The Flux Engine (24 page)

Read The Flux Engine Online

Authors: Dan Willis

BOOK: The Flux Engine
8.95Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“What’s a ghoul?” Crankshaft asked.

“They’re mythological,” Robi answered. “People who get strength from eating corpses.”

Crankshaft made a face and Holliday smiled.

“Very good, young lady,” he said with a mock bow. “You haven’t been neglecting your studies.”

“I thought she said ghouls were mythological,” Crankshaft said.

“Well, these leakers don’t exactly wait for a body to become a corpse before they start eating,” Holliday said. “It’s the closest thing I could think of.” He shrugged again, spinning the cylinder of his gun and tucking it into his sash. “Helps to give things names. It keeps them from getting scary.”

Robi laughed. A high-pitched, warbling, nervous laugh. Knowing that the mad leakers were ghouls didn’t make them less scary in her mind.

“What about you?” she asked, finally standing up from where she’d crouched. “Didn’t you take the cure?”

“I was otherwise engaged at the time and I felt disinclined to change my schedule just for Solomon’s benefit.” Holliday laughed. “If his cure worked today, it would work just as well tomorrow.”

“You didn’t trust him,” Robi guessed.

Holliday opened his mouth to respond but something spooked him. With a speed Robi could barely accept as real, he drew both his guns and backed up toward the porch.

“Put your guns away, Doc,” Hickok’s voice came through the smoke. “It’s just me.”

A few moments later Wild Bill Hickok strode out of the smoke. He still had on his ripped shirt but had his left arm tied in a makeshift sling. His pistol was in its holster and he held his short sword loosely in his right hand. As Robi watched, blood dripped from its tip into the dirt.

“What happened to you?” Doc Holliday asked in an amused voice.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Hickok said. “Now unless you want to stand under this burning building, I suggest we head down to the docks.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” Crankshaft said, stepping off the porch.

Robi followed, but Doc hesitated.

“You coming?” Hickok asked. Holliday shook his head.

“I have some things here I’d rather not leave behind,” he said. “The ghouls don’t seem to mind me, probably because I’m a leaker. I’ll be all right.”

Hickok thought about that for a moment, then shrugged.

“You still on good terms with Virgil?” he asked.

“I was never on good terms with Virgil,” Doc said with a chuckle. “But I know where he is. Took a town marshal job after he got shot up in that incident in Tombstone.”

“Tell him to get out here quick as he can and take charge of this mess,” Hickok said. “Solomon was doing some bad things here, things that shouldn’t fall into the wrong hands.”

“You sure you want Virgil? He’s an Alliance man.”

“Can’t be helped,” Hickok said. “I’ve got to go.”

“Take care of yourself,” Holliday said, raising his hand in a sign of salute, then he turned back into the smoke and vanished.

“All right,” Hickok said. “I’ve cleared the way to the dock; stay together and keep your eyes peeled.”

Robi started off at a jog, keeping pace with Hickok. Dozens of bodies littered the street. She hadn’t noticed it before, but Hickok’s ammo belt was empty and the bodies on the ground all had sword wounds.

No wonder it took him so long to reach us.

“Bill?” she asked, something tickling at her memory. “The ghouls … I mean the crazy leakers, they were bleeding from the eyes.”

He nodded but didn’t say anything. Robi took a deep breath and gave voice to her fears.

“What if whatever Solomon gave them is the same thing he gave John? I mean it’s not really a disease, so what if the Paragon Elixir can’t stop it?”

“Shaft,” Hickok said, turning to the lanky black man. “You got any more ammo for that shattergun?”

When Crankshaft shook his head, Hickok gripped his short sword tightly, holding it at the ready.

“When we get to the
Rose
,” he said. “I go on alone. Neither of you come on board till I give the word, understand?”

Robi understood.

Chapter 26

The Rendezvous

John dreamed of his mother. He remembered her auburn hair and the way she smelled of rose petals, the softness of her hands and the warmth of her smile. It was as if the Paragon Elixir sharpened his memories, giving him fleeting images and impressions that had lain buried in his subconscious for years.

He saw her hands as she held his face. The mouth moved in the shape of
I love you
. Then she was gone. It had been the last time he’d ever seen her.

Pain hit him like a speeding steam cart, carrying the memories away and sweeping him back to reality.

His face was pressed to the deck of the galley and every part of his body hurt. He was soaked with what he hoped was sweat and his gut felt like someone was twisting a blunt knife in it.

Gritting his teeth against the pain, John forced his eyes open. Even the light hurt, stabbing his eyes as he squinted to see. He clutched his stomach as the world swam slowly into focus.

“How do you feel?”

It was Hickok’s voice but it seemed to come from far away.

John forced his eyes to move until he saw the enforcer sitting in one of the chairs. He had pulled it away from the table and sat there with his short sword lying across his lap.

How did he feel? Like he’d been stuffed in a barrel of rocks and rolled down a hill.

He cursed Hickok but that was all he could manage.

Whatever Hickok was expecting, that seemed to take him by surprise and he laughed. John hadn’t realized that the big man had been sitting erect and taut, as if ready to spring. As he laughed, he relaxed, slumping down into the chair.

“So you don’t want to take a bite out of me?”

John wasn’t sure what that meant, but he shook his head. At the moment what he wanted most was to just die and be done, and he said so.

“Cheer up,” Hickok said, putting his sword away. “The worst is over.”

The knife in John’s gut twisted again and fire shot up his spine and into his brain.

O O O

He must have passed out because the next thing he knew he was in his bunk. The regular thrum of the airship engines vibrated through his mattress and a gentle stream of sunlight came through the small porthole above his bed.

Sitting up was a struggle, but he wasn’t in any pain. With effort he dressed himself and headed unsteadily out into the hall and toward the galley.

The iris window was open when he arrived, filling the room with soft light. Robi, Crankshaft, and Hickok sat at the table eating something that looked like stew and smelled wonderful. John wasn’t sure if the aroma was due to superior cooking or to the fact that he couldn’t remember the last time he ate, but his stomach didn’t care and growled loudly enough to announce him.

Robi jumped up and threw her arms around him in a tremendous hug that nearly knocked him over and left the smell of sandalwood perfume lingering after. Crankshaft poured him a bowl of the stew while Hickok helped him into a chair. They all asked how he felt at once, and he gave the only answer he could, “Hungry.”

While he ate, they took turns filling him in. He nearly choked when Robi described the ghouls and their escape from Piston Falls. His dropped compass continued to move, so he must have lost it on Professor Solomon’s airship. Now Sylvia was using its twin to follow Solomon.

“What happens when we catch him?” John asked between mouthfuls.

“We put a shot across his bow.” Hickok chuckled.

“What if he’s reached his destination and dumped his cargo?”

“We follow the cargo,” Robi said. “If he’s delivered it or sold it, I should be able to find out where it went. There’s usually a few of my father’s old contacts in any decent sized town.”

Crankshaft put another bowl of stew in front of John just as he finished the first.

“Eat up,” he said. “You need to get your strength back.”

John started in with vigor but then realized something. “I thought that Paragon Elixir was supposed to make me stronger,” he said.

“Give it time,” Hickok said.

John had to trust that Hickok knew what he was talking about. As if sensing his doubt, Hickok pulled up his shirt to reveal bandages wrapped around his torso.

“Three broken ribs,” he said, moving his left arm up gingerly. “Another couple of days and they’ll be good as new.”

“Not if you keep waving your arm around like a chicken trying to fly,” Crankshaft reprimanded.

Hickok responded but John wasn’t listening anymore. He’d been disoriented when he woke up and then he’d been focusing on his food. Now that he’d had a chance to gather his thoughts, he realized that something was missing. An airship the size of the
Desert Rose
would need a big lift engine to stay afloat. John had always heard the crystals of the lifter as a background hum, even in his tiny cabin. Now, as he sat, ears straining to hear, there was nothing.

The sound of the crystal harmony that kept the airship up was gone.

A cold chill ran down his spine. He’d known the Paragon Elixir would change him, but how could it change something so fundamental to who he was?

He took a breath to calm himself, forcing his raging emotions into check.

Maybe it’s like my muscles, weak now, but it will come back in a few days. Maybe.

What if it doesn’t? How will I find my mother’s crystal then? How will I find my mother?

Images from his dreams rose up in his mind’s eye and he ground his teeth in angry frustration. The thought of waiting a few days to find out if his gift was gone forever made him angry. If it was like his muscles, just weak, then if he held a crystal, he ought to be able to hear it.

He stood up suddenly, resolved to go straight to the engine room and touch one of the lifter engine crystals.

At that precise moment a bell rang throughout the ship. The effect on Crankshaft and Wild Bill was immediate. They each jumped to their feet, the engineer heading for his engine room and Hickok heading for the gun locker.

“What’s that?” Robi asked, rising as well.

“Sylvia’s found our missing professor,” Hickok said, tossing John his gun belt.

“He’s on the ground in Sharpsburg,” Sylvia’s voice explained. “It’s just inside New Virginia.”

“Can we come in without him seeing us?” Hickok asked.

“Sharpsburg is a trading hub,” she said. “There are a dozen warehouses and twice as many airships there right now.”

“Good, they won’t notice one more. Bring us down at a skydock nearby, double-time.” Hickok turned to Robi. “Go get that compass from the pilothouse.”

Robi ran to the stairs and headed forward while Hickok pulled a spare duster from a cabinet next to the gun locker. This one wasn’t as ornate as his usual coat, just a plain brown leather one. He made an irritated face as he donned it.

“What are you waiting for?” he asked.

John hadn’t realized that he’d just been standing there holding his gun belt, torn between following Hickok’s instructions and running for the engine room. It would be easy to explain why he desperately wanted to touch a crystal to see if he could still hear it, but he didn’t want to tell Hickok. There, in that moment, he felt like it would be revealing a shameful weakness, that somehow Hickok would see him as less of a man, so he buckled on his gun belt instead.

He finished tying the leg strap just as Robi returned. She held the compass with the sympathetic crystal in her hand and wore a small, close-fitting backpack over her clothes. The crystal in the compass was under glass, but John should be able to hear it if he held it. He opened his mouth to ask Robi for it, but at that moment the deck pitched under his feet and he had to grab the table to keep from falling.

“We’re coming down,” Sylvia’s voice said as the airship yawed hard to one side. “I’ll have us alongside the dock in a few moments.”

“Okay,” Hickok said, stepping to the door that separated the galley from the deck. “Once we’re down, we stick together and follow the compass until we find Solomon’s airship. As soon as we find it, you two stay put and let me check it out.”

“I could sneak on board and—” Robi began but Hickok cut her off.

“We’re not interested in Solomon’s ship,” he said. “We need to find whoever is picking up his supply of flux. With any luck, they’re still here. Everybody clear?”

They both nodded, then Hickok opened the door. A blast of hot, dusty air rushed in and Hickok plunged out onto the deck. Robi followed, then John, who shut the door behind. As he moved amidships, the
Desert Rose
dropped down beside a solid-looking brick building with painted eaves and planter boxes full of well-tended flowers. An attendant in a braided jacket stood on the dock in a funny cap, apparently waiting to welcome them. Mounted to the wall above him was a painted sign that read simply,
The Royal
.

“Save it,” Hickok said as the overdressed man began to speak. He flipped over the lapel of his duster where he had pinned his enforcer badge. “See my engineer about the docking fee.”

He pushed past the man onto the dock and kept going until he reached the street below.

“Which way?” he asked Robi. She consulted the compass, then headed off toward the west side of Sharpsburg.

“Try to keep up, boys,” she called over her rapidly vanishing shoulder.

Hickok had no trouble following Robi with his long, ground-eating strides, but John had to break into a trot several times. Whatever effect the Paragon Elixir was supposed to have on him, it clearly was taking its time. By the time Robi stopped in front of a shabby, two-story warehouse John was winded and sweating.

“Let me take a look,” Robi said. Hickok looked like he would protest but she went on. “Solomon knows you; if he sees me on the street, he won’t give me a second look.”

Wild Bill considered this for a moment, then gave a curt nod that sent Robi off like a shot. She disappeared around the side of the warehouse and John unconsciously held his breath. He was finally forced to gasp for air after a minute but still Robi failed to appear.

“All right,” Hickok said, loosening his gun in its holster. “She must be in trouble, let’s go get her.”

“Ye of little faith,” Robi said from behind them, close enough to make John jump. He wasn’t the only one taken by surprise. Hickok whirled and had his gun halfway out before recognizing the speaker.

Robi had changed into a boiler suit, a rough, leather coverall that protected workers from furnace sparks, hot pipes, and steam leaks. She had a brown bundle slung over her back, held in place by a length of rope over her shoulder.

“Solomon’s airship is docked behind the warehouse,” she said, setting down her bundle. “Another airship is inside and men in boiler suits are moving the cargo.” She unrolled the bundle, revealing two more suits like she wore. “I’d have been back sooner, but I had to pick these up.”

“Where …” Hickok began but decided to let it drop. He took off his duster and donned the suit, placing his folded coat inside before zipping it up.

John struggled into the suit Robi had provided. Boiler suits only came in one size, big, and he had to tie the arm and leg cinches around his wrists and ankles to keep it in place. He wondered how she was maneuvering so easily in hers. Once they were done, Hickok turned to Robi.

“So how do we get in?”

Robi smiled, acknowledging Hickok’s admission that he needed her and nodded toward the back of the warehouse.

“There’s a door in back,” she said. “Once we’re inside, we’ll just mingle with the workers and slip on board the buyer’s airship.”

“Just like that?” John asked. “Won’t someone notice?”

Robi rolled her eyes.

“Trust me,” she said. “Whoever they are, they obviously feel safe; that’s why Solomon had to come here. Don’t worry,” she went on, leading them around to the back of the warehouse. “Loading an airship is boring. No one’s watching.”

O O O

Derek Morgan was watching.

From the moment the Shokhlar had given him this task he’d been uneasy. Something about Solomon having trouble had bothered him. When he finally met the man and heard that he’d had a run-in with an enforcer, he felt justified. An enforcer meant the Alliance was interfering after all, and just because they didn’t send warships didn’t mean they wouldn’t try to take the
Vengeance
if they could. Even a single enforcer was a danger.

“You sure they’re dead?” he asked of Solomon for the fifth time.

“In the Builder’s name, Morgan, give it a rest,” Solomon said in impatient frustration. “Even if they’re not, there’s nothing for them to go back to. I perfected the Ravager serum! By now every leaker in Piston Falls has become a flesh-eating monster.”

Solomon chuckled and Morgan had to resist the impulse to slug him. He understood that necessity drove them to do business with all kinds of people, but Professor Solomon was a particularly repugnant specimen. There was no denying he was brilliant, the kind of man who could have done great things, but he seemed to take pleasure in the suffering of others. Morgan guessed that it was what drove him to study leakers, not to help them, but to make their misery greater.

It seemed that, on that front, he had succeeded.

Morgan shuddered involuntarily and returned his gaze to the work at hand. Several dozen men in boiler suits were using wheeled dollies to move drums of flux from Solomon’s hold to his airship. Each three-man team worked smoothly, hauling their barrels to the hold, then returning for more, carrying their dollies as they went. The effect was a caterpillar-like line of barrels crawling between the two ships. At the rate they were moving, his transport airship would be loaded and ready to fly within the hour.

He’d watched the loading carefully, vigilant of any signs that something was amiss. So far the only thing he found was a few of the workmen who were smaller than the others, but Morgan didn’t put it past Solomon to hire cheap child labor. Everything was as it should be.

So what was that incessant warning in the back of his mind?

“Did I tell you who the Alliance sent to meddle in my business?” Solomon said, his voice dripping with eager anticipation.

Morgan didn’t care in the least but it seemed he’d have no peace from the disgusting little man until he’d
said
his piece.

Other books

Mine's to Kill by Capri Montgomery
The Trouble-Makers by Celia Fremlin
Smoky Joe's Cafe by Bryce Courtenay
The Water's Kiss by Harper Alibeck
Goodbye Ruby Tuesday by A. L. Michael
The Next Sure Thing by Richard Wagamese
The CleanSweep Conspiracy by Chuck Waldron