Driftmetal (15 page)

“If you’ll permit me to share a few of my ideas,” I
said.

Mr. Scofield nodded. So did Nerimund.

When I glanced in Sable’s direction, she was staring
at me, as if in a trance. She looked away, snapping out of it.

“You’re a talented crew,” I told them. “I’ve seen
how well you run this ship. So I want you to do what you do best:
fly the
Galeskimmer
, and fly her like there isn’t a more
noble pursuit in all the world. Mr. McMurtry, how many guns can she
bring to bear, and what kind?”

The quartermaster removed his black top-hat and
scratched his head. “The guns’ve been packed away for quite some
time now. We don’t like to present a threat most times, since we
haven’t much to support one. I think of the ones we haven’t sold,
there’s an old cannon or two down there. Four-pounders, I believe,
plus a barrel of powder and a dozen rounds.”

“So no fleckers, lasers… nothing like that,” I said,
ready to be disappointed.

Dennel shook his head.

“Okay. How many of you are trained to use them?”

“Just me and Cap’ Sable,” said Dennel. “Thorley here
knows how, but… his depth perception ain’t the best, you know.”

I smiled. “Captain Sable?”

Her eyes were cold blue spheres, but she spoke with
courtesy. “I’ll help man the guns, if it comes to that.”

“In the meantime, they’d better be brought above and
set up. I don’t think we’ll need them, but it couldn’t hurt. Eliza,
did you pick up everything you needed in town today?”

“Aye,” she said, her green eyes smiling.

“Good, good. There’s a warehouse on Platform 14
where they keep all the unprocessed ore. It’s where I found the
gravstone last time. My mistake was not realizing that every
hovertruck in the place is bugged. The mine operators want to know
which vehicles are being used where, and by stealing the hovertruck
itself I unwittingly led them right to me.

“From the warehouse, the ore is taken to Platform 22
to be processed. The layout of the processing plant is pretty
complicated, but there’s only one section they use to extract
gravstone. Whatever gravstone Gilfoyle possesses has to be in one
of those two places—Platform 14, or Platform 22—I just don’t know
which. That means that if my primary plan doesn’t work out, we’re
going to have to strike both at the same time.”

A murmur arose among the crew, uneasy words.

“You’re wondering how we’re gonna pull that off with
eleven people and a ship to fly. Easier done than said, I assure
you. Alastair Gilfoyle owes the city of Bannock a great deal of
money.” I made sure I said ‘
Bannock
’ instead of
‘
Pyras
’ this time. “He broke his contract and failed to pay
us for services rendered. So before we bother with any of this
gravstone heist nonsense, we’re going to do what grown men are
supposed to do when there’s a disagreement. Talk to him,
face-to-face.”

“Didn’t he try to kill you last time?” asked Mr.
Scofield.

“Gilfoyle gave the order and his thugs carried it
out,” I said, nodding. “But if we can get to him when he’s not
surrounded by his goons, I don’t think he’ll be in a position to
carry out violence.”

“Alright, enough,” said Sable. “This talk of killing
is making me anxious. I hope Gilfoyle agrees to uphold his half of
the contract and pay what he owes. There doesn’t need to be any
more killing going on.”

You’re in the wrong profession if you’re afraid
of killing
, I almost said. “I hope he does, too. But in case he
doesn’t, here’s my idea for a backup plan.”

It took two hours for me to explain my idea to the
crew and discuss every minor point they were concerned about. We
made alterations where necessary, shifting our little skeleton crew
around to accommodate the various tasks, and working out a few
timing and logistical issues I’d overlooked. I was convinced we
were ready, but we’d plotted late into the night and everyone was
tired, so we decided to get some rest and execute the scheme the
following day.

I didn’t sleep much that night, and I got the
feeling no one else did either. The rain had stopped by the time we
woke, but the sky was gray that morning, and the fog still lay
thick in the fields around the
Galeskimmer
. I tried not to
think about whether all of us would live to see the end of that
day. I didn’t want it to matter.

“How you feelin’, Chaz?” I asked him over
breakfast.

“Ready,” he said, biting off half a strip of
bacon.

“I’m gonna be counting on you today. Hard.”

“I’ve got everything you asked for. It’s all set to
go.” Chaz’s straight black hair had grown out since we’d left
Pyras. Now that his head wound had healed and he no longer wore the
bandages, he’d taken to sweeping the drape out of his eyes and
tying it behind his head, the way Vilaris often did. Chaz would’ve
looked a right sailor if it weren’t for those goggles and the
gadgets he was always tinkering around with.

I cuffed him on the shoulder and stood to leave.
“You’re a better man and a better primie than I ever expected to
meet,” I told him, and meant it.

While I was helping Dennel McMurtry carry one of the
four-pounders up the stairs to the deck, Blaylocke passed us, going
down. I was pleasantly surprised when he grabbed the middle of the
cannon and helped us lug it the rest of the way. The thing was
deceptively heavy for its size.

“Thanks,” I said, dusting off my hands. “So… have
you decided yet?”

He nodded. “I’m coming to Gilfoyle’s.”

Blaylocke had been unsure whether his skills would
be better served on board the
Galeskimmer
in the event that
we needed to raid the platforms, or if he should do the brave thing
and come with us to confront Gilfoyle. Rather than fighting him
over it, I’d left it up to him. Giving Blaylocke a hard time had
lost some of its luster. I’d seen the man get more homesick and
despondent with each passing day. Instead of the retorts and angry
challenges he used to give me, he’d started to ignore me or walk
away whenever I tried to start a verbal sparring match with him. It
made me feel like a real prick. But I
am
a real prick, so I
figure it kept me grounded.

“
Ding-ding-ding
,” I sang. “Correct
answer.”

“How sure are you that Gilfoyle’s going to fold? You
think he’ll just hand over the chips he owes us?”

“Absolutely not. I think he’s gonna be the same old
cigar-smoking, medallion-wearing, walking-cane-up-his-butt,
ore-smelting donkey. He’ll be just as hard to deal with as ever.
The only difference is that he won’t have his muscle around to give
orders to.”

“Why are we even trying then? Let’s just go straight
to Plan B.”

I threw up my hands and let them slap my thighs.
“There’s only so much of this defeatist attitude of yours I can
take, Blaylocke. We’re trying it this way because…
why not
?
And also because, what good are death and destruction if you’re not
having fun?”

Blaylocke frowned and started to walk away.

“Hey,” I said, halting him. “Nobody on this boat is
dumb enough not to notice you feeling sorry for yourself all the
time. Except maybe Nerimund. I actually don’t know if that guy’s
dumb or if he just likes repeating what everyone says. Anyway,
you’re crushing the mood around here. We’re supposed to be getting
riled up for tonight. The people who crew this ship are a bunch of
glorified mailmen; this is the most dangerous thing most of them
have probably ever done. But you? You’re a City Watchman. You ride
hoverbikes across the Churn like it’s an ice skating rink, for
crying out loud. Take some pride in yourself. You miss your family?
Great. When you get home, tell them the stories about how you
fought to do right by them, for the good of Pyras—not stories about
how you moped around the ship and cried the whole time. We’re doing
this for them. Well… you are, at least. I’m in it for the
chips.”

There was the hint of a twinkle in Blaylocke’s eye,
as if a fond memory had swept over him. He started to walk away
again. When he was halfway across the deck, he called back over his
shoulder. “Let’s not screw this up, blueblood.”

I could hear the smile on his face when he said
it.

I stood for a moment and looked out across the
fields, laden with their thick blanket of fog. Rays of daylight had
begun to pierce through. I hoped the sun would burn away the rest
and give us clear skies before nightfall.

“Mr. Jakes, if you’ll accompany me for a
moment…”

I hadn’t noticed Landon Scofield approaching, but he
was there, standing behind me with a blank look on his face.
Nerimund stood behind him, peering out around his arm like a
child.

“What is it?”

“Ms. Brunswick would like a word with you.”

“A word,” said Nerimund.

If I’d had to guess the word Sable wanted to say to
me, it wouldn’t have been one I enjoyed hearing. Still, I followed
Scofield obediently, keeping my distance from the little duender
trailing at his heels. Inside the captain’s quarters, Sable was
standing near her table full of maps and charts. Dennel McMurtry
was there too. He was sitting in one of the wooden armchairs, legs
pressed together beneath the table, picking at the brim of the
top-hat in his lap. His eyes had a cold, glazed look, and worry
lines crinkled his forehead.

Sable waited for the door to close. “So, Mr. Jakes.
Tell us about Pyras.”

I feigned innocence. “What’s Pyras?”

“Mr. McMurtry overheard you talking with Mr.
Blaylocke outside. You said you were doing this ‘
for the good of
Pyras
.’ What does that mean?”

“Just an expression,” I said. “It’s the name of the
company we want to start someday. Once we have the money.”

Sable tapped the map on the table with her finger.
“Show me where it is.”

I lifted an eyebrow. “Where our company is?”

“Where Bannock is. Show me where your home town is
on this map.”

I crossed the room and stood next to the table,
looking down. The winds of the stream were fickle and
ever-changing, so the positions and movements of inhabited floaters
could only be tracked if they were emitting a bluewave signal. Maps
had to be redrawn on a constant basis using the distances estimated
by the ship’s receivers. The map showed everything on our side of
the world, represented by a series of dots, with lines that showed
the various distances between them and their average speeds in the
stream. There were no altitude markers on most of them, and only a
few had names—the ones Mr. Scofield knew from memory or had seen
when we’d passed them.

I studied the map for a moment, trying to decide
which floater to point to. Everything in the stream had moved since
the last time I’d looked at a stream chart, floaters shifting and
passing one another in their never-ending cycle around Esperon. In
truth, I’d only been to Bannock that one time. So with my limited,
out-of-date aerographical knowledge, there were a dozen different
points on the map I thought could be Bannock. If we’d really lived
there, as I’d told them, it would’ve been easier to narrow it
down.

“That one,” I said, pointing.

Sable’s eyes followed my hand to the table. Her face
hardened. “You’re not from Bannock. None of you are.”

I might have held up the lie a little longer, but
there was no sense in it. The jig was up, and I knew it. “Here’s
the thing… I may have lied a little.” I sucked in a breath, bracing
myself.

Sable grimaced, deflated. She was too fed up with me
to be enraged. “First it was your name, then the primitives… and
now this. Where do the lies stop, Mulroney? Did Gilfoyle
really
steal something from your city—wherever that is—or
did he steal it from
you
? Did he even steal anything in the
first place? Or was this some elaborate ploy to get us to help you
burglarize an innocent man?”

“This is real,” I said. “It’s the truth. Everything
about Gilfoyle is exactly like we’ve told you it is. He had a
contract with Pyras. We don’t know whether he broke the contract
because crime drove him away, or because he’s plotting Pyras’s
downfall with one of the city’s leaders. All we know is that
Gilfoyle took their gravstone without paying for it, and now he
owes them a lot of money.”

Sable’s blue eyes searched mine, looking for a shred
of truth. “Before we go any further with this, I think it’s time
you told us about Pyras.”

“I can’t do that,” I said. I was thinking about the
day I’d threatened to tell everyone in the stream that Pyras
existed. Why did I care so much about Pyras’s secrecy now? I
should’ve been looking out for myself, taking every opportunity I
had to keep myself out of prison.

“I suggest you do, or the deal is off,” said
Sable.

“I suggest you do. Deal is off, deal is off,” said
Nerimund.

“It’s not my place,” I said. “My friends trusted me
to keep it a secret, and I won’t betray them. This may be my fault
for opening my big mouth, but I don’t have the right to explain
Pyras on their behalf. They should be the ones to do that.”

Sable was still scrutinizing my every word and
facial expression. “Those primitives are that important to you,”
she said, asking.

I didn’t know the answer to her question. I knew
what she wanted to hear, and I knew I didn’t want to piss off
anyone else until we were finished with Gilfoyle. “They’ve kept my
secret. Why shouldn’t I keep theirs?”

Sable nodded and sent Dennel McMurtry to summon the
primies. The three men knew something was wrong as soon as they
entered the room, just like I had. Sable was quiet, giving me the
opportunity to speak first.

“Fellas,” I said, “I’m sorry. Mr. McMurtry overheard
Blaylocke and me talking a few minutes ago. They know we’re not
from Bannock, and they want to know about Pyras. I haven’t told
them anything because I wanted it to be your choice whether they
know or not. The Captain says the deal’s off unless somebody comes
clean.”