Steemjammer: The Deeper Truth (9 page)

Chapter 8

THE ORIGINAL STEEM-FAILURE

“What possible good,” Will asked, “could come from giving them a fake piece of Tracium?”

As soon as the Rasmussen youths had gone, Donell and Angelica had appeared. They’d taken a dark hallway to the short man’s office.

“Fake Tracium?” his sister said.

“Aye,” Donell grinned. “We slipped a wee wrench in the enemy’s gears.”

“They’ll realize it’s fake,” Will protested, “and that’s that.”

A mischievous fire seemed to sparkle in the short man’s eyes. “Maybe.”

Will stopped as it hit him what the object could be. “Donell, it can’t be a bomb. Gunpowder doesn’t explode here.”

“True.”

“It would just fizzle, which might start a fire, but they’d put it out before it could do any real harm.”

The short man couldn’t erase a look of glee from his face. “Quite right.”

“You’ve invented some new explosive that works?”

“Nay.”

“Whatever it is, will it hurt Bram?”

“Oh, I doubt it.” Donell cast a serious eye on them. “If it did, so what?”

Thinking back to how the young Rasmussen had talked about the estranged relationship with his parents, particularly his father, Will wondered if he’d made a mistake allowing himself to feel sorry for Bram.

“While I don’t like him,” Angelica said, “I don’t think we should hurt him, either. I know he didn’t mean to, but he did save Will’s life.”

“He would have done far worse than killin’ him,” Donell argued, “had he only known the truth! Ye have tah keep in mind, both o’ ye, tha’ those coldhearted Raz murdered many people that day in Beverkenfort. Men, women, children. They would’ve killed ye that day, Will, and lass, ye wouldn’t have e’en had the chance at life.”

“Does that mean we should murder children?” Will countered.

Donell sputtered with frustration, feeling caught on his words, and ended up with a coughing fit.

“Nay, lad,” he said between hacks, “and I dinna think Bram will get hurt. Just be careful with all this soft-heartedness. That young Rasmussen snake will harm us. Only a matter o’ time.”

“You’re not going to tell me what I was just a part of?” Will asked.

“Ye’ll find out soon enough. My advice, lad, is tah put it out o’ yer head. Come on. There’s a lot tah do.”

Will refused to budge. “With respect, Mr. Ogilvy, no. You owe me answers, just as I owe my sister. I won’t take another step until we settle this.”

The short man sighed heavily. “Yer Auntie Stef is waitin’ for us, and I think she aims tah settle a number o’ things. Would ye consider a few more steps before ye plant yerself like a tree?”

Will glanced at his sister, who seemed to feel a lot better because of his admission to her.

“Let’s go, then,” Angelica said. “I guess I can wait a little more for answers.”

***

“It’s too early to celebrate,” Stefana said with a twinkle they hadn’t seen in her eyes before, “but I think it’s safe to say the worst is behind us.”

Donell had led Will and Angelica to Giselle and Cobee. Then, they’d gone down a hallway restricted to Steem Museum staff and arrived at a locked workshop, where their Tante Stefana waited.

“Tonight you’ll be safe,” she continued. “We expect the Rasmussens to remain quite busy, cautiously examining their new acquisition. At some point – in a few days to a few weeks – they’ll learn the truth, and pandemonium will break loose.

“Specifically, the Rasmussens will know who you are. Even Cobee. It was inevitable, sooner or later, so don’t feel bad.”

The Steemjammer kids spoke over each other trying to get her to spell out what she meant.

“Please,” she said. “You’ll learn soon enough.”

“That’s what Donell just told us,” Angelica complained.

“That’s because we have much more important things to worry about. Tomorrow, a little after nine in the morning, the verltgaat should open in Tante Klazee’s house. I want you all there and going through.”

“You mean we’re never coming back?” Angelica said with a heavy heart. “I didn’t get to say goodbye to my new friends.”

“Of course you’re coming back. In Beverkenhaas, you can safely open a way to the Steem Museum, the place where you first entered. After that, we can look through your father’s journal and find better coordinates.”

“And then try to find him? And Mom?”

“That’s the plan.” She glanced at Giselle. “After we rescue Deet.”

“What if,” Will asked, “the verltgaat doesn’t open?”

Tante Stefana took a moment to frame her thoughts. “There may be other ways to return to Old Earth, which we’ll explore at that time. If it doesn’t open, we’ll need to get all of you to safety, including Tante Klazee.”

Cobee seemed to deflate. “You mean I can’t go to the Steemball Tournament?”

“Is that all you can think of?” Angelica chided.

“To be honest, yes.”

“What if,” Giselle asked, “Marteenus gets into the sub-basement and finds the machine?”

Stefana stiffened but fought to keep a brave face. “We have to pray that doesn’t happen.”

The others took that in.

“Tante Stefana,” Angelica said, her voice trembling, “it will open, won’t it?”

“I think so.”

Will put a reassuring hand on his sister’s shoulder. “We’ll need you there, to open and shut it in case I can’t.”

“What?” Angelica cried with a start. “Why won’t you?”

Will tried to explain but found he couldn’t.

“Your brother,” Tante Stefana said gently, “is worried he may have lost his goot steem. If this is the case, you or one of the others will have to open and shut the verltgaats.”

Angelica’s eyes opened wide with shock. “The Rasmussens did something to him?”

“He had to do something to survive,” Tante Stefana said, pressing her glasses back to the top of her nose, “and to ensure they didn’t turn him against us and all freedom-loving people of this world. He had to deny his name.”

A shocked silence fell over the room. Will tensed, forced to relive the memory. Glancing down, he saw that Angelica had both hands pressed over her mouth, and even Giselle seemed taken aback.

“Understand,” Tante Stefana continued, “that he had no choice in the matter. He did what had to be done, knowing there was a steep price to pay.”

“No more goot steem?” Angelica whispered.

“At least it didn’t kill him.”

Stefana forced a smile and moved the little girl’s hands away from her face.

“That’s a good thing, neh?” Tante Stefana said, and her niece nodded. “Anyway, I’ve had some time to think about this, and I realized there’s something that should make you all feel better.”

Except for seeing the verltgaat opening and beginning a meaningful search for his lost onkel and parents, Will couldn’t imagine what that might be.

“What?” he managed.

“The source of much confusion,” she answered, motioning for them to follow. “I don’t know why we didn’t show you this the first day, save that we didn’t truly understand your situation. Well, come on. Don’t you want to see the original ‘steem-failure?’”

***

“When’s the next airship due?” Bram demanded. “The moment it arrives, I’m commandeering it.”

Behind his desk, Clyve bristled at the young man’s energy, unsure what to do. Bram and his hulking bodyguard had just barged into his office atop the main tower of the Texel complex, unannounced. Clearly, something had happened, but what?

“
Skyshadow
is overdue,” Clyve said, glancing at a schedule, “but even you shouldn’t casually interfere with the Protectorate’s timetables.”

“Oh yeah?” Bram challenged, reaching into his pocket.

Leaning forward, Clyve saw the object in Bram’s hand and sprang to his feet, astonished.

“You found it?” he said.

“That’s right,” Bram replied, pocketing the dull lump of metal. “I found it.”

Clyve found himself at a loss for words.

“Amazing,” he managed. “This came from information the Stevens boy supplied?”

“It came because I stopped you from killing him.”

Take the offensive
, Clyve told himself,
or he’ll sense weakness and go for the throat.

“What did you promise him?” he accused.

Bram laughed. “You’re so small-minded. Once we have real power, who can hold us to our oaths?”

Clyve was taken aback by the youth’s tone, and he found himself doubting where he might stand in such a new Beverkenverlt. What about the things he’d been promised? Would those be cut off, too?

“That’s an incredible find,” Clyve said with forced enthusiasm. “Of course, the next airship will be rerouted to the Shadoverks. Until then, I’d think it should be kept somewhere safe.”

“Your desk drawer?” Bram scoffed.

“Of course not. There’s a vault in the basement.”

“Your vault, cousin? No, I think the safest place for the Tracium is right here.”

He patted his pocket, and Lockwood shot Clyve an intimidating glare before following the youth out.

***

Behind the workshop in a high-ceilinged storage room stood a large and very odd, ancient-looking machine. It was round and armored: an iron-reinforced wooden tower resting upon numerous heavy wheels. Cannons and curved blades stuck out here and there, and atop it sat a catapult.

“You’ve expressed worry,” Tante Stefana said, turning up a number of lamps so they could better see it, “that our name can be translated to mean ‘steem pity’ or ‘steem failure.’”

“It doesn’t mean that?” Angelica said hopefully.

“‘Jammer’ has many meanings. Another way to express our name is ‘steem folly’ or even ‘steem toy.’”

“I don’t get it,” Giselle said. “What’s the difference?”

“As you know, our ancestors moved to Old Amsterdam-”

“Excuse me,” Angelica cut in, “but it isn’t called that. It’s just Amsterdam.”

“Lass, dinna interrupt,” Donell whispered.

“It’s all right,” Stefana smiled. “That’s something I should know. Anyway, they moved there to escape war, but then war followed them. A large imperial army marched across the land, taking fortresses and towns. If it wasn’t stopped, it seemed certain that Amsterdam would fall, and with it, the Dutch revolution.

“Times were desperate. If the empire regained control, all the reforms, including ones of tolerance and freedom, would be lost. Some spoke of fleeing across the sea to distant colonies, but even there, it was feared, slavery to an empire would be inevitable. Something had to be done, so our ancestors took up the challenge.”

“They designed this,” Will asked, “for war?”

“Nay, it was Leonardo Da Vinci who did tha’,” Donell said, turning to Stefana. “Sorry.”

“Go on,” she said. “I know you love this story, unless it will give your stomach troubles.”

“History does in general, aye, but not a tale like this. So, Mr. Da Vinci’s plans had it powered by men or oxen, so many that it would’ve been ridiculous. Folk considered it a fantasy or folly, because how could that kind o’ power be achieved practically?”

“With steam!” Angelica said.

“Aye, struth, but what steam? Who knew of it back then? It turns out your ancestors did, havin’ moved tah Holland and needin’ a steady power source tah replace their waterwheels. They made all the pieces and went by barges tah a town right in the invadin’ army’s path, where they set about assemblin’ their modified war machine.”

“They built this,” Giselle marveled, “in the 1600s?”

“This is a replica,” Tante Stefana said.

“Don’t spoil it!” Donell urged.

“This was when they made the world holes?” Giselle asked.

“Tha’ came a wee bit later. So, the contraption was too big tah hide, and curious townsfolk had no idea what tah think. With the imperial army gettin’ close, the general sent a captain tah demand the town surrender, or everyone would be put tah the sword!

“Yer ancestors bravely told him tah leave before they unleashed the wrath o’ their secret war weapon. When he saw it, the captain laughed so hard he fell off his horse and cracked a rib. He swore they’d regret tryin’ tah turn him into a fool with a ridiculous
steem jammer
.”

Angelica frowned. “What happened?”

“The very next mornin’, in a heavy fog, the imperial army appeared on a field before the town. The general sent a message that they’d take no prisoners, tah expect a slaughter. The answer was a kind o’ huffin’ and chuggin’ noise, the likes o’ which those soldiers had ne’er heard!