Skyjackers: Episode 1: A Proper Nuisance (Skyjackers: Season One) (7 page)

Chapter 8

The Marquis of Bixbury might’ve been vexed if he’d seen
two of his prized stallions being slathered with mustard and sweet relish, but
since Benedict Caine had neither a painter nor a photographer handy, he would
be unable to offer any such proof of the occurrence. Junior and the
Stratustarian
’s
crew were covered in yellow and green after having emptied several jars of each
onto the animals’ flanks and spread them with their bare hands.

Benedict, meanwhile, sat in his lounger a distance away,
drink in hand. “That’s the stuff,” he shouted. “Give ‘em the old man-massage.”

Junior wiped his forehead, leaving behind a chunky yellow streak.
“Are we done yet, Dad?”

Benedict considered. “You missed a spot between the brown
one’s cheeks, son.

Junior muttered to himself and moved to obey.

Benedict laughed. “Not those cheeks. The other ones. Never
mind, Junior. I’ve seen enough. Release them.”

Poleax blinked. “What was that?”

“You heard me correctly, Poleax.” Benedict stood and took the
musket from the crewman standing beside him, replacing it with his half-full
glass of cognac. “Stay close behind me, now,” he told the man. “I may need a
drink at a moment’s notice.”

“You’re setting two horses loose in the jungle?” Poleax said.
“That’ll be like dipping two fingers into a pool of piranhas.”

“Precisely,” Caine said. “Two delicious fingers slathered in
pickles and mustard. Those horses will attract every apex carnivore from here
to the abandoned city.”

“But these are rare and expensive animals,” Poleax insisted.

“Yes, and well-documented, too. Try selling them, if you
fancy a ten-year stint in a Roathean prison.”

“You can’t just sacrifice them…”

“Can’t I? Fat lot of good they’re doing for me here. Might as
well get an exotic pelt or two out of the deal. I’m planning to make a gift of
one for my Gertrude.”

“What about the ransom?” said Poleax.

“The ransom was intended to include twelve stallions. Two
won’t fetch me enough to pay someone to kick your arse for failing me. No, my
dear Poleax. I am afraid it is time to cut our losses and move on.”

Poleax Longworth was far from the bravest man alive, but he
had a distinct problem with cruelty to animals. He decided then that he would
save those horses—even if he had to battle ferocious tigers to do so.

***

When the
Maelstrom
touched down outside
Alexander Atwell’s castle, Jonathan Thorpe couldn’t have said goodbye to his
old friend quickly enough. He was aboard in two seconds flat, ready to give
Manchester and the others a piece of his mind. Vin Harlow interrupted him as he
was about to call an all-hands meeting.

“Admiral’s on the line for you, Cap’n,” Harlow said.

“For me?”

“Aye. He’s just finished congratulating Mr. Manchester on the
successful retrieval of the Finustrian crown jewels.”

“Wait. What? Manchester didn’t retrieve them… I did.”

“Well, sir, since you retrieved the jewels, and Manchester
retrieved you… that’s got a roundabout way of working out, as I figure it.”

“That’s preposterous.”

“Just telling you what I know, sir.”

Jonathan reached the radio room in time to hear Manchester
laying on the charm. “It was nothing, sir. Nothing at all. Just doing what I
could in the line of duty. Any man worth his salt would’ve done the same.”

Jonathan nearly crashed through the door. “Hello, Manchester.
Would you like some bread to go with all that buttering-up?”

“Captain Thorpe. I beg your pardon, sir. I was just begging
the Admiral here not to go so hard on you. He’s awfully keen to speak with you.
Here you are.” Manchester handed Jonathan the receiver and stepped away.

Jonathan muffled it against his chest and said, “I’ll deal
with you later.”

Manchester tightened his lips, but said nothing.

“Admiral Farrelly,” Jonathan said into the radio. “I—”

“Thorpe.”

Jonathan knew from the first word that this wasn’t going to
go well.

“Thorpe, you’ve got a lot of nerve. I might’ve expected
behavior like this from some plebian cadet pulling pranks at the academy. For a
man of your rank, this is wholly unacceptable.”

“If you’ll just let me explain, sir.”

“Manchester gave me all the explanation I need. For a captain
to abandon his post is shameful. Just shameful.”

“I didn’t abandon my post. They left without me.”

“How did they leave without you if you were at your post?”

“I—they—I only left for a short while.”

“And what’s all this business about you tangling with the
Caines again? I thought I gave you very specific instructions to the contrary.”

“You did, Admiral Farrelly. I
was
able to get the
crown jewels back, though.”

“And you put your ship and the lives of your crew at risk to
do so. I’m told that redheaded bitch nearly blew the
Maelstrom
out of
the sky. Have you any idea the expense you might’ve caused the fleet, thanks to
your carelessness?”

There were many ways Jonathan could’ve replied to that. He
could’ve mentioned that his crew had fled like cowards and left him alone to be
captured. He could’ve defended Vivian’s honor from the nasty name the Admiral
had called her. Or he could’ve pointed out that Vivian had only fired blanks
from her cannons to scare his crew, and so there was never any real risk of
damage to the
Maelstrom
. Jonathan could’ve explained that he had only
left the
Maelstrom
to help a friend. But how would he avoid telling the
Admiral he’d lied to keep that friend out of trouble? In the end, all Jonathan
could say was, “I do, sir. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

“I should hope not, Thorpe. Next time, instead of a
tongue-lashing, you may find yourself on the rather unpleasant end of a real
one.”

The Admiral slammed his handset down so hard, Jonathan could
swear he felt the tremors in the soles of his shoes.
You’re up a creek now,
aren’t you?
he thought.
From now on, no more mistakes. Duty first, and everything
else second
.

That was when Jonathan’s mother called.

Afterword

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Skyjackers
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