The Nullification Engine (The Alchemancer: Book Two)

by Scott Marlowe

  "Good," Blyden said. "The plan is to finance the repairs to the airship, and hopefully a good deal more, by finding a buyer for it. All of it, if we play our cards right. We both know what that bloodsucker was working on. I figure there's bound to be others out there as twisted as our savant. I'd also venture they'll line up and pay good, hard coin to get their hands on what's inside those books and scrolls."

  Jacob had no issue with getting the books and such off the ship. Such diablerie had no place here. Never did, as far as he was concerned. They'd tolerated the savant's presence because they'd no choice. The man had not only designed the Griffin and overseen its construction, but he'd also been its owner. No longer, though. As written in the airship's charter, upon completion of their latest voyage, ownership of the Griffin passed to Captain Kreg. A hefty sum of money was also supposed to have passed hands as a final payment, but they'd never see that now. Selling the research was a practical decision. But not necessarily the right one.

  "Sir, I wonder if it might be better to burn the savant's books and such. As you said, we knew what he worked on while onboard. Such diablerie shouldn't be shared." They'd already tossed his laboratory equipment over the side. Why not the rest? If Jacob were captain, he'd have already done it. Too late, Jacob realized his mistake in making such a suggestion.

  Captain Kreg stared at Jacob, his jaw twitching for several long moments before he stood. "That's a damn fine idea, Jacob." Coming out from behind his desk, Captain Kreg stopped mere inches from his first mate. He took full advantage of his greater height—he was taller by at least a head—to look down his nose at the other man. "Let's toss it all overboard. Never mind it's worth a small fortune. It's the right thing to do. I'm sure the men will agree. You can explain how we tossed it all away right before you tell them how we can't pay them for the past three months' service. Also, since the Griffin is effectively grounded until repairs are complete, you'll have to inform them of how they'll all have to take on city jobs in order to fulfill the time left on their contracts. I'm sure they won't mind if every dram they make goes straight to the ship's coffers so we can pay for parts and such. It should go over well enough with them, don't you think?"

  "Sir, I meant no—"

  "It'll go over so well, most will desert," Captain Kreg said, raising his voice. "Then where will we be? No money for repairs and no airmen to fly the damn ship. A bad situation gone worse is what we'll have then." Captain Kreg leaned closer. He looked like he wanted to spit. "Do you remember what I asked you on the day I hired you, Jacob?"

  Jacob did.

  "I asked if you were ready to make the hard decisions. You told me you were. Well, are you?"

  "Yes, sir, of course, but—"

  "I knew your reputation from the service, and I took you on anyway because you convinced me you were the man I needed for the job. Sometimes, making the hard decisions means getting your damn hands dirty, Jacob. If you haven't the nerve to get yours dirty, then by the Old Gods, maybe it's time the Griffin and her first officer part—"

  "No, sir!"

  Captain Kreg narrowed his gaze.

  Jacob took a deep breath, hoping it settled his rising anger. "No, sir," he said in a tight voice. "I am your man. If selling the savant's research to the highest bidder is the best way to get the airship back in the air, then I'm with you."

  The captain spent a moment longer looking down at his first mate before stepping back and returning to the other side of his desk. He remained standing. "You probably won't have to get those pretty hands of yours dirty, anyway. I'll take on the task of finding us a buyer. You stay focused on the ship and getting her repaired and ready. I don't want to remain grounded any longer than necessary."

  "Yes, sir." Jacob took another deep breath. It wasn't working. He tried to keep his words even-keeled. "If there's nothing else...?"

  There was not, and so Jacob left the captain's cabin. Heading abovedeck, he acknowledged the salutes of several airmen without thought as he fought to contain his anger. Jacob considered himself a man of patience and tolerance. Captain Kreg routinely tested both. Not by accident, either. The man wanted him off the Griffin. Not just Jacob, but a whole handful of others as well. Jacob didn't know to what end. If his plan was to drive everyone away at the conclusion of their contracts, then it was a poor plan indeed. Captain Kreg needed more than just his lonesome to fly the airship. Or maybe the captain wasn't trying to drive everyone away. Just those who refused to lick his boots. Airmen like Lundy Mortimar, along with some others, were more than at the captain's beck and call. They'd do anything he asked, no matter the task. Some of them had the reputation for it too. Jacob rattled off the list in his mind of those he knew fell into this camp, realizing as he did so that their names came up for disciplinary action far less than some others. Every captain had favorites, but with the captain just having taken ownership of the vessel, Jacob did not feel his realization boded well for many of their futures.

  He wasn't quite through the hatchway when Jacob heard Tippin bellowing. By the sound of it, the sergeant had his deckhands offloading spent supplies, and damn if any one of them was going to get a moment's rest until it was done. Jacob smiled despite his agitation. Good, honest work never hurt anyone. Jacob found himself envying the men for it. As he settled into a spot out of the way on the quarter deck, Jacob waited for Tippin to take a breath to get a word in.

  "Sergeant! At your convenience!"

  Tippin's convenience was right now. He strode over and saluted. "What can I do for you, sir?"

  Jacob shook his head and let out a breath. He placed both his hands on the ship's gunwale and looked out over their docking berth. They'd had to come down on a framing apparatus. With a hole in her side as big as a house, the Griffin was not well-suited to landing in water right now. "None of that 'sir' business when it's just the two of us, Tippin. You know that."

  "Yes, sir, but I'm an army man." Tippin came to stand next to Jacob. "When I address an officer, it'll be with the proper respect or not at all."

  "Yes, well, I'm not really an officer, am I? I may be first mate of a very special ship, but I don't even rank midshipman in the Duke's Navy."

  "Doesn't matter, sir. Captain's made it abundantly clear that military protocol is followed on his ship, and so that's how it'll be."

  Jacob sighed. Tippin was as stubborn as he was reliable. Best to just give up this argument now.

  "So what can I do for you, sir?"

  "Right," Jacob said, returning his thoughts to business. "I saw, or rather heard, the dwarves disembark. What about the others?"

  When the savant had come onboard, he'd brought with him a small group of prisoners taken from Norwynne. Tippin had been amongst them. The others had been Jadjin, the boy Rail, and a pair who had decided to jump from the ship—and to their deaths—soon after they'd gained their freedom.

  "Jadjin left as soon as we set down."

  A healer, the woman's skills had seen great demand after the girl had caused her mayhem. Jacob himself had offered Jadjin a permanent post onboard. He was disappointed to hear she'd decided not to take it.

  "What about Rail?" Jacob asked.

  "He's staying on. Seems the boy has no family in Norwynne, so no reason to hurry back."

  "Good. I mean, I'm glad we can offer the boy a home." Jacob took in a breath and let it out. "I'm heading into the city. I'd like you to come along. We'll need parts for the engine you can't just buy off a shelf, so I'm going to see if I can dig up a tinkerer or two."

  "Count me in, sir. I'll pass my present duties to Mr. Gyles."

  While Tippin saw to that, Jacob went to the other side of the deck to see how Lundy's crew was getting on with the balloon. With the engines in shutdown, gas in the balloon rapidly leaked off, leaving the normally majestic inflatable drooping from fore to aft. The procedure for storing the apparatus was as delicate as the apparatus itself, but it was something Lundy, as ship's boatswain, was intimately familiar with. Jacob made a quick perusal of his progress a
nyway. His inquiries were met with a curt affirmation of no issues and another mock salute which Jacob let pass.

  Jacob collected Tippin at the gangplank. Since the Griffin had set down as far from the city as possible, they found themselves walking through the majority of the shipyard. The place was strangely quiet. Despite the early hour, by maritime standards the day was nearly half over, so it was odd not seeing carpenters cutting and sanding, laborers scrambling on or about half-built hulls or decks, and foremen shouting at all of them to work faster or harder or both. Jacob had never been to Brighton before, but he knew its shipbuilding industry was one of Seacea's largest. It owed that to its plentiful supply of lumber, cut from the nearby forest and transported either by wagon on Galway Road or by flat-bottom barge via the Silvercross River. Brighton's shipbuilders were craftsmen in their own right, constructing everything from sloops to schooners to merchant barques to the large galleons used by the Seacean Navy. Finished vessels were floated down the Whitecrest to the city of Fairgate, where they were sold, auctioned, or sailed straight into the Barrens if a buyer had already been arranged. Trade also came up the Whitecrest, and while a number of ships were anchored at the river docks, there was scant activity there now. Speculation provided Jacob few answers until they ran into Miles Stanworth, whom Jacob had sent out earlier to settle with the yardmaster.

  "Afraid we may have a tough time gettin' the materials we need for repairs, sir," Miles said, flashing them both a salute. "Most of the lumber coming in is going straight inside the city. Most of the workers too. Yardmaster said they got hit pretty hard by an earthquake about a week ago. Did plenty of damage and then some."

  The Griffin had been airborne when Erlek had launched his elemental attack against Norwynne, but the sergeant had filled Jacob in on events of that night as he'd known them. Jacob had little doubt the earthquakes were one and the same, though he was surprised its effect had reached this far. Tippin grunted at the news. Whatever his thoughts, he kept them to himself.

  Miles returned to the Griffin, while Jacob and Tippin made their way to Brighton's nearest gate. Even from outside they saw the telltale signs of quake damage in the form of great cracks in the mortar and stone of the city's wall. A little ways into the city, they saw where all of the yard and dockworkers had gone. Up and down the main street and into side avenues, scaffolding covered the fronts of nearly every building and shop. Workers scurried up and down the latticework like spiders, carrying materials and tools to repair damage to mortar, wood, and stone. The streets were especially busy and crowded too, though Jacob saw no market, festival, or other such thing to warrant the presence of so many people.

  Cutting away from the main road lessened the crowds some. Jacob supposed they'd have to ask someone for directions to the nearest brazier or coppersmith. They'd start with one such craftsman, then find another, making sure to spread the work around as the captain had requested. Spotting a boy loitering at the other side of the street, Jacob instructed Tippin to stay put while he went to get the information they needed. The street was busy with wagons and carriages, and so he looked both ways, making sure it was safe to cross. One way was clear, but the other... Jacob stopped dead in his tracks, for lurching down the street was a carriage the like of which he'd never seen before. Evidently he wasn't the only one, for people were stopping all up and down the sidewalk to gawk at this thing which looked like a carriage, decked out with lacquered wood and frilly trim, but which moved entirely of its own volition not on wheels, but on six metallic legs. The carriage bobbed up and down as each leg lifted, swung forward, and came back down in such a way Jacob was reminded of how an insect scurried about. Sitting up top was a driver, but how he steered the contraption Jacob had no idea, for he saw no wheel or other steering mechanism. In fact, Jacob wondered if the man did anything at all, for he looked either half-asleep or drunk. Yet the carriage drove straight enough. It made such a racket, too, that most people gave it a wide berth. All except for one woman, who stepped onto the road directly in the carriage's path. She held a hand to her forehead and had such a wobble to her step, Jacob wondered if she'd just stepped off a seafaring vessel and was still trying to find her land legs. She seemed totally unaware of the contraption bearing down on her.

  "Miss!" Jacob called out. He plunged into the street, almost immediately having to stop to let another carriage—this one conventional—clatter by before he made it even halfway. Meanwhile, the very unconventional carriage loomed ever closer to the woman, who still had no idea it headed straight for her. No time for further warnings, Jacob dashed the remainder of the way. The moment he was within arm's reach of her, he wrapped one arm about her waist and lifted her clear. She let out a gasp, but better than getting run over, Jacob thought.

  "Are you all right, miss?" Jacob set her down, maintaining his grip, for she seemed out of sorts. "I'm sorry to have grabbed you so, but you were standing right in the way of that carriage and—"

  Jacob was just gesturing toward the lurching carriage, which had stopped now, when someone took hold of his wrist and twisted. Such was the pain, Jacob cried out as he doubled over. His tricorn came loose and tumbled to the ground. Looking up, he recognized the man holding him as the strange carriage's driver. Neither half-asleep nor drunk, Jacob realized it was just how the man looked.

  "Nod, release the gentleman."

  The woman's voice was a whisper barely heard. Nod certainly hadn't, or at least he pretended not to as he grabbed Jacob by the front of his frock and heaved him straight up into the air.

  A petite, gloved hand touched the giant's arm. "Nod, please let go of him," the woman said, louder this time. "The gentleman meant no harm."

  "That's right, Nod," Jacob said, gasping. "The gentleman meant no harm at all."

  Still the giant wouldn't let go.

  "Nod!"

  This time, the woman balled her fist and punched Nod in the side. The blow was nothing to the giant, but it got her message across as he finally released Jacob. Not gently, either, as the brute shoved him back hard enough he stumbled and nearly went down. But Jacob was a seaman, and so well-used to the erratic motions of a ship's deck that he easily kept his legs under him.

  The young lady came to stand in front of Nod.

  Jacob inspected his wrist, which seemed no worse for wear, before leaning over to retrieve his discarded tricorn. Straightening, he immediately started, for Tippin stood right next to him. He flashed the sergeant a look of annoyance as he settled his tricorn under one arm.

  "My thanks for the assistance," Jacob said.

  Tippin smiled. "With the lady or the giant, sir?"

  Jacob didn't dignify the question with an answer.

  "I do apologize for Nod's behavior, sir," the young lady said in a whisper. She held a kerchief to her mouth for some reason. "But whatever were you doing taking me away from my carriage?"

  "Your carriage?" Jacob asked. "You mean that contraption is yours?"

  "My father's, actually. But he lets me use it from time to time. It's unique to Brighton, though I hear everyone in Sirron has one. They're in very high demand there. My family is lucky to have this one."

  "Lucky? I suppose one would have to have plenty of luck before stepping inside such a..." Jacob searched his mind for the right word.

  "Contraption?" she said, the glint in her eyes conveying the smile hidden behind her kerchief.

  "Yes, contraption!"

  Jacob wondered why she kept her mouth covered. She had the most lovely face, and so he imagined she'd a smile to match. For some reason, he very much wanted to see her smile.

  "My father thinks it's the future of travel, and the safest way to get about the city. Otherwise, believe me, he'd never let me anywhere near it."

  In his scrutiny of the young lady's face, which looked very pale to him, Jacob thought he saw a stain of red on the kerchief. Blood. "Miss? Are you all right? If I've in any way harmed you—"

  "No! No, sir. I'm perfectly fine."

  She turned away,
disposing of the kerchief somewhere on her person so that once she turned back, Jacob did not see any blood on or around her mouth, leaving him to wonder if he'd seen anything at all. But at least now he saw her face in its entirety. Chestnut hair, tied back, framed a face both soft and delicate. Her eyes were of a similar color and her lips, as slight and pink as he had imagined. She was young, perhaps early twenties, though Jacob never considered himself much good at estimating such things. He tore his mind from her appearance to focus instead on her malady, if indeed she even had one.

  "Are you sure?" Jacob asked. "Because you seemed a tad out of sorts, which is why with that, ah, contraption, bearing down on you, I thought you might need assistance."

  "I'm quite fine, but I thank you for your concern. Nod would never let anything happen to me. He's very protective."

  Jacob lifted a brow. "So I've noticed."

  "And, besides, he stopped the carriage with plenty of room to spare."

  Looking at the carriage's location, Jacob saw what she said was true. Still, he hadn't known the carriage was going to stop.

  Just then an older gentleman in jacket and top hat, strolling by, stopped when he saw the young woman. "Ms. Kelm!" he said, removing his hat with a flourish as he bowed. "Good morning to you!"

  Ms. Kelm smiled. "Good morning to you as well, Mr. Potts."

  "Please tell your father his latest shipment fit the bill exactly!"

  "I will, Mr. Potts. He so likes to hear such good things from his customers."

  And with that, Mr. Potts was on his way.

  The short episode lasted long enough for Jacob to gain a new perspective on Ms. Kelm. While her carriage in its present position blocked considerable traffic, forcing other carriages to come up short and move around with some effort, not a single person complained. Also, as he studied the people walking past, most gave the woman and her bodyguard or servant or whatever he was a wide berth. Whether out of respect, fear, or something else altogether, Jacob couldn't say. Such wasn't his business, anyway. But there was something of Ms. Kelm and Mr. Potts's encounter which had at least piqued his interest, which he felt he had some leeway to explore.