Alphas and Airships_A Steampunk Fairy Tale

by Melanie Karsak

  “It’s going to be close,” Jessup yelled as he adjusted the heat pan.

  I guided the helm. The Stargazer was temperamental, but we understood one another. A shake of the wheel warned me I was pushing too hard. “Almost there,” I whispered to the ship.

  The Grand Prix Marshalls were standing on the platform. Cutter and I had the end towers. I was going to make it.

  “Cut propulsion,” I yelled toward the gear galley. On the floor near the wheelstand, a rope led to a bell in the galley. I rang it twice. The propeller switched off.

  A soft, sweet wind blew in from the port side. It ruffled my hair around my shoulders. I closed my eyes and turned the wheel slightly starboard, guiding the ship in. Moments later, I heard a jubilant cheer erupt from the American side and an explosion from the firework cannon signaling the winner had been declared. My eyes popped open. I tore off my goggles and looked starboard. Cutter’s balloon was docked. I threw the goggles onto the deck and set my forehead against the wheel.

  The Stargazer settled into her dock. Jessup set the balloon on hover and, grabbing a rope, swung down to the deck. He then threw the lead lines and anchors onto the platform. The beautifully dressed crowd, gentlemen in suits and top hats and fancy ladies in a rainbow of satin gowns carrying parasols, rushed toward the American end of the platform to congratulate the winner.

  I was, once again, a national disgrace. Lily the loser. Lily second place. Perhaps I would never be anything more than a ferrywoman, a cheap air jockey.

  “Good job, Lily. Second place!” Jessup said joining me. He patted me on the shoulder.

  I sighed deeply and unbuttoned my vest. The tension had me sweating; I could feel it dripping down from my neck, between my breasts, into my corset.

  “You did great,” I told Jessup. “Sorry I let you down.”

  “Ah, Lily,” he sighed.

  Angus emerged from below wiping sweat from his head with a greasy rag. He pulled off his monocle. He frowned toward the American side. “Well, we beat the French,” he said with a shrug and kissed me on the cheek, smearing grease on me.

  “Good job, Angus. Thank you,” I said, taking him by the chin and giving him a little shake as I wrinkled my nose and smiled at him.

  Angus laughed and dropped his arm around Jessup’s shoulders. They grinned happily at one another.

  “You stink, brother,” Jessup told him.

  “It’s a wee bit toasty down there. Besides, I pedaled this ship across the entire fucking country while you were up here looking at the birds. That, my friend, is the smell of success.”

  I laughed.

  “You pedaled the ship?” Jessup asked mockingly. “Like Lil and I were just up here playing cards? If I didn’t keep the balloon aloft, your ass would be kissing the ground.”

  “Now wait a minute. Are you saying your job is more important that mine?” Angus retorted.

  I could see where this was going. “Gents.”

  “More important? Now why would I say that? Just because I’m the one . . .” Jessup started and then his mouth ran.

  “Gents.”

  “…and another thing…” Jessup went on.

  “Gentlemen! Our audience awaits,” I said cutting them both off, motioning to the well-shod crowd who waited for us on the loading platform outside the Stargazer.

  I grinned at my crew. “Come on. Let’s go.”

  I patted the rail of the Stargazer. “Thanks,” I whispered to her, and we exited onto the platform.

  A reporter from the London Times and several race officials stood waiting for me.

  “Well done, Lily! Well done!” the British race official congratulated me with a pat on the back. “Second place! King George will be so proud. One of these days you’ll have it, by God.”

  I was pretty sure that the last thing I needed was the attention of George IV, the extravagant, unpopular lush. But I bit my tongue and smiled politely.

  “Lily, how did Cutter beat you? You led the entire race,” the reporter asked. She was a round woman wearing a very thick black lace collar that looked like it was choking her. Her heavy purple walking dress looked hot under the late afternoon summer sun, and the brim of her black satin cap barely shaded her nose. I noticed, however, that she had a small clockwork fan pin attached to her chest. The fan wagged cool air toward her face.

  I pulled off my cap, mopped my forehead, and thought about the question. “Luck,” I replied.

  “Lily, that was some move around Tinkers’ Tower. How did you learn to do that?” another reporter asked.

  “My father,” I lied.

  “Make way, make way,” one of the race officials called, ushering a Marshall forward.

  The Marshall looked like someone who lingered an hour too long at supper. The gold buttons on his satin, marigold colored vest would take an eye out if they popped. His overly tall top hat was adorned with a ring of flowers that matched his striking orange colored dress coat.

  “Miss Stargazer, congratulations,” he said, shaking my hand. “The Spanish airship is coming in now. Will you please join Mr. Cutter at the winners’ podium?” he asked politely as he guided me forward by the hand.

  From below there was a commotion. A man dressed in an unusual costume rushed up the stairs. The London constables, a full squadron of the Bow Street Runners, chased him. When he got to the loading platform, the man pushed through a crowd of well-dressed ladies and gentlemen, many of whom were gentry. It was then I could see he was dressed as a harlequin. He wore the traditional red and black checked outfit and a black mask. He scanned the towers until he caught sight of me. He jumped, landing on the tower railing, and ran toward me. A woman in the crowd screamed. Moments later the constables appeared on the platform. The race Marshalls pointed toward the harlequin who was making a beeline for me.

  I let go of the Marshall’s hand and stepped back toward the ship.

  “Lily,” Jessup warned, moving protectively toward me.

  Angus reached over the deck of the Stargazer and grabbed a very large wrench.

  Was it an assassin? Christ, would someone murder me for winning second place? I turned and ran toward the Stargazer. A moment later, the harlequin flipped from the rail, grabbed one of the Stargazer’s ropes, and swinging over the others, landed on the platform directly in front of me. Any second now, I would be dead.

  He panted and muttered “Lily?” from behind the mask.

  “Stop that man! Stop him!” a constable yelled.

  “Get out of my way!” Angus roared at the crowd that had thronged in between us.

  The masked man grabbed me, tugged on the front of my trousers, and leaned into my ear. The long nose of the mask tickled the side of my face. “Go to Venice,” he whispered as he stuffed something down the front of my pants.

  “We got you now,” a constable said, grabbing him, raising his club.

  The man shook him off, took two steps backward, and with a jump, leapt off the tower.

  Several people in the crowd screamed.

  I rushed to the side of the tower to see the harlequin lying at its base. His body was twisted, and his arms and legs bent oddly, contorted into three distinct points. Blood began pooling around him.

  “Miss Stargazer, are you all right?” a constable asked.

  “A man just killed himself in front of me. No, I am not all right.”

  “I mean, are you harmed? Did he hurt you?”

  I shook my head and looked down at the mangled body which lay in the shape of a three-sided triskelion. It was the same symbol that was painted on the balloon of the Stargazer.

  Read more of Lily’s adventure in Chasing the Star Garden

 

 

 
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