Wind Dancer: Secret War Steampunk Series - Adventure, Mystery + Mad Science (14 page)

“That was more than a bit alright,” he said to her. The
others sitting at the table agreed with murmurs and nods.

“Thank you,” Abigail said. “I fear however that I have made
something of an enemy over it.” Roger shook his head.

“You have to give Tikku no mind. By the time you see her
again she’ll have passed it off,” he said to her. “She’s always setting up to
fight with someone. Best thing that ever happened to her was getting into the
Tigers. She’s full of fight she is.” Again the murmurs and nods of agreement
from the others seated around the end of the table. “Besides, we aint at all
prejudiced,” he reassured her. “We don’t care if you was born of the silk
crowd. You seem more than a bit alright to us for the fixin’ of the engines. Roger
Bates is the name, Rigger Second Class, welcome aboard.” He lifted his mug
towards her. “Cheers.” Abigail raised hers in kind.

“Cheers,” she replied with a smile.

Chapter Ten

Upper Corridor, Wind Dancer

South China Sea

The following days were some of the happiest that Abigail
had ever known. Devi Neelam turned out to have a wealth of practical knowledge
about Tesla engines that Abigail had never encountered before, neither in books
nor from lectures at college. Every day brought a new challenge and new
learning. She was also pleased to find that there was much that she knew that
Devi did not, and together they added several improvements that Abigail was
quite proud of. Not the kind of things that one could write up for a journal
perhaps, but solid engineering work.

Saira had pulled her away a couple of times to show her
different areas of the ship. She had gained a new appreciation for airships and
those who crewed them. She was especially impressed by the ‘riggers’, the men
and women who climbed out on the hull itself to inspect and maintain it.
Perhaps it was because she could never imagine doing so herself. She even grew
accustomed to enjoying the communal baths, something that had been outside her
experience beforehand. Now she wondered why such a thing was not done by
everyone.

She did not see much of the Captain during this time. Saira
mentioned something about negotiations taking his attention. She was very
surprised then to see him waiting for her when she closed the engineering door
behind her. He was leaning against the wall, clad in his usual leather pants,
linen shirt, and sleeveless vest. He seemed to be always wearing the large
pistol at his hip. The many small brass discs embedded in the vest reflected
the light as he stood to greet her.

“Captain Hunting Owl,” she greeted him. “What brings you down
to engineering?”

“Working somewhat late aren’t you Lady Abigail? He asked.
“How are my engines?” She noticed that one of her braids had come lose and
began to re-do them.

“Oh, I assure you they’re fine. I was just rewiring some of
your conjunction relays. You should now have an additional million watts or so
per cycle. I understand that should be helpful to you.” She finished re-winding
her braids, setting them in place with the bone pins she’d borrowed from Devi.

“Very helpful,” Will agreed. “But I thought that Devi would
have told you to knock off for the day some time ago.”

“Well, she did mention some kind of event, but I really
needed to finish the rewiring. I’m not much for parties, you see.” She finished
somewhat awkwardly.

Will crossed his arms and frowned at her, creases written in
his dark face.

     “I am concerned for you, Lady Hadley,” he announced. He
cocked his head to one side, “I’ve heard that all you’ve done the last three
days is work down here, eat, and sleep. Forgive me but I’m a blunt sort. Are
you
alright? Anything that I should know about?” Abigail felt the heat rising to
her cheeks. Damned complexion, she thought to herself.

“Oh no Captain,” she replied, “everyone and everything has
been most excellent. You have a very professional engine crew and a beautiful
ship.” She took a breath and confessed. ‘To be perfectly honest, I so seldom
get to work on real equipment that does real functions that I find it
incredibly satisfying.”

He nodded, giving her the boyish grin that Abigail had seen
on their first meeting. “Well,
Wind Dancer
aims to please. Devi
certainly has had nothing but good things to say about what you’ve done for us.
I must insist that you accompany me now though. It’s not just ‘an event’ it’s
Second Day. Consider it a Captain’s order.”

He held out his arm still smiling, and patiently waited her
response. He really was rather charming for a mercenary killer, Abigail thought
to herself. Then she realized that she had been bathing and eating with
mercenary killers for days now. Coming to a decision, she placed her arm in
his, and smiled back.

“Second Day?” she asked him, as they started walking, “I am
not familiar with it.” She was acutely aware of the smudges on her face, and
the fact that she needed another bath after working in the heat of the engine
room.

“No need to get all cleaned up or anything,” he reassured her
as if divining her thoughts. “Most crew will be coming either right off shift,
or it’s just before they start one, so it isn’t fancy. You are fitting in so
well that I forgot that you would not know about Second Day.  As for what it
is,” he shrugged. “It simply means that we’re about two days out from landing.
The party is supposed to bring good luck for the landing.

Story has it that it goes all the way back to Admiral von
Zeppelin and the first
Victory
. When they were two days out from London,
they had a sort of a ‘hurray, it looks like we’ll make it’ party.” He shrugged
again. “Makes sense of a sort. They would be going into battle pretty much at
landfall, so why not let the crew blow off some tension two days
before
they reached their destination? Anyway, most air devils keep it now. Sometimes
it’s only a drink at mess, sometimes more, especially on longer flights. God
help the captain that tries to not let the crew have the party.” He grinned at
her again, “We’re a superstitious lot really. Besides after the battle with Hu
Fan they’ve earned a bit of fun. They’re a good crew.”

“I see,” Abigail said, taking this in. “May I ask why you
refer to yourselves as ‘air devils’? It seems a strange self-naming to me.”

Will laughed, “Again it’s an old saying going back to the
War. Your Christian Way has these spirits that are called ‘angels’, and one of
them fell from the skies and was called a ‘devil’ thereafter yes? Became the
bad spirit when he did so, right? And some day he is supposed to storm the
heavens, no?”

”Well, yes,” Abigail blinked. “That’s more or less right.
There’s much more to the story though.”

Will nodded wisely, “There always is.” He shook his head,
“I’ve had people try to explain the Christ Way to me, and it’s even more
confusing than the Hindi Ways that Saira talks about. Don’t you see though,” he
said seriously to her, “that’s what we do; we ‘storm the heavens’. Every day.”
He stopped talking as they continued walking, and then turned back to her
grinning “And we’re as likely to fall and be damned when all is said and done.
So,” he asked, “how are you getting on with the crew?”

Abigail laughed at the question.

 “At first I think some where a bit uncertain as to how I
would take their rather liberal use of profanity. However, after I called Tikku
a banging slot
in response to
her
comments, things seemed to relax
considerably.”  Will missed a step and stared at her.

“You said what?” He sputtered at her. 

Abigail just looked at him.

“Please, Captain,” she said, “I am a Scholar, not a nun,
after all.”

Will nodded.

“Right,” he said, clearly recovering from his surprise. “Well,
that’s the way to handle Tikku.”

“Oh, she is really a bit alright once you establish what is
what,” Abigail said. “If I may, it seems to me that you have a most amazing
crew. After the War, much was said about all mankind becoming brothers.”

Will gave a snort at that statement as they continued
walking.

“Precisely, my point,” Abigail nodded at his response. “While
much is said about brotherhood, it is my perception that action seldom follows
from that.” She remembered her encounter with colonial prejudice at the Air
Tower in Bombay with a dull anger. “In fact, much the opposite. To our common
disgrace I might add. Yet here on
Wind Dancer
I see men
and
women
of every possible origin working and living together. How do you manage this?”

Will laughed, and pulled thoughtfully on his braid while they
walked.

“Well, it’s not from any
noble ideal
, I can tell you that,”
he said thoughtfully. “Lots of airships are similar. We don’t have time for
foolishness.” His brow furled as he gathered his thoughts. “The War changed a
lot of things, I am guessing. Men and women were swept up from wherever they
were. They fought together, and then died together. In the air, where you came
from, what color you were, or what you had between your legs, wasn’t as
important as if you could stand by your salt, and do your job well.”

“After the War, many tried to go back to what they’d been
before. Many did in fact.” He shrugged, “But some couldn’t either.” He grinned
at her ruefully, “We’re the misfits, I guess. Some of the
olders
found
that home wasn’t what they remembered, or liked the air life better. Some of
the
youngers
are half-breeds from the War and have no place, or grew up
on an airship, sometimes both things, like me.” He grinned at her again. Some
devils start as mudfoots who don’t fit in.” He waved to take in all of the ship
around them. “Except up here, except in the sky.”

Abigail nodded at this, thinking as they ascended the main
port stairs. From the direction of the mess hall she heard the sounds of music
and laughter. As they came closer, she saw a man and woman stagger arm in arm
out of the mess doors, the noise inside cut off like a knife as the doors
closed behind them. She heard Will chuckle softly. “Looks as if someone started
the celebration early,” he murmured to her. As they approached the couple,
Abigail saw that both of them appeared to be trying to hold each other up as
very drunken mates will tend to do.

“Cap’n!” the woman slurred, drunkenly. She pulled away from
the man, waving vaguely behind them. “I think that they’re warmed up and ready
to lift!”

The man stood, slightly weaving, nearer the wall. He touched
his forehead to Will in salute. “Beggin’ your pardon for starting early,
Cap’n”, he said with the exaggerated care that very intoxicated people are
prone to. “But with your permission, me and Sandy here have some private
matters to − discuss.” Will shook his head, regarding them both gravely.

“While private discussions are private,” Will agreed, “I
would appreciate you both clearing my hallways. Neither of you are in any shape
to be walking them. Now git, off with you both.” His smile took some of the
sting out of his words.  The look of relief on the young man’s face was comical,
while the woman simply smiled at the Captain, taking the young man’s arm in her
own again.    

 As they squeezed past Abigail and Will in the narrow
corridor, the man murmured a quick ‘Lady Hadley’. The woman echoed the greeting
as she passed Abigail. Will turned to watch them as they went, then called out,
his hands cupped to his mouth.

“Ravin! Sandy!” he said. “This does not mean that you are
excused from duty tomorrow! I expect you both at you stations in the morning!” They
both raised their hands without turning.

“Aye, Aye, Cap’n!” they chorused, and then staggered off down
the hallway together. Will watched them go, shaking his head.

“Youthful spirits,” he explained, seeing the look on Abbie’s
face at this encounter. “The whole party won’t be like they are,” he reassured
her. He held out his arm towards her again. “Well Lady Abigail, shall we go in?”

Abigail swallowed, remembering again the salacious ‘penny-dreadfuls’
of Mrs. McDougal, her housekeeper, and what they said about air pirate parties.
She reminded herself again that nothing untoward had happened to her so far on
the cruise. Smiling bravely, she took his arm.

“Of course,” she said gamely. Will looked at her as if he
wasn’t fooled, but led them towards the double doors anyway.

The room beyond was hot and full of smoke. Lively music came
from a makeshift dais that had been set up at one end of the room, the other
occupants banging on their tables in time to the music.

There were a half dozen people on the dais with different
instruments, including Devi Neelam. Devi was sitting with a multi−stringed
instrument that made soaring patterns of music that wove in and out of the
flutes, pipes and drums of the others. The tables had been pushed against the
walls leaving a clear space in front of the stage where two men danced a jig
together. She scanned the crowd of people and saw Saira stand up from one
table, waving them over.

She exchanged nods and smiles with others she didn’t know as
they wove their way to towards the table. To her confusion they all appeared to
know her though. The captain shouted over the noise while releasing his arm,
“Lady Hadley, have a seat!” He gestured to the bench beside him.

As she settled, she returned greetings from the others at the
table. Saira was sitting on the lap of a dark skinned man, both of them clad in
silk robes of blue and green. Saira gave a small wave of her hand. She saw
others at the table who were unknown to her. There was a short ginger haired
man with a ruddy complexion who scowled a nod, next to him a blonde woman who
waved, and a grizzled old man who touched his forehead. Another man dropped two
short dark bottles in front of them.

“Thank you, Captain,” she shouted back.

“Call me Will,” the captain said. “There’s no rank in the
mess.”

“Will,” she nodded, “In that case please call me Abigail.”
She pointed to the bottle, “What is this?”

“Rum ration,” He explained. “You’re about three days
overdue.” He popped the cork on the bottle for her and handed it back. He stood
up and raised his own bottle over his head. Gradually the noise of conversation
stopped. The musicians ended on a flourish. In the silence, everyone rose to
their feet holding a drink. Abigail followed suit. Will’s voice rang out over
the room.

 “Well shipmates, once again we reach a Second Day,” he
paused for a moment.  “This one has been a touch more hairy than some, I will
allow.” Chuckles ran around the room at this. Will waited for them to die down
before continuing, “But you all can take pride in the fact that a scum dog like
Hu Fan won’t be plyin’ his trade anymore.” A surf wave of agreement met his
words. “Here’s to a safe landing and to Queen Victoria!” He tipped his bottle
towards his lips.