Wind Dancer: Secret War Steampunk Series - Adventure, Mystery + Mad Science (17 page)

“Oh, I…” gathering her breath, she spoke in a hurry as if
afraid she would change her mind. “May I ask you what may be an impertinent
question?”

‘If you don’t mind an impertinent answer, go ahead,” Will
replied easily.

“Why do you do… what you do?” she asked hesitantly. “I saw
the aftermath of the battle on the ship. I was sure that I had fallen in with
another bloody−handed lot of killers. But seeing this,” she pointed at
the dais, “and talking with you, Saira, Devi and Paddy, I wonder why you do it?
You are certainly intelligent. Why don’t you just trade cargoes or something?
Why not let the navies do the fighting?”

Will hesitated. He knew that he’d had too much to drink, and
needed to gather his thoughts. He used the time to fill and light his pipe with
a Lucifer stick, before answering her.

“We
are
a lot of bloody−handed killers, Abigail,”
he smiled thinly at her as the smoke rolled out between her lips. “That is what
we do. We don’t kill for no reason, and we don’t kill just because some deep
pocket gives us money to kill someone. We generally don’t kill at all unless
they try to kill us first, but it
is
what we do, make no mistake.” He
puffed on the pipe stem for a few moments, the smoke wreathing him in a gray
shroud. “We’re good at it too; for all that we mostly take no pleasure in it.”
He drew on the pipe again, before continuing.

“As for why, everyone has their own reasons. Mostly though, I
like to think that it’s because of what I said. We’re all mongrels in one way
or another on the
Dancer,
and deep down we can’t abide those who are
just plain mean to them what is weaker.” He waved his pipe. “I give you one Hu
Fan, a rabid dog, bringing misery and death because he
like
d it.” He
replaced his pipe and drew on it some more, “And then there are those who do it
‘cause they think they got a
right
to. Which is most righteous−feeling
sorts, including your governments, in my opinion, to answer your earlier
question.”

“I am sorry, but I do not follow you there,” Abigail frowned.

Will spread his hands in opening gestures while he talked.

“I’ve traveled around a fair bit, and seen a bit more, Abigail,”
he explained. “Mostly from where I stand, a ‘government’ no matter the names,
or customs, comes down to a man with a gun at your head telling you what he
wants you to do, or not do, for your own good. Most bandits are more honest at
least.” He shook his head, “I don’t think that’s how we were meant to live.”

“I think that is a bit over simple,” Abigail said curious
now, “but given that, how are we supposed to live then?”

“We are meant to be Free.” Will said simply. “We should live
so that we can follow the spirit of our hearts.” He looked at her, “You still
don’t understand.” He stood up, holding out his hand, “Come with me and I’ll
show you something that may help explain it.”

Abagail regarded his hand before taking it. From another man
at another time, she might have taken this as an invitation to ending the
evening in bed, to put it delicately. However, she had observed that while the
Wind Dancer’s crew were physically demonstrative, they were also refreshingly
direct in their intentions.   Captain Will had given her no indications of any such
intent.

Therefore, she took his offered hand without further
reservations, and the two of them walked out of the mess together, nodding to
Devi as they went. She nodded back briefly, then returned to her music, the
Engineers’ face awash in a serenity that Abigail envied.

Wordlessly, Will took them up a winding wood stair, them down
the corridor to a wooden cage set in the wall. Abigail recognized that it was
some type of lift.

“Where are we going?” Abigail asked.

“Topside crow’s nest,” he replied. “Been there yet?”

“No, I haven’t,” Abigail replied in puzzlement. Will grinned
at her.  

 “Thought not,” He gripped a lever set on a pedestal. “Not
afraid of heights are you?”

“Not as such, no,” Abigail answered. There was a whine and
the sudden sensation of motion, as Will pulled the lever.

They emerged into a large open space that she thought was
many yards across, though it was difficult to tell as the only illumination
came from faint rows of light tubes that stretched horizontally before and
behind her. As a figure passed before one of the lights, she realized that they
marked walkways that ran the length of the upper hull.

“We’re following a shaft that goes though the center of the
main hull,” Will explained. “Mostly it’s so that we can get supplies up to
Bobby and his riggers if there’s a large enough leak in one of the gas cells or
the like.”

“But this is amazing,” she exclaimed, Brushing back a loose
strand of hair. She looked back at Will excitedly. “I had read that airships
must by their construction have a large open space in the upper hull, but I had
no idea it was so, well, enormous.” Will grinned at her.

“Something, isn’t it?” He looked
around. “Mostly how big the space is becomes a balancing act. The space has to
offset the weight of the occupied levels minus the number and size of lift gas
cells.”
He gave a one shoulder shrug, “I like to keep
Dancer
light and frisky, and so we always run a few tons under budget.”

Abigail nodded understanding, while crossing her arms against
the increasing chill as they rose. She didn’t imagine they could heat such a
large area in any practical way. In fact, the heating and cooling of the air
itself must be one of those factors in the Captain’s ‘balancing act’.
Everything would have to be considered, she thought in approval. It was very
scientific really. This led her to another revelation.

“Of course,” she said animatedly, “That is also why
everything aboard that can be made of wood or cloth is, because of the weight
factor.” Will leaned back against the wooden cage with his arms crossed,
smiling at her enthusiasm. It was good to see her perk up.

“Aiya,” he agreed easily. “We’re not at strict about it as
say, a merchant ship is, but that’s the general idea. Like I said, I like to
run her light so there’s more room for unexpected cargo such as British
Scholars.”

Abigail didn’t quite know what to make of that last. Her eyes
narrowed, as she realized he was dissembling somewhat. She looked at him as if taking
his measure all over again. It took a certain intellect to be able to
effectively run such an enterprise, and from what she had seen William Hunting
Owl was very effective at it. She tilted her head, regarding him. A sharp
noxious odor suddenly assailed her nose.

“I say,” she remarked, “What is that odor? That can’t be a
good thing.”

“Lift gas,” Will pronounced. He looked unperturbed. “There’s
always some lift gas that escapes into the main cavity, no matter how good your
maintenance is. We must be going through a small cloud of it.”

“They add something to it that makes it smell bad so that
it’s easier to find a leak, you know. It’s nothing to worry about, it won’t
kill you, but it may make you talk funny for a minute if it gets strong enough
in concentration.”

“Yes, I’m familiar with the effect,” Abigail smiled in memory
at this. “We used to inhale lift gas mixtures in school to change our voices.
We thought it quite the lark.” She placed a hand over her nose. “It didn’t
smell anything like this however.”

“You get used to it,” he said wistfully. “Back when my Da was
on the
John Paul,
all of us ratcatchers would sneak up into the cavity
together, and poke a hole in a lift cell with a metal straw to do the same
thing.” He looked up, “Good. We’re here.”

Abigail looked up to see a hole the ceiling from which light
poured down. The cage was moving up through it and then came to a shuddering
halt in some sort of room. Abigail had to blink for a moment in the relative
brightness, after the darkness of their ascent.

The room was lined with many portholes, broken up by heavy
coats and other equipment on hooks. In the center stood another of those
corkscrew stairwells the ship seemed to favor, leading up. Will walked over to
it and leant against the railing. He looked up the stairway.

“Ahoy the nest!’ he called. A startled white face peered down
at them though the opening.

“Ahoy Cap’n!’ the man greeted. “All’s quiet as far as we can
see.”

“Good John, good,” Will grinned up at him, “Just wanted to
wish you a good Second Day. Sorry you drew the watch, it was a good party. The
Lady Abigail and I are just going to go outside for a bit.”

“Short end of the straw Cap’n,” the man replied easily. “Tell
me that we’ll get shore−leave this landing though.”

“Can’t promise you that”, Will shook his head. “Depends on
how well the business goes.”

“We rightly should you know, after missing the last two ports
o call.” John replied. “Ain’t fair is what it is.”

“I’ll see what I can do, John,” Will promised. “You’ll be on
the first call if leave happens.”

“Can’t ask for more than that,” he said in satisfied tones.
“We’ll get back to it then, if there’s nothing else, Cap’n.” Will waved him
away.

“Carry on John,” he said. “We’ll show ourselves out when
we’re done.”

“Aye, aye Cap’n. Enjoy, it’s a fine night.” The face
vanished. Will walked over to a wall. He picked up two of the heavy coats,
handing one to Abigail.

“You might want to put this on,” Will advised. “It does get
chilly outside.”

“Are we going outside?’ Abigail asked, taking the coat.

“Downstairs you asked why we do this,” he said earnestly. I
want to show you something. Indulge me?” He held open the door for her. The
sudden change of air pressure moved her hair. She glanced at him uncertainly,
then stepped through the door.

Abigail nearly stumbled. They were on a narrow platform with
a wooden railing. In the clear night air all she could see about her were
stars. It was as if she were swimming through the void itself. She clutched the
railing reflexively. She heard the door close behind her, and then Will’s voice
was at her ear.

“It gets everyone that way the first time,” he moved
carefully around her. “Keep hold of the rail and follow me.” She followed
behind him. At the front of the enclosed ‘crow’s nest’ he stopped. There was
room enough for her to stand beside him on the platform. What she assumed was a
mount for either a telescope or a weapon of some kind was fixed to the railing
between them.

Will swept his arm outward silently. She looked at the view
before her; it was breath−taking in its beauty. Gleaming sliver in the
moonlight, the top of the giant ship was like a sea prow moving through an
ocean of stars. Except for the wind and the deep far away drone of the distant
propellers, it was surprisingly silent. She breathed deeply of the cold air,
and realized that no matter how clean the ship and crew where, there was a
pervasive odor of ‘person’ for lack of a better descriptor, that she had simply
blocked out of her awareness. It was gone from her nose for the first time in
days. She breathed again, marveling at the view before her. They stood that way
together in silence for some time. Finally Will spoke almost too softly for her
to hear over the wind.

“You asked why we do what we do,” he said quietly. “This is
the real why. So we can keep doing this. Do you see any empires, or kings, or
presidents up here? This,” his arm moved in an arc over his head, “this is
where Man was meant to be and what he was meant to be doing.” He looked at
Abigail and gave her a half salute. “And Woman too of course”. She nodded
silently and together they looked out at the passage of the stars around them.

After a time in the silence, he spoke again.

“Thing is,” he said low enough that she had to focus her
attention to hear him, “there are people aplenty who don’t want us to have
this. They’d rather hold us down under them, just to do it, you know. They’d
rather kill everything and everyone that’s is good for mere greed, than let
anyone have something that they might not be able to grasp.”

“The why of it don’t really matter, in my opinion.” He said
with a shrug. “Some do it because they think that the color of their skin makes
them better than others. Same thing except it’s because of what lies between
their legs, the Spirits they sing to, or the tongue they grew up speaking.”

“But not everyone is like that,” Abigail protested. “Even
those who are like that, mostly are that way because of their sincere beliefs,
however mistaken.”

“I don’t know about that,” Will retorted. “I think it’s mostly
because they’re afraid of something, and then they make up reasons why. But
that’s not my call, you see. I don’t claim to know what’s better for them, even
when they claim they do know what’s better for me.”

“They’re wrong, Lady Hadley,” Will went on. “I
know
what’s for me, and it’s this,” he said pointing into the sky. “I’ll fight to
keep it, and I’ll fight anybody who tries to keep anyone else from it too if
this is what they want. No matter how noble their words are, you know, at the
end of the day, they’re just small and mean to deny anyone this. We were meant
to walk in Beauty, Lady Hadley, We were meant to fly.”

Abigail looked at his head framed against the stars, and
found there was nothing she could say to that. She found that his words had
touched something deep in her heart, even as her mind turned them over and
over. She looked back out at the universe, and felt both exalted and small at
the same time. She thought of her own life, and what had brought her to this
place. Impulsively she asked him without turning away from the stars before
them.

“Captain, if you could have the power to do anything,
anything at all, what would you do with it?” She felt him to turn to look at
her puzzled by the question.

“What kind of power?” He asked. “Do you mean wave-your-hands-poof
spook−type power, or engine power, or ‘the world has to be as I want’
power?”