When Mudro left, and Jacob prepared to lock the door, he found Whistler outside, with bright eyes to match Jacob's dark and heavy ones.
“I overheard,” he said.
“You mean you eavesdropped.”
Whistler cocked his head. “I didn't have the proper apparatus.”
“Pity,” Jacob said. “I could have done with a drink. So, what did you hear?”
“Pretty much everything.”
“Well, I won't lie. I'm having a difficult time right now.”
“Maybe I can help.”
“You can go,” Jacob said. “This is probably not going to be a pretty sight.”
“No,” Whistler said. “I'm going to stay. If it were me, I think I'd want the company. I think … maybe it's easier if you've got a friend.”
Jacob smiled as much as the drug would allow. He tried to hold back a tear. Though the drug made him feel like he needed something else, like he needed only it, Whistler's presence made him feel like he only needed someone else to be there, anyone to stop him feeling alone.
“Consider it a birthday gift,” Whistler said.
That night was full of evils, where Jacob tossed and turned, and saw phantom figures from his past, and heard spectral voices from his memories. His mind raced, and his body ached. Sweat poured from him like a waterfall, as if the very moisture could no longer stand the husk of his body. Almost every hour he had to get up to vomit, and between each of these heavings he shouted all manner of things to the four walls of the room. Whistler sat with him throughout all of this, even when Jacob urged him to leave, and at times Jacob was ashamed that the boy witnessed this weakness of his, and at other times he was glad that he was there.
He thought of all the junkies in Blackout, and all the Hope-crazed maniacs that wandered from town to town, and he no longer felt above them, looking down. He thought of Cala and all her different highs, and all her efforts to seek the next one. He remembered her looking into the eyeboxes, and offering him the “sight,” and he remembered that he refused. Now he realised that maybe instead of chasing highs, she was running from the lows. She had reached the bottom of the ocean, but she had struck the bottom of life long before that. Jacob hoped he would not one day join her there.
7 – SPENDTHRIFT
When Jacob awoke the next morning, he found that Whistler was still there, dozing awkwardly on a chair. It was well into the afternoon, and well past Jacob's normal rising hour, but getting the last of the Hope out of him, without the counteracting benefit of Greenshield, had sapped so much of his energy, and had kept him—the both of them even—up all night.
Jacob crawled out of bed, keeping one of the damp cloths to his forehead, which pounded relentlessly. He emptied another bucket and tried to tidy up the room, without waking Whistler. He could not imagine Mudro would want to sleep there again.
He left Whistler snoring gently, and wandered about below deck. There were only two levels down there, one floor for the crew, and the other for the vehicles. It was lucky that the vessel sailed the skies mostly in cruising mode, or it might have felt even more claustrophobic than the Lifemaker.
During his roaming, Jacob encountered Soasa, who was spooning gunpowder into metal balls, and piling them up in a precarious pyramid. It seemed she was not in the least bit frightened that they might tumble and explode. Jacob stood as far away from them as possible.
“Hey Soasa,” he said. “Funny bumping into you here.”
Soasa scoffed. “It's not like there's much place to go. This place is so cramped.”
“Cosy,” Jacob said with a smile.
She glanced at him. “Sheesh, you look terrible.”
“Rough night.”
“Rougher than normal, you mean.”
“Yeah.”
“Well,” she said, “what do you want?”
“A favour.”
“You should try someone else.”
“I don't exactly have many friends on this thing.”
“Well, I don't have many either.”
“I heard you're pals with the pilot.”
“Cantro? We're friends since we were kids. Rommond recruited him to the Resistance early on. When Taberah made a bid for the leadership, I offered him a place in the Order.”
“And he said no?”
“Well, he's flying this ship, isn't he?”
“I guess Rommond rewards loyalty.”
Soasa cocked her head. “Dynamite is loyal to the one who lights the fuse.”
“Well, in this situation, Cantro's my dynamite, and you're my fuse.”
“I'm not interested,” Soasa said as she turned back to the bombs she was preparing.
“Hear me out, Soasa, please.”
Soasa sighed and placed down the gunpowder. “Hurry then.”
“I need you to convince Cantro to let Whistler fly this thing, even just for a few minutes.”
“Are you mad? He wouldn't allow it.”
“For you he might.”
“He didn't get to be pilot by trusting airships to the hands of children.”
“He can watch him, step in if things get out of hand. The kid just needs to feel like he's in control, that he can fly this thing.”
Soasa shook her head. “It's not gonna happen.”
“Come on, Soasa,” Jacob pleaded. “It's not for me.”
Soasa scoffed. “Even good deeds we do for others, we do for ourselves.”
“I'm not that cynical.”
“You should be. This world doesn't teach anything else.”
“We do.”
“Why do you care about him?” Soasa asked.
“I don't know. Why don't you care about him?”
“I care. Just … well, I guess I'm just not the mothery type.”
“You don't have to be. Just be the type that does a favour for a friend.”
“Friends, are we?” she replied.
Jacob smiled, and Soasa sighed.
“I'll help you,” she said, “for a price.”
“You know that I lost my fortune, right?”
“All of it?” she asked, as if she knew he could not be that bad a gambler.
“The crate was on the Lifemaker when it went down.”
Soasa's eyes widened. “And you didn't try to save it?”
“I was … preoccupied.”
“With what? It must have been quite something for you to give up that much money.”
“It was. You could say I was a bit absent-minded.”
“So you're penniless now?”
“It's been a long time since we used pennies, Soasa. But yeah. Well, almost. I have five coils left. They were in my pocket when we fled the Lifemaker.”
“Okay then,” Soasa said. “I'll do it for five.”
Jacob sighed, and took out the coils. A little family of coils. “This is all I have left.”
“It's less than I should be charging.”
“I'll have nothing then.”
“You'll have a new-found cynicism.”
Jacob humphed. He held the coils up, rolled one between his fingers, and flicked another into the air. The clink was still reassuring, but the sound seemed dull. Even the colour appeared sapped of its vibrancy. It was as if for the first time, he could really see that these were made of iron, not gold.
He handed the remnants of his fortune over to Soasa. “I guess I'm really penniless now.”
“Thank Rommond he doesn't charge you rent.”
“Why do you want the coils anyway?” Jacob asked. “Doesn't the Resistance provide everything you need?”
“What, like explosives?”
“That … and food.”
“Yeah, I get my rations like all the rest.”
“So what do you need the coils for?”
Soasa looked away, and it seemed that she was thinking of far-off places. “I'm not entirely sure this war is for me.”
“I don't think it's for anyone.”
“Yeah, but … I wasn't really in it for 'the cau
se.'”
“Kindred spirits,” Jacob said. “What were you here for?”
Soasa rubbed her hands through her short hair, dotting it with gunpowder. “The people.”
“All of them?” Jacob asked. “Or someone in particular?”
“Certainly not you, that's for sure.”
“What? Am I not your type?”
Soasa smiled. “Not exactly.”
“So is this your retirement fund?”
Soasa cast her gaze towards the east, where the Iron Empire's grip was as strong as ever. “I don't really think we're going to win this thing.”
“We mightn't if we lose our Dynamite Lady.”
Soasa humphed. “I think you'll manage just fine.”
“From you that almost sounds like a compliment.”
“Manage, not win. I think the deck is stacked against us.”
“I've won before on a bad hand.”
“By bluffing?”
“A bit of that, and a bit of daring. Sometimes all the players get a bad hand. You just have to be determined enough to see the game through.”
“Well, I don't share your optimism. For me, I just …” but she paused and sighed again. She cast her gaze to the west, where the Iron Empire's grip was weakest, and yet still could be felt. “I want to get away, settle down somewhere.”
“Somehow I can't imagine that life for you.”
“I can,” she said wistfully. “I've imagined it for a long time.”
“And what would you do?”
“I want a house, a garden, a little patch of land to call my own. Somewhere I can grow things.”
“I'm not sure you can grow dynamite.”
Soasa chortled. “There's more to me than dynamite, you know.”
“So it seems. You just never struck me as the settled type.”
“Well, what I dream, and what I do in reality, they're quite far apart.”
“So where would you go? There's not exactly lots of grassland left in Altadas.”
“Probably somewhere up near Copperfort, or further north.”
“So you'd just sit around all day growing vegetables?”
“Something like that.”
“Well, I find it hard to visualise,” Jacob said, and he squinted his eyes, as if that might make it easier. “I'm trying to imagine what kind of life that would be for Taberah. If we win this war, what will she end up doing? I can't quite see her tending the hearth.”
Soasa looked away. “No,” she said bitterly. “No, I can't either.”
“So, would you live alone?”
“Probably.”
“No family?”
She rolled her eyes at him. “It's not exactly like that's possible for me. I'm not a Pure.”
“You could still have a couple of little demon rascals running around the place.”
Soasa was clearly less amused than Jacob was by this.
“But if you could,” Jacob continued, “would you have a family?”
Soasa sighed. “I guess I'd like that.”
“So maybe you're more the mothery type than you think.”
“Maybe,” Soasa said. She held up the five coils Jacob had given her. “I'll look after these, at least. And I make no promises about Cantro. If he agrees, he agrees. Otherwise, no refunds.”
Jacob nodded. He thought that if she got Cantro to agree, the look on Whistler's face would be all the payment he would need.
8 – KING OF THE CLOUDS
“Where are we going?” Whistler asked.
“It's a surprise.”
“I'm not sure I like surprises.”
“You'll like this one.”
Jacob nudged the boy forward, and held his hands over his eyes. They waddled across the top deck, and some of the crew giggled as they passed.
“Are they laughing at us?” Whistler asked.
“I think they're laughing at me.”
“You're not, like, going to throw me off the ship, are you?”
Jacob chuckled. “No, of course not.”
“Well, that would be a surprise.”
“Yeah, I suppose it would. But trust me, kid, you'll like this one. Now, we're coming to some steps. Step up. And again. And once more.”
They reached the top of the pilot's platform, where Cantro, a broad figure with a grim face and a huge, angular jaw, stood. He steered the ship with a giant wheel and a series of levers, which connected with a matrix of cogs, pulleys, and pistons. Two large chimney stacks stood on either side of the wheel, one spewing smoke, the other spewing steam, though they spewed nothing at all when the vessel switched to crusader mode.
“I smell smoke,” Whistler said. “Is something burning?”
Jacob removed his hands from Whistler's eyes, and Whistler looked about. He had not been allowed this close to the platform before, let alone walk upon it. He smiled broadly.
“I get to meet the captain?” Whistler asked, looking to Jacob.
“You get to be the captain,” Jacob replied.
Whistler was visibly shocked. His smile faded, but not because he was not happy. He clearly did not know how to feel. His eyes welled up, and he bit his lip to stop it from quivering.
Jacob ushered him closer to the wheel, and it seemed that Cantro was making every effort to restrain himself at the sight of anyone else bar Rommond or Taberah touching the controls.
“Well, go on then,” Jacob said, and he placed Whistler's hands upon the wheel.
The boy stood there for a moment, staring at the wheel, not moving his hands, not turning it, in some ways using it for support. He looked at Jacob.
“I don't know what to do.”
Cantro stepped in to show him the ropes, and Jacob stepped back to let Whistler enjoy his tutorial. Whistler looked at him with a hidden joy awoken in his eyes. “Thank you,” he whispered.
“Consider it a late birthday gift,” Jacob replied with a smile.
He caught Whistler's cap when it blew off in a ferocious gust of wind. “Woah!” he said. “You'll need that ... captain.” He placed it back on Whistler's head.
And so Cantro guided Whistler's hands, tilting the wheel, pulling the levers, switching on the pistons. He showed him how to adjust the sail, how to fire up the engines, how to change speeds. From the most basic to the most complex, Cantro taught the boy how to fly the airship, and Whistler picked up everything with ease, much to the amazement of all onlookers.
In time Whistler felt confident enough with the controls, and Cantro felt confident enough to let him fly unaided, and so the boy became the pilot of the hour, guiding the Skyshaker through the clouds, following the coordinates that Rommond had laid out.
And as he flew, Whistler shouted to the sky. “Woo!” he cried, as if he had just grown his very own wings.
Jacob laughed and cheered. From the corner of his eye he saw Taberah standing at the bottom of the steps, her arms folded, and instead of a scowl on her face, there was a smile. Jacob looked at her, and she at him, and they both looked to Whistler, yelling gleefully to the wind, and they could not help but feel some of that same glee.
The Skyshaker glided through the clouds with as much ease as if Cantro himself was steering it. He might have stopped someone else much sooner, but Whistler was clearly a natural, and few could watch him fly the vessel and want to stop him.
The smile on the boy's face was like none he had ever given before. It was certainly the broadest since he found out that Domas was his father, and perhaps the happiest since he was born. He turned to Jacob with that smile, with that glint in his eyes, the wind in his hair, and the sun gleaming like a halo around him, like a glistening crown for a new king of the clouds.
9 – TARGET ACQUIRED
When everyone heard the latches on Rommond's door opening, the celebration ended, and the screeching bolts reminded them that the war was still raging, and that one of its greatest battles was ahead of them. Cantro took the wheel once more, and the crew returned swiftly to their duties.
“It's
time,” Rommond said. “I've drawn up our targets.”
Taberah glared at him. She had been left out of the meeting.
Rommond marched to the centre of the gondola, and his lieutenants hurriedly hauled several barrels and planks of wood over to assemble a makeshift table. He placed a large map down just as the last wooden panel was slotted into place.
“Here,” he said, stabbing the map with his index finger, “is our first port of call.”
“Is that an armoury?” Taberah asked.
“Yes, Tabs, and the largest one in Blackout. That needs to be burning before they even know we're there.”
“Have we got enough bombs?” Jacob asked.
Soasa seemed insulted. “More like, have we got enough targets?” she remarked.
“Oh, we have plenty of those,” Rommond said. He ran his finger across the map of the city, pointing out several areas marked with a red X in a circle. “These are all priority targets once the main armoury is taken out. Their barracks is on the eastern side of the city, but that could easily wait until last, as we won't be mounting a ground assault until we clear out all of their vehicles. All four gates are heavily guarded, but I've sent a message to some of our supporters in the city. Ebronah will pay off as many guards as possible, and the Guild of Brick and Mortar is poised to strike on the ground once we've established air superiority.”
“Air superiority is one thing,” Jacob said. “The Regime is thick on the streets.”
“We will have to make do with what we have.”
“What about allies? Is there no one we can call on?” Jacob asked.
“We have no allies,” Rommond grumbled.
“What about General Leadman in Copperfort?” Taberah suggested.
“He's no ally. He capitulated very early in the war. It's the only reason the Regime leaves Copperfort alone. Leadman is part of the Resistance only in name.”
“But people there quietly oppose the Iron Emperor,” Taberah said.
“Yes, quietly,” Rommond replied. “We've had enough of that over the years. It's time we got louder.”
Skyshaker: A Steampunk Dystopian Adventure (The Great Iron War, Book 3) Page 5