Free-Wrench, no. 1 (4 page)

The Triumph
pulled close to his little
dinghy and threw across ropes to tether them together.

“I apologize for what you seen me do, ma’am.
Sun’s nearly up and all, which is our cue to skedaddle most days,
so I didn’t see no harm in heeding to nature’s call. Figures you
all would show up and make a fool out of ol’ Ichabod. That’d be me,
by the way, ma’am. Ichabod Cooper. Pleased as punch to meet you.”
He held tight to the dangling chain and leaned out over the water,
extending a hand for a shake.

Nita obliged him. “Amanita Graus.”

“Pleasure, Miss Graus. Now, before we get to
business, I got to get this out of the way.” He reached into a
pocket inside his coat and pulled a rough sheet of paper out,
staring at what was written upon it as though it was a particularly
challenging puzzle to unravel. When he spoke, it was with the slow
and unnatural diction of someone who was unaccustomed to reading in
general, and completely unused to doing so aloud. “Hel-lo. Dear.
Sir. … Do. You. Have. The. Time.”

“The time is bright and early,” Drew
recited.

Ichabod furrowed his brow, then turned his
face upward and bellowed. “That right, Cap’n?”

“Just get on with it,” rumbled a reply from
somewhere inside the ship.

“Well, all right. So, what are we after
today?” Cooper asked. He rubbed his hands together and flipped open
some of the chests. “Gunner said you were interested in the girlie
pictures last time.” He pulled out another portfolio. “We’ve got
some more of those.”

Drew cleared his throat in embarrassment. “I
was interested in the
fashion.
”

“Oh.” Cooper flipped through the portfolio.
“Then you probably won’t like these. No fashion as such.”

“Oh, uh, not so quickly,” Drew said as Cooper
began to tuck the portfolio away again. “There’s an inherent
artistic beauty to the female form. I’ll trade you a quarter bag of
Calderan sea salt for it.”

“Sold. Anything else I can do you for
today?”

“Last month I’d asked about that device for
making these pho-to-graphs.”

“Oh, that’s right. Gunner said something
about that. You’re in luck. It took some doing, but we managed to
get our hands on one for you.” He unearthed a leather-wrapped box
with an odd, pleated sleeve emerging from the front. The front of
the sleeve was affixed to a lens and mounted to a runner. Knobs and
buttons littered the top of the box. “As I understand it, this here
box, along with some fancy paper and some bottles of fancy
chemicals, are all you need to make them pictures, so long as you
follow the instructions. You get the box and enough paper and
chemicals for a hundred pictures or so. What’s your offer?”

“I’ll give you a half bag of salt.”

“If we’re talking salt, I figure three bags
is more in line with the cap’n’s expectations.”

“I’ll go as high as a full bag.”

“Then you’ll be getting your picture box from
someone else.”

“Fine, a bag and a half.”

Cooper tipped his head from side to side,
then quietly said, “I’m not so good with figurin’. How’s that
compare to three?”

“Favorably,” Drew said.

“It’s half as much,” Nita clarified.

“Eh, half’ll do. It’s a pain lugging it up
and down. Anything else?”

“Just a bottle of whiskey. Ten year.”

“The man’s got some fine taste. I keep a
bottle of this myself, for toothaches and such like.” He fished out
a stout bottle of thick brown glass. “Let’s see. That was a bag and
a half for the picture box and all that, plus a quarter bag for the
girly pictures. What’s say we just call the whole lot of it two
bags, so’s I don’t have to go pouring things out?”

“Suits me,” Drew said, hefting the two bags
across and receiving his goods in exchange.

“Now, for the lady. What’ll it be,
ma’am?”

“Do you carry medicines?” Nita asked.

“Oh, we got all sorts of treatments that’ll
cure your many ills. This here liniment, for instance, is
guaranteed to take care of any muscle aches you might have.” Cooper
revealed a familiar brown bottle.

“That just looks like more whiskey.”

“It’s got a million uses, ma’am. Treats just
about anything that might ail you, particularly if you suffer from
what Cap’n calls an ‘excess of sobriety,’ which I’m sorry to say
he’s been having quite a bout with of late.”

“I was hoping you might have a treatment for
a specific disease. Something called Gannt’s Disease.”

“We mostly carry sundry and recreational-type
things. Proper drugs are a bit of a chore to get.”

“Well, do you at least know if such a
treatment exists?”

“I don’t rightly know. I’ll check.” He looked
up and bellowed, “Cap’n! You ever heard of something called… what
was it, ma’am?”

“Gannt’s Disease,” she replied, loudly enough
for the unseen captain to hear.

“Well now, a question of a medical nature
would more properly be addressed to our resident medical
practitioner
, wouldn’t it?” growled the muffled voice.

“Good thinking, Cap’n. Butch! You ever heard
of—?”

Before he could finish, a torrent of words in
an unrecognizable dialect poured out of a different part of the
ship. Cooper nodded thoughtfully.

“Gives you shaky fingers? Makes you keel over
after about twenty years or so?” he asked.

Nita nodded, trying to shrug off the casual
way in which her mother’s plight was described.

“Sounds like it!” Cooper said. More
unrecognizable yelling followed. “Seems they don’t call it that in
our parts. Them fuggers got that one worked out, though. Not the
sort of thing they’d usually share with the likes of us,
though.”

“Fuggers? Wait, are you telling me there is a
cure?”

“Butch seems to think so, but like I said, we
don’t carry it. It’d be a fair bit of trouble to lay our hands on
some.”

“I don’t care. I’ll pay any price.”

“For a special order like that, it’d be a
pretty big price, ma’am.”

“I am Amanita Graus, one of the oldest
daughters of the Graus clan. We are among the most wealthy and
influential families in all of Caldera. I can meet any price.”

Cooper looked her up and down and gave the
air a sniff. “I don’t pretend to know how rich folk from your parts
usually look or smell, but I gotta say, you ain’t what comes to
mind. Not that it matters, of course. Round these parts, cachet
don’t mean too much. You’re only as rich as what you brung with
you. So how much you got?”

“I’ve got three bags of salt.”

“A special order like that? Three bags is a
good start, but it won’t get you all the way there. What else you
got?”

She rummaged through her bag and revealed the
brooch. It was polished silver, engraved with complex filigree, and
set with amethyst and amber. By Calderan standards it was quaint
and simple. Judging from how wide Cooper’s eyes had grown, he had a
higher opinion of it.

“Cap’n! She’s got a bit of jewelry here that
I think’ll pay for… well, I think it’s… remember back when we had
to replace some turbines and you had to sell that ring of yours?
It’s about like that.”

“That’ll do,” the captain hollered back.

“Right, ma’am. We’ll take the salt and the
jewelry and head on out to see if we can’t find that medicine of
yours. We’ll be back just about this time next month. The pass
phrase is—”

“Oh no. I’m not giving you this payment just
to send you off with the hopes of getting what I paid for. I want
some sort of guarantee.”

“There ain’t no guarantee to be
had
,
ma’am. The fuggers ain’t too keen on parting with stuff like that.
We’ll have to meet with our supplier. There’ll be discussions,
haggling and such. Might be we’ll be back again next month with
empty hands. Of course, we’ll give you your payment back, minus
some expenses, but—”

“Then I’m coming with you.”

“Ma’am, you can ask your friend. We ain’t
gonna just run off with your money. We’re professional.”

“It is non-negotiable.”

“We ain’t no passenger liner, ma’am.”

“I’ll pay extra, but this is very important
to me, and if there are negotiations to be done, I want to be
present to see that everything in your power is being done to
attain the treatment.”

“I understand, ma’am, but there’s more to it
than that,” he said, vague frustration behind the words, as though
he was running through a tiresome and all-too-frequent speech.
“Smuggling a few odds and ends back and forth is one thing. Doing
the same with people on board looks an awful lot worse to the
people who might catch us. You’ll be with us for a month. If people
get the idea we took you without your permission, that’s kidnapping
or trafficking or some such. Not to mention you might die, which
your folks might call war. That’d cost us pretty dear. Ain’t worth
the risk.”

“If it will cost you more, then I’ll pay
more. I’ve got this.”

She revealed one of the smaller coil boxes.
Upon seeing it, Drew’s eyes shot open and he snatched the box from
her hand.

“Are you crazy?” he said.

“What? You said they liked trith.”

“Did you say trith?” Cooper said, interest
piqued.

“I said a
bit
of trith. A few washers
or something. Not a whole coil box.”

“How much you got there, ma’am?”

She snatched it back from Drew and slipped a
screwdriver from her tool sash. A few deft twists loosened the face
plate, which she twisted aside to reveal the purple-black spiral
within. She handed the box across to Cooper. He took it, then
fished in his pocket until he found a coin. Clutching the box tight
in his hand, he scratched the coin against the coil, then held it
up to find a neat little notch had been carved out of the coin
without so much as a scratch on the coil.

“Uh, Cap’n!” he said, his voice a bit shaky.
“This young lady here wants to ride along while we look for her
medicine for her.”

“Well, then you explain our policy regarding
passengers.”

“I did. She’s willing to pay with trith. Got
a whole box here. Feels like about half a pound.”

“And there’s more where that came from,” Nita
said, loudly enough to be overheard.

The waves lapped against the boats as all
waited for an answer.

“Did you tell her the
whole
passenger
policy?”

“Oh, right. Forgot that other bit.” He turned
to Nita. “You reckon you’ll be able to pitch in and all that?”

“I’ll do my best.”

“That ain’t the question, ma’am. We all do
our best. The question is, do you reckon your best will be good
enough to do the job? And to pay the consequences if you don’t
measure up?”

“I’ll do whatever it takes.”

He looked her up and down. “She looks like
she might be able to lend a decent hand along the way, and she says
she’s willing. What do you say, Cap’n? … Cap’n?”

After a short pause, the splash of a rope
ladder unfurling into the water between the boats came as the
captain’s answer.

“Well, all right then.” He handed back the
coil box and held out a hand to help her over. “Welcome aboard the
Wind Breaker
, ma’am.”

“Nita, you can’t do this,” said Drew.

“If it means giving mother her life back, or
at least her life’s calling for even a few years, then I must.”

Cooper gave two quick tugs to the chain. “Get
ready to haul the captain’s gig once we’re up! We’re running late
as it is! Watch yourself, ma’am. After you.”

Nita tested the strength of the ladder, then
slipped the coil box into a pouch on her belt, strapped her bag to
her back, and began to climb.

“You’ve got the passwords for next month,
right, Drew?” Cooper said.

“Yeah, I do. Nita, think about this for a
moment. It will be dangerous out there! You’re breaking the law!
We’re not supposed to leave the borders of Caldera without permits!
What’ll I tell the foreman? What’ll I tell your mother?”

“Tell them I went on a trip. I haven’t taken
any leave in months,” she called over her shoulder. “I’ll be fine,
Drew. How bad could it be?”

Nita, still heavily loaded
with her tools and the sack that contained her payment and her
change of clothes, labored a bit to reach the top of the shaky
ladder. Things became slightly easier once the bottom of the ladder
pulled taut with a second passenger, but after a moment a
realization came to mind.

“Mr. Cooper?” she called over her
shoulder.

“You can call me Coop, ma’am,” he
replied.

“Very well, Coop,” she said, stopping for a
moment to catch her breath and better engage in conversation. “Are
you staring at my bottom right now?”

“Well, ma’am, you’re ahead of me on the
ladder. I can’t rightly do otherwise at present,” he said. “I was
always taught ladies first, but I don’t think Ma and Pa ever
anticipated this particular situation. Could be worse though,
ma’am. At least you’re wearing britches instead of a skirt.”

“True enough. I don’t suppose you could look
aside until I reach the top of the ladder.”

“If it’d make you more comfortable, ma’am,
but if its privacy you’re looking for, you’ll find it a bit hard to
find on an airship. Close quarters and cramped spaces don’t leave
too much room for modesty, and thing’s’ll be a good deal tighter
with another soul on board. Looking away now, ma’am.”

“Thank you, Coop.”

She hurried up the final stretch of ladder
and crawled through a small hatch in the belly of the ship. It was
wrapped in three sides by a railing and led into a tight, dim
little room that smelled strongly of gear oil and burning coal. The
roof was low, barely high enough for her to stand without stooping,
and the only light came from a handful of bizarre little
contraptions arranged along the top edge of the wall. They looked
like glass pipes with brass fittings on either end, and they gave
off a weakly pulsing glow of sickly yellow-green. At either end of
the room was a winch, and manning the lever beside one of them
waited a young woman with more than a passing resemblance to
Cooper, who was pulling himself into the ship now. In the center of
the room was a much larger hatch than the one they’d climbed
through, beneath which hung the boat.