“Good,” the Captain said, clapping her hard on the back, “Let’s see if you’re clever enough to help Suraj over there repair our propeller housing. If you succeed, you can remain as you are. If you fail, you’ll join the chain gangs turning the propellers below!” With that, he turned and led the group of men around the house to where a platform from his ship had been lowered to the ground. The man holding her pulled her along roughly by her hair. They stepped onto the platform. The man standing next to the captain looked up, put his thumb and index finger to his mouth and whistled loudly. The platform began to raise.
CHAPTER 6
Captive
The Madrausan ship was a vile place. If anyone ever doubted whether evil exists as a tangible entity, a visit to that ship would have confirmed it in a single heartbeat.
The platform rose—pulled up by ropes attached to each side until it came alongside, even with the warships deck. Men secured the platform as the Captain stepped off. One of the men behind her pushed her roughly as she was stepping over the platform’s raised edge onto the deck and she fell forward onto her knees, bruising them. She heard the other men laughing. She raised her head and looked around her as she got back to her feet, resignation filling her bosom, welcomingly replacing the fear and panic she had expected to be there.
The long deck of the warship had a solid railing, which was actually just an extension of the ship’s side that rose three feet on both sides of the deck and was lined with cannon’s on carriages, their gun crews sitting lazily about. The main mast rose directly in front of her, its single rectangular sail stowed along its yard arm. A smaller mast stood towards the bow of the ship.
Esther looked aft and saw dozens of men, women, and children huddled together on their knees in front of the wall leading up to the quarterdeck, their hands bound tightly behind them with cords. Men stood guard over them. One of the older boys who Esther recognized as Hans Schmidt looked up briefly, but was immediately clubbed to the ground by one of the guards.
A woman’s screaming voice penetrated the air, coming from below deck. Terrified, Esther shut her eyes tightly, her body starting to shake. She tried not to think about the poor woman.
She opened her eyes again when the Captain muttered something to one of his men before he walked past the prisoners and climbed a short steep stairway onto the quarterdeck where a helmsman stood behind a large wheel. A massive rudder rose up above his head behind him.
Esther flinched as someone grabbed her hair and jerked her around. The man the captain had called Suraj let go of her hair and spoke in a heavily accented voice, “The Capt’n told me tuh bring you along tuh work on the starboard mid-aft propeller housin’. ‘e wants it fixed ’fore we move the prisoners tuh the transports. He says that you are so clever with your tricks that you should be able tuh figure out how tuh get it working right. If not, then you can turn the propeller oar-shafts for the rest of your very short life.”
The man turned and walked towards the front of the ship, obviously expecting her to follow him. Esther looked back sorrowfully at the prisoners one last time before scuttling after him.
“Get over here boy,” Suraj spat. He attached a rope to an odd looking harness he was wearing—some sort of safety harness, Esther assumed.
“Out there, boy, is the propeller housin’,” he said, pointing out beyond the edge of the ship. Esther walked up to the wooden railing and looked at where the man was pointing. A long, rectangular latticed stanchion extended out from the side of the ship. A large propeller attached to a horizontal cone shaped housing sat at the far end of the stanchion. A shaft extended out from a round port hole in the side of the ship and ran down the center of the latticed stanchion into the side of the housing cone. Thick ropes attached to the far end of the stanchion, stretching up to the top of the main mast, supporting the stanchion and propeller housing. Other thick ropes extended out from midway down the stanchion and were fastened to the side of the ship, fore and aft. There were five different stanchions on this side of the ship. As she leaned over the railing and looked back, she could see a sixth, shortened stanchion jutting out from the stern of the ship on this side as well. To Esther, the aft propellers appeared to be larger than the side propellers.
She turned to see Suraj climbing over the railing and down several ladder rungs fixed to the side of the ship. When he reached the stanchion, he took a step out onto it, then turned and looked up at her. “Are ya coming, or should we just chain ya tuh the oar shafts now?” he said in his thickly accented, stumbling voice.
“I want one of those harnesses,” she said, pointing to his harness and trying to sound confident despite the fear that caused her hands to shake.
He sneered. “You show me that ya can fix the propeller and then maybe next time I will give ya a harness.”
Realizing that she didn’t much of a choice, Esther climbed over the railing and down the rungs. Heights didn’t bother her much, but her hands still shook from the shock of confrontation and fear, and not having a harness made her nervous. Two wide boards fastened to the top of the stanchion created a small platform and she stepped onto it. She turned around carefully until she was facing away from the ship, her back pressed up against the ladder rungs, her heart hammering in her chest. Suraj smiled wickedly at her uneasiness and turned, walking along the wooden stanchion. He slid his rope into a metal hook set about halfway out. Esther followed, stepping off the small platform onto the wooden lattices. She looked down through the large gaps between the lattices at the propeller shaft running through the center of the stanchion, and below that to the ground ninety feet down, illuminated only by the dim moonlight and the fires from some of the burning buildings.
The stanchion bounced up and down with each step, becoming more pronounced as they reached the end where the propeller housing was located. Esther grabbed onto the thick rope that ran from the stanchion’s tip up to the main mast, pulling herself up against it and just stood there for a moment, her eyes closed, waiting for the bouncing to subside. When she opened them, she saw Suraj kneeling down, undoing a clasp on the propeller housing. Being out here at the tip of the stanchion and trying to work without a safety harness is going to get me killed, she thought.
There was quite a bit of slack in the rope attached to Suraj’s safety harness, so she stuck her foot out and wormed the rope around her ankle a couple of times. Hopefully, if she slipped and fell, that might save her. Suraj finished pushing open the propeller housing and turned to her. “Alright, since you seem tuh be so clever boy,” he said, “What’s wrong wit’ it and how do we fix it?”
Esther knelt down, stretching her hand out to grab the lip of the housing, and pulled herself over to lean on its edge, looking down inside. The oar-shaft entered the side of the housing and was fixed to a large wheel with a diameter that extended the full length of the coned housing. Wooden cogs stuck out from all around the face of the wheel and fit into a cage gear at the base of the cone that was fitted onto the end of the propeller itself.
Esther was not a mechanic, nor did she have any formal education, but she had studied a book on gears that she had borrowed from one of the carpenter’s in town, Mr. Cartwright, and found it fascinating…especially the pictures of the various types of gears. She could see that these gears had a lot of wear and that most of the cogs extending from the face of the large wheel into the cage gear were worn quite short and would not transfer power very well. Some had broken off completely.
Esther turned back around to tell Suraj as much, but stopped short when she saw his expression—his face was contorted with anger and he had murder in his eyes. Suddenly, he reached out and shoved her—hard. Although Esther had half expected to be murdered at every moment since boarding this ship, she was still surprised by his actions and such callous disregard for life. Terror gripped her heart as she fell off the aft side of the stanchion, her arms wind-milling as she fell, trying to catch something—anything—to save her. She hit her elbow on the propeller as she fell, sen
ding a mad tingling sensation up her arm, and then the rope tightened around her leg, jerking her up short to dangle upside down under the stanchion. Suraj was pulled off his feet when the rope attached to his harness arrested her fall, and he slid off the stanchion, slamming into her as it jerked him up short as well.
Esther’s leg flared with intense pain as the rope supporting both their weight tightened around her leg where it was wrapped and a sharp cry escaped her lips. Tears of pain moistened her eyes and she gritted her teeth to keep from crying out again. They hung precariously from the safety rope that ran up to the stanchion, through the metal hook, and back up to the deck railing. Suraj grabbed her hair, cursing at her. He yanked her head back and reached for his knife. Esther moved quicker, however—having noted the knife previously—and had already pulled it out of its scabbard. Almost instinctively, she slid the blade under his harness and pulled upward with a slicing motion. The belted harness parted under the knife’s sharp edge.
A momentary look of astonishment crossed his face as the harness gave way, and then he was falling. Esther shut her eyes tightly against his screams. They cut off abruptly a moment later as he hit the ground ninety feet below. She didn’t look down. Relief flooded her briefly as the immense pain in her leg eased somewhat with the lessened weight, and then guilt stabbed at her again as she thought about what that easement of pain had cost a man. She looked up at the ship and saw the Captain with several men staring at her over the railing. His face was expressionless. Finally, he turned and walked away. Obviously, no help was coming. In fact, he’d probably kill her once she pulled herself back up.
Esther hung there a moment, trying to process what had just happened and let her racing heart slow a little, but the pain in her leg and her precarious situation only allowed her a brief respite.
Grateful for the flexibility that dancing had instilled into her, Esther squeezed her abdominal muscles, pulling her torso up until she was nearly bent in half, grabbing her leg to help pull her up. She clenched her teeth against the fresh wave of pain in her leg as the rope constricted again, and grabbed one of the stanchion lattices to try and pull herself up.
The lattice she’d grabbed was worn and only loosely attached to the stanchion, however, and wasn’t going to hold her for long. She tried reaching over to grab a different one, but the lattice broke away before she could grab onto another and she fell. The rope jerked her up short again and she cried out as horrendous pain lanced through her leg yet again. Fresh tears stung her eyes. She was exhausted and despair started to settle in. She didn't know if she still had the strength to pull herself up.
She was tired of dangling from things and she half laughed as that thought surfaced in her mind. She'd dangled from the roof to get into the town hall, she'd dangled at the farmhouse before she’d been captured, and she was dangling again. That thought frustrated her immensely. She took that frustration and used its energy to once again bend in half, her abdominal muscles pulling her torso up with sheer strength of will until she could grab her calves and reach for another lattice fastened to the bottom of the stanchion. This time it held, and, using every ounce of strength left in her, she pulled her body up until she was able to grab another lattice, this time on the side of the stanchion. Pull, reach up, pull, reach up. Slowly, she pulled herself up and over the edge, collapsing on top of the stanchion, her breath coming in ragged gasps.
She lay there breathlessly for a while, her leg throbbing. The night air was starting to get a little cool, but she hardly noticed. She started to cry quietly, releasing her pent up emotions, still not quite believing what had just happened. Eventually, the crying ceased as the adrenaline bled away, but tears continued to fall down her dirt stained cheeks. At first, she cried because of the innocent world that had been snatched from her; however, never being someone who could just wallow in self-pity, her tears soon changed to ones of sorrow for the people that had been killed—and whom she’d killed. She cried for the little children most of all.
Finally, a creaking sound broke her train of thought and the oar-shaft running through the middle of the stanchion began to turn. The large propeller started to rotate—slowly at first, and then more quickly. They were underway. She heard men's voices calling loudly to each other from the top of the deck above her. She lifted herself up on her hands and knees and crawled slowly back along the stanchion to where the ladder rungs led up onto the deck of the ship. She wrapped the safety line around her waist, tying it off, then curled up into a ball, her back pushed up against the nook where the stanchion met the side of the ship, and fell into a fatigue induced sleep.
CHAPTER 7
Mechanic
Even though I am a captive, being onboard an airship for the first time in my life is exciting. I mean, it’s been very difficult and extremely stressful, but the wonder of being up in the sky with the birds and clouds is exhilarating as well. Besides, older people say young folks are resilient. Maybe that’s what has helped me to see the beauty regardless of the circumstances.
Esther woke and shivered. Her arms were as cold as ice. She sat up, placing her back against the side of the ship and rubbed her arms against the chill morning air, trying to put life back into them. Her leg ached where the rope had been wrapped around it when she fell. She pulled up the leg of her trousers to survey the damage. Her shin and calf were black and blue and scabs were forming over places where the skin had been torn when the rope had constricted around it. She winced when her pant leg rubbed against the wounds as she pulled it back down. She looked around. Dawn’s gray morning light illuminated her surroundings. The light fog didn’t limit visibility much and Esther could see the ocean some distance below.
She stood up with a sigh, wincing again as her clothes brushed against her wounds. She climbed wearily up the rungs on the side of the ship and over the railing onto the main deck. Men were milling about, attending to various tasks. No one so much as glanced at her. She looked aft towards the quarterdeck and saw the captain there, standing behind the helmsman, talking with one of his men. The prisoners were gone. Esther assumed they’d probably been transferred to the larger transport ships.
Well, she thought, I might as well go and see if he’s going to kill me now. It amazed her that she could think of that possibility without the now familiar shiver of panic swelling up within her. Either exhaustion, or possibly simply resignation drove her to take the initiative and find out what her fate would be. She made her way aft, limping slightly, and climbed the short staircase up onto the quarterdeck. She walked up to the Captain and she began to feel anxious fear and dread bubbling just underneath the calm in her stomach. Perhaps she wasn’t as desensitized to it after all. She halted several feet away next to the railing where a small weather balloon was tethered. She was still within the captain’s line of sight, but at a spot where she could stand unobtrusively. The Captain finished talking to the man and turned to her. He stood there staring at her for a moment, and then finally, in his gravelly voice, he said, “You have cost me a man.”
She looked down and stared at the empty space between the Captain’s boots. “That man cost himself his own life,” she replied.
Sudden pain exploded in her cheek as the captain backhanded her and she fell back against the deck. “You will learn that your station does not give you the right to argue with your Captain!” he said, stepping forward and standing over her.
“Yes, sir. I’m sorry sir. I was just trying to explain—”
He backhanded her again and she fell back. “You’re still arguing. Do it again and I’ll cut out your tongue!”
Esther sat up and scrambled onto her knees. “Yes, sir. I’m sorry sir.”
The captain stood there a moment. “I lost my mechanic to disease a month ago. Suraj was a lousy replacement, but he was all that I had—and now I don’t even have him.” The Captain paused. Esther kept her head down and focused her eyes on the deck beneath her. “Suraj’s brother was killed back at the farm where you were found,” he conti
nued, “I don’t suppose you know how that happened?” Esther remained silent, taken aback by his sudden change of topic. Her mind raced to change tack with the sudden shift. So that was why Suraj had tried to kill me.
She heard him sigh. “Did you get a good enough look at the propeller housing before Suraj tried to kill you?”
Esther looked up, surprised. He must have watched the whole incident.
“Do you know what is wrong with it or are you only good at killing people? Maybe you should have been born Madrausan,” he said, laughing at his own joke.
His insult hurt Esther, awakening afresh the guilt she felt over killing Suraj and his brother, but she swallowed it down, realizing that it was exactly what he was trying to do. “Yes,” she replied, “I don’t know all of the mechanical terms, but the cogs on the main wheel gear are worn down. It isn’t transferring the power to the propeller like it should and probably slips a lot. Those cogs need to be replaced.”
“And do you think you can replace them?”
“Yes, I believe so.” She tried to sound sure of herself, even though she wasn’t at all confident that she could do what he was asking.
The captain was silent and Esther was tempted to look up at him, but resisted. After a moment, he continued. “You serve a purpose, therefore you may live. If you cease to serve a purpose, then you will cease to live.” A surge of relief wash over her as he said those words. It gave her the courage to look up at him again. He nodded at a crewman standing next to him. “Mukesh will show you where the supplies are. Now get out of my face before I change my—”
Esther's Innocence Page 6