Driftmetal Page 7

  Another moment of silence. “I can’t… move my fingers. It feels stiff when I… try to tell my hands what to do.”

  “Just a little hiccup in the fine motor skills, pal. Keep trying. You took a hard hit to the dome, but your brain knows what to do. Concentrate.”

  The needle on the pressure gauge fell into the red. I pushed the engines past half speed and up to full. The altimeter stopped rising, started falling. So did we. My stomach leapt into my throat, a rush of fear and adrenaline. We were sinking, a slow and continuous descent. All the upward thrust The Secant’s Clarity could muster couldn’t prevent us from falling anymore. Dangit Leridote, if we have to land on that Skytemple of yours, I’m gonna be pissed…

  Vilaris came leaping down the steps, hoisting himself by the handrails. “We got the fire going. The air’s warming up, but it’s not hot enough yet.”

  “How much longer?” I asked.

  “Another minute or two.”

  I bounced my knees, drummed on the armrests with my fingers; reached for the valves, took my hands away. “Untie Chaz,” I said after a moment. “He’s doing better. I think he understands it when you talk to him now.”

  Vilaris obeyed. “Chester? Do you know who I am?”

  Chaz cleared his throat, gulped. “Yes… I can remember. I know you.”

  “What do you think?” I interrupted, feeling the ballast pipes for warmth. “Now?”

  “I don’t know. Try it,” said Vilaris.

  “I can’t try it. If I fill the ballonets before there’s hot air in the pipes, they’ll fill with cold air instead and we’ll drop even faster. Here, take the helm for a minute. I’m gonna go check.”

  I leapt over the controls and darted up the steps, taking them two at a time. On the deck, the clouds were rushing by, heading upward too fast now for comfort. I descended into the aft cabin, where Blaylocke sat tending the fire. His face had a dour look, black smudges and fingerprints across his eyes and nose.

  “How’s it looking?” I asked, crouching to get a look at the furnace myself.

  “Fine.” He was listless, his face a mask of sorrow.

  I felt the exhaust pipe and the lines that snaked across the ceiling toward the command capsule. Both were hot to the touch. “We’re going to be alright. Just keep that fire going, and keep it as hot as you can.”

  Blaylocke nodded, staring into the flames as though he hadn’t heard me.

  “What’s the deal with Blaylocke?” I asked Vilaris when I’d returned to the controls. I was already cranking the valves to start the ballonets filling.

  Vilaris gave me a knowing glance. “Is he still looking miserable back there? We couldn’t find kindling to start the fire with, so Gareth had to use parchment paper… including a letter he’d written to his wife. When we started falling, he got pretty upset. He was like, ‘We won’t survive this time. This is it. It’s the end.’”

  “How was he planning to mail letters to a hidden city that nobody knows about?”

  “He was going to write to her every day, like a journal of sorts, and give her the letters when we got back.”

  I shut my mouth. I didn’t know what it was like having a family you wanted to get back to. Not anymore. I’d only been away from my parents for a few weeks, but I could say without reservation that they’d been the best few weeks of my life—torture and other hardships aside. Being on your own was the absolute nuts, as far as I was concerned. I didn’t need anyone, I told myself, unless they had the potential to be of use to me. Blaylocke was weak, and that gave me another reason not to like him.

  Soon we stopped sinking and leveled out. After a minute, the ballonets filled up with the warm smoky air from our impromptu fire, and we began to rise again. I rotated the engines to push us forward, knowing I’d have to use engine thrust alone to control our altitude now. We collided with a thick head of clouds and found ourselves engulfed in a pocket of obscuring mist. I sent The Secant’s Clarity rising faster, wanting to escape the feeling of sightlessness before anything else went wrong.

  When we cleared the tops of the clouds, they became a carpet below our feet. The airship seemed nothing more than an insect, soaring over the soft white blooms of a cotton field. Grand, stately floaters drifted on skyward currents, massive islands replete with sprawling towns and palatial cities that dotted the blue as far as we could see. Against all odds, we’d reached the stream.

  I felt a heavy hand on my shoulder. It was Chaz, standing behind me, unsteady on his feet. Vilaris was supporting him on the other side. There were tears in his eyes. “I never imagined it could look like this.”

  “Yeah, it’s pretty great, isn’t it,” I said.

  “It’s a whole ‘nother world.”

  “Looks can be deceiving,” I said. “Especially for you guys.”

  Vilaris was in a similar state, his eyes wide and shining with the reflection of the sky. “So… what do we do now?”

  “We pick one.”

  We let Chaz pick. He chose the closest, easiest landing spot, a massive floater I recognized as Mallentis, home to the twin cities Hibantya and Eulaya. Each city sat high up on its own plateau, the two joined together by a series of colossal steel bridges that spanned the canyon running between them. We got bluewave clearance from the crow’s nest and touched down in the wide valley that ran out from the canyon like a river delta, a grassy field strewn with airships.

  Travelers too poor to afford accommodations in the cities were camped out at their ships, chatting and carrying on like the attendees of some big peace festival for land-huggers. Multi-bagged helium dirigibles sat beside sleek hoverships and small, lightbulb-shaped hot air balloons with brightly-colored skins. There were sleek streamboats of every size, copters and prop planes, and even a few gliders. The Secant’s Clarity looked like a greasy rag in a sea of silk robes, its hull sundered, its plain envelope sagging over the two ballonets within.

  “Someone should stay with the ship,” I suggested, after we’d secured the mooring lines and located the hole where the crossbow quarrel had pierced the skin of the balloon.

  “I’ll go with you,” said Vilaris. “Gareth and Chester should stay here and get some rest. Stay on the bluewave, Gareth. And be sure to listen in on Muller’s sub-signal, too.”

  Neither of the men objected, so Vilaris and I made our way toward the canyon as the afternoon shadows lengthened on the cliffs. A set of elevators ran up each side, bullets of gleaming brass rocketing hundreds of feet through open shafts lined with pulsing blue lights. The elevators on the left took passengers to Hibantya; the ones on the right, to Eulaya.

  “Which way?” asked Vilaris.

  “Depends. You want to buy a streamboat or rent one?”

  “What’s the difference, price-wise?”

  “That’s like asking how much food costs. How much of it do you want? What kind? Do you want to wash your own dishes? There’s no simple answer unless you can be more specific.”

  “We charter a fifty-foot ship, complete with captain and crew. Or we buy that same ship and hire each crewmember separately. How much of a difference are we talking?”

  “Okay… roughly? About a year’s salary. Now, if it takes us longer than a week or two to find Gilfoyle, your rental costs go up. And this is all assuming we don’t let slip that you three are… who you are. It costs extra to keep mouths quiet, you know.”

  “Right. So you know some people? Some sailors, I mean? What do you recommend?”

  “I say we go both ways. That sounds bad—let me explain. Eulaya is where the rich folks live. The smaller of the two cities, the less crowded, and the more exclusive. Anybody who owns a streamboat worth buying will be there. Once we have our boat, we cross over to Hibantya and round up a crew of the most despicable, cutthroat sailors we can find. And we put an ear to the ground for information about Gilfoyle’s whereabouts while we’re at it.”

  We veered to the right at the edge of the airfield, where a handful of gypsies was dancing around a raging pit fire, whi
le a dozen more sat in the shadows of their airships looking on.

  Vilaris gave the gypsies a wide berth. “I hope you don’t plan on hiring anyone too despicable. No… pirates, or anything.”

  I scoffed. “Pirates. What is a pirate, really? You’ve never stolen anything in your life? You might be a pirate, for all I know.”

  “If having stolen something were the only criterion, most people would be pirates. You, especially.”

  “I beg your pardon,” I said. “I prefer to think of myself as a commodities appropriation and merchandising specialist.”

  “Isn’t that the same thing?”

  I shook my head. “Pirates steal for glory and adventure. I steal for no reason at all, and regardless of whether it’s necessary.”

  Vilaris rolled his eyes.

  We approached the elevators that would take us up to Eulaya. A squad of green-clad customs officers stood by, processing the tourists, merchants, and cargo shipments that were coming and going. The narrow canyon was filled with them; crowds of people and their wagons and carts carrying all manner of trade goods and supplies. We waited in what passed for a line while the sun began to throw rays of pink and orange across the clouds. Soon one of the officers, a tall thin man in a stiff green suit, stepped toward us with a clipboard and pen in his hands.

  “Welcome to Mallentis, gentlemen,” said the man. “Are you citizens or visitors?”

  “We’re all citizens of the world, aren’t we, my good man,” I said. “Say, how tall are these cliffs, here?”

  “On this side, close to three-hundred feet. On the Hibantya side, a little over two-hundred. Now—”

  “The easier for the haves to look down on the have-nots, eh? Which side do you live on? You’re a Hibantyan, I’ll bet.”

  “That’s right. Now, sir, I need—”

  “I knew it. A man of the people. I figured on that the second I saw you. What’s your name, old chap?”

  “Andrew Partridge,” was all I gave the officer time to say.

  “Andrew… Hal Nordstrom.” I took Andrew’s clipboard and shook the hand that had been holding it. “Pleased to meet you. Heavens bless men like you, who work so hard to keep this place organized and on the level for the upstanding businessmen of the world. Thank you so very much for your service. Say, we’re in need of a little help. Would you be so kind?”

  “Certainly, but first—”

  I handed him the clipboard without stopping to take a breath. “We’ll be wanting a quick bite and some rousing conversation. Do you know a place that can offer us both? Cost is no object. My friend here is a moneyed man.” I prodded Vilaris with an elbow. “Not a working stiff like you and me. Truth be told, I can’t stand the fellow. Wretched man. Wouldn’t know a hard day’s work if it slapped him in the face. Look at him. Can’t you see it in the way he carries himself? He puts on airs, what with the shaggy beard and unwashed appearance. And yet, do you see how new these clothes are? Exactly the way a wealthy man would disguise himself. Any suggestions for a lively place where this deplorable creature and I might dine this evening, Andrew, old friend?”

  “There’s the Crescent Restaurant, The Hart’s Antlers, and the Cliffline Resort. Those are where I’d go if money were no object. But sir, please—”

  “That’s very kind of you, Andrew. Now don’t misjudge me: I myself am guilty of having come into a little extra coin every now and then, but every chip of it is thanks to a generous helping of hard, honest work. If we weren’t only passing through for the night to pick up a few supplies for the voyage home, and you weren’t otherwise engaged, I’d offer to take you with us in thanks for your dedication to the safety of Mallentis. That’ll have to wait for next time, however. We’ll be sure to call on you when we’re in town again. You can show us the sights, and we’ll show you a good time. How does that sound?” I turned to Vilaris. “Be sure to give Andrew here a generous tip, will you, you wealthy son of a gun?”

  I began to move past Andrew toward the elevators. He had been scribbling on his clipboard as I talked.

  “Uh, sir… Hal. Mr. Nordstrom,” said Andrew, following me. “Where did you say home was?”

  I hesitated. “Bannock. Little island that keeps a low altitude, a distance downstream from here.”

  “Ah, yes. I know the place,” Andrew said, scribbling.

  “You’ve been there?” I said with excitement. “Oh, splendid. Quaint little drift-town, Bannock, isn’t it? Lovely all the time.” When I turned around, Vilaris was giving me his dirtiest look yet as he dug a hand into his pocket.

  “No, I’ve never been,” said Andrew. “I only know it by name. And what do you do for a living there in Bannock, Mr. Nordstrom?”

  “I’m in the business of moving things from one place to another, Andrew, my boy. I take them where they need to go, and the people who own them reward me for having done so. Tell you more about it next time, ‘ey ol’ buddy? Now, will you still be down here about three hours from now?”

  “My shift ends at eight o’clock,” said Andrew.

  “Very good,” I said. “We might even run into one another again before the day’s out.”

  “We may well,” said Andrew. “Now if you please, may I have this gentleman’s name and information as well?”

  “Lincoln Putch,” I said. “One of my investors. Terrible fellow, really. If I were you, I’d lock him up for no other reason than the dour looks he’ll give a man from time to time. See, there’s one of them now. Good thing these decisions aren’t up to me, I dare say. Best leave that to the professionals, eh? For you and your like, Andrew, there is no end to my admiration.”

  Vilaris handed Andrew a small fold of chips, which he accepted with a nod of thanks.

  “Now then,” I said. “Which elevator is ours?”

  Andrew smiled. “Right this way, Mr. Nordstrom.”

  When the doors slid shut and the ground began to pull away from us, a wave of relief washed over me. We made it into the city, I thought. Next comes the hard part. The blue lights flitted by as we shot upward, reflected in the elevator’s plate glass windows. Spots of yellow-orange flame smoldered in the valley below, torches and campfires underscored by the growing dusk. The airships that had been so large when we stood next to them became no larger than toys; the people, no larger than bugs. Vilaris and I were alone in a box of glass and metal large enough for twenty people.

  “What was that all about?” he asked.

  “I was just being honest. You are a wealthy son of a gun.”

  “No, I mean all that nonsense about why we’re here.”

  “Did you want him asking detailed questions about what we’re really doing?”

  “What does it matter? We’re finding a streamboat and a crew. That’s not illegal.”

  “Okay, so three primies from a secret city are here to find a ship and fill it with sailors, steal back the gravstone their former business associate walked away with, sign trade contracts with a dozen new buyers—trade contracts for the most valuable element in the world, mind you—and return home without leaving behind a trace of their existence. Is that what you wanted me to say?”

  “I didn’t say that. But you didn’t have to embellish your story so much.”

  “Let me tell you something, Clint. Those customs officers aren’t just there to make sure everyone’s following the rules. They’re there for a piece of any good action they manage to uncover. You think they don’t take bribes? Think they don’t report suspicious activity at the drop of a hat? It doesn’t matter if we’re breaking zero laws or a hundred of them; they can throw you in the hothouse because they don’t like the way you smell.”

  Vilaris tossed up a hand, defeated. “Alright. What do I know? It was a little over the top, that’s all I’m saying. But I guess it worked.”

  The elevator halted a few stories from the top of the cliffs, and the operators cranked the doors open. Instead of the city, we stepped out into a damp gray cave with harsh white bulbs flickering along the ceiling. Four cu
stoms officers in dark green uniforms were standing on the other side of the doors as if they’d been waiting for us, solemn and stern-faced, golden badges glinting in the cold light.

  “Just this way, please,” said the first of them, a broad-shouldered man with a shock of blond hair showing beneath his crisp green cover.

  Vilaris and I followed. The other officers didn’t move until after we’d passed them. I noted their sidearms, black snub-nosed revolvers, probably loaded with pulser rounds. The floor of the cave was smooth and flat, the walls rough and curvaceous. They led us down the arched hallway and we turned right into a side corridor. When two more officers appeared outside the doorway of the small windowless room ahead of us, I knew something was wrong. I’d guessed it as soon as we left the elevator, but now I knew. I kept up the act nonetheless.

  “Eh, excuse me, officer. We’re meant to be headed into the city. Where are you taking us, exactly?”

  Heedless of my words, the officer swept an arm toward the doorway. “Just through here, gentlemen.”

  I stopped in my tracks. “Excuse me, I said. I demand to be told where you’re taking us.”

  I heard hands brush against holsters behind me.

  “Mulroney Jakes, we’re placing you under arrest. You’re to remain here until the authorities arrive.”

  Andrew Partridge, you sly rascal. Sold us down the river without a hint of betrayal in your eyes, and I didn’t even catch on. Heavens forbid I ever come back to town to find you… “That won’t be necessary,” I said. “I’m turning myself in.”

  6

  I stuck my hands in the air and turned to face Vilaris. “Elevator. Run.”

  Vilaris was confused. “Huh?”

  I didn’t have time to spell it out for him. I shoved him aside and put a dart into each of the three officers’ chests before they’d unsnapped their holster straps. Without turning around, I pulled my flecker pistol from inside my jacket and shot the blond-haired officer in his big meaty head. “Run. Dangit Vilaris, run!”

  The two officers in the doorway had drawn and started firing before Vilaris and I were halfway down the side corridor. I watched the pulser rounds explode around Vilaris and make the hair stand up on the back of his neck, but he managed to avoid taking any direct hits. Not that pulser rounds would’ve had much effect on primie flesh.