new place every day, and doing it alongside people who helped each other and treated each other decently—Piper’s heart lurched hopefully at the thought. She was almost afraid to want it, afraid to think about how happy it would make her.
She realized that she hadn’t felt this alive—as if she were truly living and breathing—since her father left for the factory. Two years of letting the loneliness of the scrap town eat away at her—now there were so many possibilities, yet the future was still so uncertain.
Piper pushed those thoughts away. They hadn’t reached the capital yet. Sky raiders stood between the 401 and Noveen. They had to take things one step at a time.
Gee put a hand on her shoulder, shaking her out of her thoughts. “Come on, I’ll show you the defense station, and we’ll get started.”
Piper nodded. He was right. For the time being, all she needed to do was focus on helping defend the train.
Gee led her back into the train and to the next car, into a small room cordoned off by a heavy black curtain. Piper gasped at the mess around her. Levers, valves, and pipes covered the walls and floor, labeled with hastily scrawled pencil marks—arrows pointing up, down, left, and right as if they were clues in a vague sort of scavenger hunt.
Piper squinted at the markings. “Are these meant for someone to actually read?” she asked.
Gee laughed. “Only Trimble. He’s the one who made them, though he doesn’t need them anymore.” He leaned over Piper’s shoulder and pointed to a red valve with a smudged mark beside it. “Flame turrets,” he said. “Look, you can see where Trimble drew a fire.”
Piper took a step back to see the marking from his angle, and she bumped against Gee’s chest in the process. “Sorry,” she mumbled, her face reddening.
“It’s all right,” he said quickly, putting a hand on her back to steady her. He laughed nervously. “There’s not much room in here.”
Was it Piper’s imagination, or did Gee’s face look as red as hers felt? She tried to ignore it—it was slightly harder to ignore the warmth where his hand had been—and focus on the levers and valves. “What does this one do?” she asked, pointing to a copper lever with a worn leather grip in the center of the floor.
“That controls the spikes. Sets of them jut from the ceiling and sides of the cars,” Gee said. He pointed to the set of pipes and valves just above the lever. “Those are the—”
“Smoke screens,” Piper said, starting to get excited. She could see it now. “It’s to throw the gliders off, right? Everything is designed to keep raiders from latching on to the train.” She followed the path of the pipes and valves with her eyes, imagining where they would come out on top of the cars. Instinctively, she could see how the system worked. “You tied some of these defenses in with the heating and cooling systems, didn’t you? They use the same ducts?”
“Very good,” Gee said. “We close off the bonnet and ducts and stop the water jets that wash the air. Means it can get pretty hot in here for a while, though.”
“I’ll bet.” But anyone who tried to land on top of the cars with a glider would be in for a nasty surprise when the train’s ventilation system turned against them. “Do they always attack with gliders?”
“Not always. Sometimes they use horses, but Cutting Gap is narrow—lots of curves. Once we make it through the canyon, we can get out of range of their gliders quick. Their engines are small, mostly used for support and meant for short range only. The challenge is getting through without too many of the raiders boarding us.”
“What about stopping the train? Have they ever tried that?” Piper asked. As she spoke, her attention was drawn to a square crack in the ceiling through which pale sunlight filtered.
“In the past, they have,” Gee admitted. “They’ve torn up sections of track, but that tactic actually worked against them in the long run, so they stopped doing it.”
“How could it work against them?” As interested as she was in the story, Piper found she couldn’t focus. The crack in the ceiling was calling to her. It looked like a trapdoor.
“We’re not the only train that makes Cutting Gap part of its route,” Gee explained. “Tearing up the track or trying to derail the train slows everything down, delays the other trains coming through. It’s more efficient for the raiders to hit multiple trains while they’re on the move. They board them at strategic points, grab what cargo they can, and get out. In the end, they get more out of those kinds of attacks, and the 401 always has valuable cargo, so they make sure to hit us whenever they can.”
“But the 401 has an advantage the other trains don’t,” Piper said, glancing at Gee as an image of him in his chamelin form went through her mind. “You can protect the train from the air and attack the gliders.”
“That’s my job.”
Piper pointed to the ceiling. “What’s that for? Is it part of the defenses?”
Gee frowned and shook his head. “You don’t need to worry about the hatch. You won’t be using it.”
“Only in emergencies.” Gee pointed to a corner where three crossbows hung on a rack against the wall. The weapons were as long as Piper’s arm and obviously expensive. Bolts covered in wicked silver barbs hung beside them. “If too many of the raiders get on the train, somebody has to go up top with a crossbow,” Gee said.
“Can I try?” Piper said, shooting him a hopeful look. She thought of her dream—how exciting it had been to stand on top of a train car with the wind in her face.
“No,” Gee said firmly, squashing her hope.
“I don’t mean fire a crossbow,” Piper said, exasperated. She put her hands on her hips. “I just want to go up top.”
“Well …” Gee glanced uncertainly at the trapdoor. “As long as you let me make sure you’re strapped to a safety harness—”
Piper was already moving across the train car to grab a safety harness from behind the weapon rack. She fastened it to her belt as Gee reluctantly pulled a short stool from the corner of the room and stood on it to open the trapdoor.
“I’ll give you a boost, but stay on your knees when you get up there,” Gee instructed.
Piper stood in the square of sunlight coming through the open hatch and waited while Gee checked the harness on her belt. He nodded, satisfied, and reached up to attach the other end to a metal loop on the trapdoor. “You sure you want to do this?” he asked. “You’re not afraid of heights?”
“Nope,” Piper said, unable to conceal her excitement. “Hoist me up.”
“Watch yourself.” Gee bent and cupped his hands for Piper to step into them. Without effort, he boosted her up through the trapdoor and out into the open.
Piper lifted her face to the blue sky as she emerged from the top of the car, and a gust of wind hit her, stealing her breath. The sun shone bright and hot on the metal roof; the whole train stretched out in front of her. Exhilarated, Piper brushed her hair back from her face. She felt like she was riding on the back of a huge metal dragon. The land sped past on either side at breathtaking speed, and the roar of the wind drowned out all sound.
Just like my dream, she repeated to herself. Filled with a daring she never knew she had, Piper put both hands on the hot metal roof and slowly, carefully pulled herself out. Then, bracing one foot slightly in front of the other and holding her breath, she pushed herself up and stood on the roof of the car. The safety harness pulled at her waist and helped to steady her, but she still felt as if she were one step from falling off the edge of the world.
Yet it was worth it. She lifted her arms and leaned into the wind, letting it push against her body. She was flying.
Piper caught movement out of the corner of her eye; then she saw the flash of leathery green wings glowing against the sun. Gee swooped down and landed on the car in front of her, his thick claws digging small gouges into the metal roof. He nodded to her as if to make sure she was all right, and Piper grinned back.
Gee launched himself back into the sky, wings effortlessly beating the air. Piper watched him go, her heart thumping in her chest. This is where you belong, an inner voice whispered to her. Where you’ve always belonged.
Gee stood in the engine cab with Trimble and Jeyne. He had transformed, so he couldn’t speak to the engineer or the fireman, but it hardly mattered. Trimble watched the temperature gauges, and Jeyne had her head out the open window, watching the track before them with the intensity of a hawk. Ahead of them, less than ten miles away, loomed Cutting Gap.
“You put the girls in place in the back?” Jeyne asked without turning her attention from the track.
Gee grunted an affirmative. Trimble checked the firebox and nodded to Gee. “Be careful out there, Green-Eye. They’ll be aiming a lot of their firepower at you. Keep your eyes open.”
Lifting a clawed hand in acknowledgment, Gee went to the window and climbed out onto the ledge. He’d had to keep his wings tucked close to his body in the small cab, but now he could spread them wide. He let the wind pluck him away and flew upward, circling back to get a good view of the 401. With his keen vision, he could see the individual cars clearly, but he intended to be high and out of sight of the raider gliders before the attack. Surprise was the main advantage in making it through the Gap. Gee would strike as soon as the raiders made their move, hopefully scattering them and ruining their plan.
Gee slowed, coasting on the wind and letting the train get ahead of him, until he was hovering over the two back cars. Piper and Anna would be at the defense station by now. They were as ready as they were ever going to be.
In that moment, Gee felt a surge of foreboding. Maybe he shouldn’t have let Piper help with the defenses. Goddess knew those girls were always getting themselves into some kind of trouble. If anything happened to them …
Don’t get distracted, Gee chided himself. If he didn’t concentrate, he’d end up dead, or worse, he might get someone else killed.
On a burst of wing beats, Gee flew away from the cars and took up his position high above the cliffs. He just had to do what he’d always done: protect the train, its passengers, and its crew.
Protect his family.
“Let’s go over it one more time—tell me what this lever does,” Piper said. Nerves clawed at her stomach as she squinted at the pencil drawings. It was almost time. They were approaching the Gap, and she wanted to make sure they were ready.
Anna looked up from where she sat in front of the crossbow rack. “Mmm … pressurized darts,” she said. “I wonder if Trimble tipped them with any sort of sedative. He’s been telling me about some of his experiments. He’s quite good with alchemy, hardly ever makes anything explode unless he means to.”
“We can stagger the darts’ release,” Piper said excitedly. “Three, no, four sets. This … this is an incredible set of systems.” Despite her nervousness, Piper was thrilled at the idea of figuring out a plan for the defenses. She could be good at this. She knew it. “I mean, I could take these things apart and be a week sorting out what each individual mechanism does—maybe I could find a way to make some improvements here and there—but it would be the best sort of scavenger hunt, I can tell you that.”
“But we won’t need the defenses once we get through Cutting Gap, will we?” Anna asked.
“No, but I mean for the future,” Piper said distractedly. She ran her hands over a set of pipes, mentally removing the walls of the car so she could picture where they went. “There aren’t enough windows in here either,” she added with a scowl. “We don’t have a clear view of where the raiders will attack. Maybe Gee would consider putting in some more glass. It would make me feel a lot better.”
“Are you—” Anna hesitated.
“Mmm?” Piper turned to look at her. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, it’s just … you sound like you’re staying—on the train, I mean.” Anna looked away, running her hands over the crossbow bolts.
Piper saw the girl’s expression and felt a pang of remorse. In all her excitement over the possibility of taking a job on the 401, she hadn’t thought about how Anna might react to the news. Piper left the defense station and sat down next to Anna. “Gee said that Jeyne might hire me on once we get you settled in Noveen. I haven’t decided yet, but I’m thinking about it.”
“I see.” Anna nodded her head, but she still wouldn’t look at Piper.
“Don’t worry,” Piper said, “I’m going to make sure you’re safe first. That’s the most important thing.”
“I thought you were going to stay in Noveen,” Anna said, clenching her hands in her lap. “If you go with the train, who knows when I’ll see you again?”
Piper’s chest got tight. “Hey, look at me.” Piper laid her hand on Anna’s shoulder. “Believe me, I’m not wild about the idea of leaving you either, but you’ve got a family in Noveen—”
“We don’t know that.”
“I know that,” Piper said firmly
. “I’m going to get you back to them. Point is, you’ve got a home waiting for you, and I’ve got to find one of my own.” Piper cleared her throat, not trusting her voice. “Do you understand? I have to earn my own money and build a life somewhere, and I think I can do that here. I’d like to try, anyway.”
The thought of that opportunity filled Piper with such excitement that she thought she would burst. She hadn’t felt so much hope about the future since she’d first made her plans to leave the scrap town. But mixed with that hope was sorrow too. It would be hard leaving Anna.
Anna sat silently, staring at her hands. Piper bit her lip as she felt tears coming on. She couldn’t cry now. She had to be strong. Gently, she nudged her friend with her elbow. “Listen,” she said. Her voice wavered. “No matter what I decide, I promise we’ll see each other again. I’ll come back to Noveen and visit as often as I can.” She tried to smile. “You can’t get rid of me that easy.”
“You promise?” Anna looked up. Her pleading expression almost undid Piper.
“Absolutely. Now, what are you doing over here?” Piper nodded to the weapons rack. She desperately needed a distraction.
Anna reached over and lifted a crossbow off the rack. “I remembered something,” she said. “I think I’ve used one of these before.”
“Really?” That was definitely a surprise. Piper tried to picture Anna wielding a crossbow, but she just couldn’t conjure the image. Anna was so small and fragile. “Do you remember why you used it—or who taught you how?” she asked.
“I don’t know, but the parts feel familiar. Look—they fit in my hands, and my hands know what to do.” Anna traced the trigger and the groove where the bolt was supposed to go.
It did look like Anna knew what she was doing, Piper thought. “Have you remembered anything else?” she asked.
“Sometimes I see things in my dreams,” Anna said. “I don’t always tell you, because I’m not sure what parts of them are memories and what aren’t. But sometimes they’re about Doloman and the scar, and other times I see myself doing things, like talking to the man whose voice I told you about—the one I remember reading to me before I went to sleep at night. I can’t see his face—he feels very far away—but I think he might be a scientist.”
The Mark of the Dragonfly Page 20