Driftmetal V

by J. C. Staudt

I felt bad. “Tell you what,” I said. “Once we find the money, you can have the stupid car. We’ll pick it up with the Ostelle on our way out of the Heights. Then once you get back to Pyras, you can drive it around like a high-roller.”

  “There are very few motorcars in Pyras,” he said.

  “Then you’ll feel extra special.”

  The next buried thing Evelyn Two found was an aluminum hull panel, shed from some airship or other. It was late afternoon now, and there were hints of darkness on the horizon. We proceeded to locate and dig up an old wristwatch, a tangle of steel rebar, half a cracked percussionist’s cymbal, a wrench, and the leg of a cast iron chair, along with several chips, gears, tin cans, and various other pieces of worthless junk. The place was like a landfill.

  Also, we found the treasure. That’s right, our walking metal detector finally located the chest for us. It was after dark by then, and we were all so tired and sweaty and covered in dirt that no one jumped for joy when I lifted the heavy box from the earth and opened the lid to reveal its gleaming contents.

  “Gods, I’m an idiot,” I breathed, my eyes wide with renewed awe. “I promise you right now, I will never let you out of my sight again as long as I live.”

  “Who are you talking to?” Sable asked.

  “The money, Sable. I’m talking to the money.”

  I knelt there for a while, staring at more chips than I could ever need. Not more than I could spend, mind you. But enough to spend the rest of my life in a hammock between two palm trees somewhere.

  I wanted to disappear. In fact, I gave the idea some serious thought. I could’ve sailed away with my clean criminal record and my fortune in gold, never to return to the realms of humankind again.

  Problem was, these chips didn’t belong to me. Not technically. Technically, they were stolen. That wouldn’t have bothered me, except when I envisioned spending the rest of my aforementioned life having nightmares about those gray, crumbling buildings and all the dead people inside.

  “So much for dinner aboard,” I muttered, hoisting the chest onto my shoulder.

  “Why don’t you let Evelyn Two carry it for you?” Chaz suggested.

  “Yeah, right. That’d be the perfect time for the stupid thing to develop its own free will and run off with my loot.”

  “Suit yourself.”

  “Hey, you all should be happy I’m being so protective of it,” I said. “Some of this is yours. A very small percentage, but a percentage nonetheless.”

  “Ours?”

  “Well, Chaz, I was the numbskull who buried the money where I couldn’t find it. It’s back in my hands thanks to your tinkering. You deserve a cut for that reason alone. As for these two fine sailors, they were some of the folks who helped me steal the gravstone that got me all this money in the first place. I figure ten-thousand each ought to cover it.”

  “What are you going to do with the rest?”

  “Depends on whether Yingler has the money he stole from Gilfoyle and Pyras. Sorry—the money he ‘confiscated’ in the Regency’s name. If Yingler won’t play fair, which is the most likely scenario, I’m going to give a million of this to Pyras, a million to Gilfoyle, and keep the rest. It’ll be my gift to myself for going through so much crap to save a bunch of primies.”

  “Aw. He’s getting sentimental in his old age,” Sable said.

  “Am not.”

  “What if Yingler returns the money he stole?” Thorley asked.

  “Then I’m keeping every last chip in this box that doesn’t go toward paying my crew or giving you guys a cut.”

  The crowds on Everwynd’s dark streets were thinning out by the time we got back and made for the Skywalk Jetty. My whole body was sore, but I wasn’t about to stop for a breather. The last thing I needed was to get robbed by some bottom-of-the-barrel street thief.

  I almost lost my balance coming up the gangplank to my Ostelle, which would’ve been very bad. I can only imagine what my crew would’ve done when they saw two-and-a-half million gold chips spilled out across the ground. I was heading for my cabin when a hysterical Rindhi emerged from the shadows to accost me.

  “Mr. Jakes. I have been waiting for you.”

  “Not now, Rindhi.”

  “I want to know what you will do with Thomas,” he said.

  “I’m a little busy.”

  “You told me to ask you again in a few years,” Rindhi said. “It has been longer than that.”

  “I don’t think you understand what a year is.”

  “Thomas is my closest friend. Whatever his fate, I would sooner share it than go on alone. I can wait no longer.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Rindhi. You’re marginally better than that. For one thing, you’ve got a useful, real-world skill, which you’ve spent a huge part of your life developing. There are rich people everywhere in need of good translators. By contrast, no one anywhere is in need of Tom. Except you, apparently.”

  “I have not slept in days. It would be a great relief to me if you gave Thomas a forgiveness.”

  I shifted the chest on my shoulder. “Look, I’m kind of in the middle of something right now, so I’ll decide whether to give Thomas one or more forgivenesses tomorrow. You have my word as a gentleman and a scholar, of which I am neither.”

  Rindhi gave me a strange look. “I will see you in the morning, then.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  After a quick briefing from Mr. Sarmiel, I entered my cabin, locked the door behind me, and slid the chest under my bed. I peeled off my dirty, sweaty clothes, and collapsed onto the mattress. I’d meant to talk with Yingler as soon as I got back, but now that I was lying down, I was too exhausted to move. With Rindhi adamant about having an answer in the morning, it was kind of important that I interrogate Yingler soon. The night closed in around me, and before I could force myself to get up and head for the brig, I was fast asleep.

  4

  Rindhi was too polite to knock on my door, but he had no problem waiting outside my door like a phantom until I emerged the next morning, yawning and scratching my butt.

  I cried out in surprise when he materialized in front of me. “Gah. Can I at least get some breakfast before you continue hounding me about this?”

  “I have not been permitted to see Thomas since we left Roathea,” Rindhi said.

  “There’s a good reason for that. You’d spring him from lockup the first chance you got.”

  “I do not understand why you are suddenly so mistrusting. Have we not been through much together?”

  “I consider you guilty by association,” I said. “You and Thomas are a package deal.”

  “I promise you, I only want to see him.”

  “I want to stuff my face with dead animals,” I said, and started to move past him.

  “You gave me your word.”

  “As a gentleman,” I reminded him. “That doesn’t count. I do intend to keep my word, for the record. Just not yet.”

  “I will go with you.”

  “Do you have to?”

  “I will follow you around this ship until you honor my request.”

  “Want to make a bet? Also, please don’t.”

  “These delaying tactics have persisted long enough,” Rindhi said.

  I felt the medallion pulse, but I swallowed my anger. “Alright. Listen. You can come as far as the cargo bay. I’m going to go into the brig without you first. When I come back out, I’ll let you visit with Thomas for a few minutes. Deal?”

  “And you will decide his fate today?”

  “I’ll decide his fate when I’m ready to,” I said. “It may need to wait until we’ve put all this Maclin nonsense behind us, just so he doesn’t get any ideas.”

  I recruited Thorley on my way below. I needed someone big-boned for what I was about to do. When we’d left Rindhi standing outside the cargo bay, we entered the brig and crossed the room to Yingler’s cell. He was dozing on the thin bed within. He didn’t get up when we came over.

  “Unlock it,�
�� I said.

  Rab Riley and Abbott Greenwood, the two hulking guards I’d commissioned to watch the brig, stood with Thorley in front of the door. Rab unlocked it and let me in.

  I collared Yingler and dragged him to the floor. When he tried to sit up, I hit him in the head with a left hook. Thomas watched from the adjacent cell as I gave Yingler a few more meaningful touches.

  Yingler grunted with each blow, raising his arms to shield himself. “What’s this about, Jakes?”

  “Where’s the money, Yingler?”

  “What money?”

  “Your money. Don’t play dumb with me. You sold a bunch of gravstone to Alastair Gilfoyle and then confiscated the proceeds instead of giving it to Pyras. Four million chips, if I remember correctly. Which I do. Where is it?”

  He looked up at me and grinned. His lip was split open and his teeth were stained with blue-violet blood. “It’s gone,” he said. “You’ll never see a single chip of that money.”

  “How sure are you of that?”

  He frowned, confused. “What?”

  “How sure are you that I’ll never see any of that money?”

  “As sure as I could possibly be. Why?”

  “We’re going to Pyras. When we get there, I’m going to throw you to the wolves unless you start talking.”

  “You’re bluffing,” he said, and spat blood on my trousers.

  I whipped my knuckles across his face, then sank my knee into his groin and pushed him against the wall by the neck. I could feel his breath rasping through his windpipe. Some of my earlier anger at Rindhi had spilled over into this conversation, a discharge of pent-up aggression fueled by the medallion’s influence. “You willing to bet four million chips on that?”

  Yingler’s eyes rolled back into his head. He focused on me again, his stare glazed and impassive. “Three million,” he said.

  “You charged him four.”

  He smiled. “I didn’t tell Kupfer that. I kept a million for myself. On top of that, the Regency awarded me a percentage of the other three million.”

  “Like what kind of percentage?”

  “Ten.”

  “Three-hundred thousand,” I said.

  “Very good.”

  “Shut up.”

  I did the math. Yingler’s money, plus the money in the chest under my bed, came out to almost three million. That was enough to set things right with Pyras, but it left nothing for paying back Gilfoyle. Or for paying my crew and my friends. And of course, that meant there was nothing left over for me, either.

  “So you want yourself a taste, do you?” Yingler said. “You’ll give me to the primies unless I pay up, is that it? Okay, let’s talk. How much?”

  I let him go and stood up. “All of it.”

  A dry wheeze came from Yingler’s throat. He was laughing. “My life for my fortune.”

  “That’s about the size of it,” I said. “So I’ll ask again… where’s the money?”

  He gave another dry, mirthless chuckle. “The bank.” He said the words as though he’d just told me his money was locked in an invisible flying safe.

  “You think I’m scared of a bank?” I said. “The wood keeping your sorry keister from plummeting to the Churn is only there thanks to my vast experience with banks.”

  “I doubt you’ve ever come across a bank like this before,” Yingler said.

  “Ooh, a challenge. Keep talking.”

  “Not until you guarantee my safety.”

  “I can guarantee I’m going to wear a hole in my boot with your face. That’s about it.”

  He flicked his eyes up at me. “Wear away.”

  “I’ll save that for later. I already know where this bank of yours is anyway.”

  He laughed. “Sure you do.”

  “It’s in Seskamode,” I said.

  Yingler’s expression sobered. He followed with a cool smile, but that brief delay was the only clue I needed. “Nice try,” he said.

  “Malwyn and DeGaffe are going to piss themselves when I give them you and all your money.” I turned to exit Yingler’s cell.

  “What makes you think it’s in Seskamode?” he asked, the resolve in his voice wavering.

  “I don’t think that,” I said. “I know.”

  “How?”

  “There’s truth in every lie,” I said. “And you, my good man, should not have lied to your mother.”

  “What’s that supposed to—” he said, stopping short with sudden realization.

  “Did you ever tell her you’re not actually running for Mayor of Seskamode?”

  “You leave my family out of this.”

  I turned back. “Do you believe me now? I told you I was there, didn’t I? I met your mom and your sister at the Yingler Delicatessen in Lowell’s Market. I’m sure you’re prepared to endure a lot of pain, Vilaris. What you have to decide is whether they are.”

  Yingler said nothing.

  “You have until sunset.” I stepped out of the cell and let Rab lock the door behind me.

  Yingler rubbed his bruises and scowled at me while Thorley went to fetch Rindhi for his rendezvous with Thomas.

  “Relax, Tom,” I said. “Rindhi has been bugging me to see you non-stop since we left Roathea, so I’ve decided to let you two have a few minutes of visiting time. Make it count.”

  Rindhi entered the room. Through the bars of Thomas’s cell, the two long-lost friends embraced. They held hands as they conversed. Stories were shared. Tears were cried. Laughter happened. It was the most melodramatic display of simpering mush I’d ever seen.

  I held out until I couldn’t take it any longer. “If you guys don’t stop crying, I’m going to drown in my own vomit.”

  Rindhi turned toward me, his cheeks wet with tears. “Set him free, Mr. Jakes. You must set him free.”

  “Set yourself free from that death grip and get out. Time’s up.”

  “You told me you would decide about Thomas,” Rindhi said.

  “And I have. I’ve decided I need him for something. Tom stays right where he is until I’m done with him. And you are no longer permitted to see him.”

  Rindhi’s face went hot.

  Thomas’s went cold. “What is it you need, Mr. Jakes?”

  “You’ll find out soon enough. For now, time to shut it down. I’ve got a big day ahead of me. We’re setting sail for Seskamode as soon as we make a quick pit stop.”

  Thorley came just shy of having to remove Rindhi forcibly from the brig. After I had reiterated to Rab and Abbott that no one was to be allowed entry to the brig, we left Thomas and Yingler alone in the guards’ capable hands. Rindhi stomped off without a word.

  When I came up top, the sun was hiding behind a pink strand of low-hanging clouds. A brisk wind cut a path through the jetty as I took my place and ordered all hands to their stations. The familiar feeling of weightlessness as we lifted off was a relief. We’d been ground-bound for far too long.

  “Tell your lookouts to keep their eyes peeled, Mr. Sarmiel,” I shouted above the wind. “Somewhere out in the moors, there’s a blue motorcar half-buried in the ground.”

  Sarmiel gave me a sideways glance, but all he said was, “Aye, sir,” and repeated the order.

  The motorcar was easy to spot, nestled within the huge crater we’d dug around it. We touched down beside it and, without cutting the engines, used the Evelyns to pry the car loose and carry it into the hold. After that, it was goodbye Kalican Heights. The edge of the floater passed beneath us, and we glided into open air.

  “You’ve got your motorcar, Chaz,” I told him in the workshop later. “Now I think it’s about time you gave me a little something.”

  All he gave me was a confused look.

  “For weeks now, I’ve been feeling like a cookie jar at fat camp,” I said.

  “How’s that?”

  “Empty. Dr. Ditmarus took my cast off yesterday and said my arm is as good as new. About time you knocked me out and gave me some new augments.”

  “But I’ve ha
rdly had any time to test them,” he said.

  “Stop being a pansy.”

  He wrinkled his mouth as if he’d just tasted something sour. “Some of these schematics are nothing more than proofs of concept. I would have to build prototypes and safety-test them, gather usability data, work out the proper neurological pathways—”

  “Have I ever told you how annoying you are when you’re being smart?”

  Chaz shrugged. “I have some solid ideas, but that’s all they are just yet.”

  “Fine. Have it your way, Chaz. Seskamode is several days downstream from here. I’m going to need some new machinery by the time we get there.”

  “What are you getting into, Muller?”

  “Yingler’s money is in an account at the Seskamode Trust. If we can’t make a withdrawal, we’re going to tear the place down.”

  “You’re going to go in without knowing what security measures this bank uses and expect to have all your bases covered?”

  “By the time I go in, I’ll know everything about their security measures.”

  “How are you going to do that?”

  “Gods, I love your inquisitive nature. It makes all my well-laid plans sound like napkin drawings. When we get to Seskamode, my distinguished accomplice Thomas Smedley is going to get himself a job. He’ll find out what we need to know. Once we have every speck of gold in Yingler’s account, we’ll have some financial leverage when we meet with Gilfoyle. After that, it’s Pyras, then back to Roathea to deactivate the Galvos army and restore our young Regent to his throne.”

  “That’s quite a full schedule,” Chaz said.

  “What else is new? The only thing that surprises me is how many people I’m going to help and how little money I’m going to have afterward.”

  “You’re becoming a real do-gooder,” Chaz said with a genial smile. “You’ve definitely gotten nicer since I’ve known you.”

  “If you ever say that again, I’ll shove my foot so far up your keister you’ll be trimming my toenails with your teeth.”

  Chaz swept his long black hair into a tieback and donned his welding mask. He grabbed a blowtorch and sparked it to flame. “I can think of several good ways to trim your toenails, if you ever need any help.”

  I laughed. “I’m not the only one who’s changed since we’ve known each other.”