Authors: John Claude Bemis
The Pirate Queen slumped down onto a cot against the opposite wall and fumbled through her coat until she found a cigar. “He’s certainly not helping us.”
“Isn’t he?” Buck asked.
The Queen brought the cigar almost to her lips before freezing and staring dubiously at Buck. Si said, “What do you mean?”
“He could have killed me,” Buck said. “By any measure he should have. But he didn’t.”
“He had a few bad swings with the razor,” the Pirate Queen sneered. “He was busy shoving you in the lake.”
“Murder is his art,” Buck said. “If he’d wanted, he’d have killed me. It’s not just that. He said something. Before he threw me in the lake. He said …” Buck paused and furrowed his brow. “ ‘Hope rises at liberty’s feet.’ No, that wasn’t it. What did he say?”
“What does it matter?” Conker said. “You think he was spouting words of wisdom?”
Buck’s lips were drawn tight, and a cough brought his hand up to his chest as he winced in pain. “No,” he murmured. “It was like it was a hint or something.”
“A hint about what?” Si asked.
The Pirate Queen rose and pulled Buck’s covers up. “It doesn’t matter,” she said after Buck settled back on the pillows
with a grumpy look on his face. “I wouldn’t trust Stacker to tie my noose. You’re supposed to be recovering. Doctor Lamprey’s orders.” She waved a hand at Conker and Si. “You two clear out and let Eustace rest.”
“See you, Buck,” Si said, giving his hand a squeeze. Conker followed her up the gangway and on deck.
By the following day, Buck was joining them for meals and had moved quarters down with the crew on the lower deck. “I wish I could tell you more about the Hall of Progress,” he said as they gathered in the galley late that night to discuss their next move. Buck had told them about the upper level where he’d been held and about the displays on the main floor between the elevator and the main entrance.
“You’ve given us a good start,” Lamprey said. “But we still don’t know where the Nine Pound Hammer is.”
“They said it was on display,” Buck said. “I couldn’t find it. Something seemed—” He began coughing, holding his hand to his chest.
“You’re going to bust those stitches,” Lamprey growled as he poured Buck a mug of water and slid it across the table to him. Marisol narrowed her eyes at him and then looked over at Redfeather.
“We’ll need to be certain where the hammer is before we go after it,” the Pirate Queen said, giving Conker a frown before he could argue again that they should sneak in that night. “Mister Lamprey, you’re trying to get your trash crew transferred to his hall?”
“We’re doing our best, my lady. Asked the boss for a switch, but …” He shrugged. “No luck yet.”
“What about the crew that works Grevol’s hall?” Conker asked. “Can’t you ask them if you can switch?”
“Never seen them,” Big Jimmie said. “They’ve got the three of us running ragged just to get through our route each night.”
Mister Lamprey added, “There’s hundreds of men on sanitation, lad. And these Expo grounds are enormous. No time to figure out who’s assigned where.”
Buck put a fist to his mouth as he began coughing again.
Big Jimmie gave a wide yawn before saying, “To be sure, if I find out which workers got the Gog’s hall, I’ll break their legs so they’ll need replacing.”
“Then there’s no other choice,” the Pirate Queen said, casting an irritable glance at Buck as he continued coughing. “We need to send someone through the front door, like the rest of the tourists. Only way we’ll be able to get a proper look at the … Tarnation! Eustace, you sound like a barking dog with all that coughing. It’s late. Why don’t you get yourself to bed.”
“I … I’m not feeling well,” Buck said, pushing back his chair.
“I’d guess not,” Lamprey said. “Floating in the lake and all. Lucky you en’t come down with pneumonia.”
Buck stood and then stumbled to one side.
“Whoa,” Conker said, catching Buck and propping him back up.
Big Jimmie came around the table. “Come on. I’m due for bed myself. Let me help you down to the bunks.”
As the two headed out the door, Marisol leaned forward and said in a quiet voice, “What do you think, Si?”
Si’s eyes were still on the door as Buck’s coughs reverberated down the stairs. She shook her head. “I don’t know.”
“What are you two jabbering on about?” the Pirate Queen barked.
“Remember that man we told you about?” Marisol said. “The one who showed up at Nel’s. From Omphalosa.”
“You mean the one who escaped from the Darkness?” Conker asked.
“The one who
died
from the Darkness,” Si said, her voice barely above a whisper. “He coughed like that.”
The Pirate Queen snarled. “Come now … Eustace never even went to Omphalosa.”
“No,” Redfeather said. “But he’s been in Grevol’s hall.”
Conker frowned. “You said yourself, Grevol had to bring the Machine from Kansas to Chicago. He’s still assembling it somewhere in the Gloaming.”
“We don’t know,” Marisol said.
“He’d have unleashed his Darkness over Chicago if he was finished,” the Pirate Queen said.
Marisol threw her hands out in exasperation. Javidos popped his head up and hissed from where he’d been resting her lap. “All I’m saying is that it’s strange that Buck seems to be sick after he’s been imprisoned in Grevol’s hall. I hope I’m wrong.”
“Me too,” Conker said. “But if we’re going to send someone into the Hall of Progress, we’ll have to assume the worst.”
Redfeather looked around at the others. “So who should it be? Who’s going in?”
“I look ridiculous!” Marisol said the following morning. “This dress is about two decades out of fashion.” She stood before a mirror in the Pirate Queen’s chambers, brushing a hand across the green silk bustle skirt.
“How do you think I looked wearing it?” the Pirate Queen snarled.
Marisol’s face became blotched. “You looked … lovely, my lady.”
Si covered her smile with her hand.
The Pirate Queen called to the screen where Redfeather was dressing. “You suited up yet, Sparky?”
Redfeather came out in Mister Lamprey’s plaid sack suit. “A little short,” he said, looking down at the cuff riding several inches above his brown shoes.
“It’ll do,” Conker said.
“Tell me again why
we
need to be the ones who go in,” Marisol said.
“You two went to Omphalosa,” Si said. “You’ve seen the Darkness. If there’s something going on in Grevol’s hall, you’ve at least got Nel’s charms to protect you.”
“But you and Conker could use them just as easy,” Redfeather said.
“I ain’t going to fit in that monkey suit,” Conker said. “Besides, you two won’t stand out near as much as we would. You look like …” Conker paused to find the word.
Si offered, “Dandies?”
The Pirate Queen laughed. “Tourists. You’ll pass easily enough. Now, Mister Lamprey’s ready to take you ashore. He’ll wait at the docks for you. Leave the snake here.”
Marisol had Javidos halfway up her sleeve. “But what if we’re caught by the Gog’s agents?”
“That copperhead won’t get you out of that fix,” the Pirate Queen said. “And neither will we, so try to be careful. Now, get going.”
Redfeather and Marisol glumly climbed the gangplank, where the pirates above howled with laughter as they emerged. Mister Lamprey helped them aboard a dinghy and rowed them to the White City’s docks.
As the afternoon got late, Conker waited up on deck for Marisol and Redfeather to return. Other paddle-wheel boats and cruising yachts drifted up and down the lakeshore. Music and laughter seeped up from the
Snapdragon
’s galley. Conker looked up at the pilothouse and saw the Pirate Queen smoking a cigar in the darkness, watching the docks with a spyglass. A bandy-legged pirate named Malley kept watch down at the stern. Si and Piglet played a game with knucklebone dice on the foredeck.
Conker’s thoughts returned to Buck, who was already asleep belowdecks. His coughing had continued, but according to Si, the Omphalosa man had survived for weeks after leaving the Darkness. Besides, maybe Mister Lamprey was right and Buck had taken ill from being in the lake or from the razor wounds. Conker felt that was almost too much to hope for, especially as Buck’s face had an ashen look to it.
“My lady,” Piglet said behind him.
The Pirate Queen was coming down the pilothouse’s steps. When she reached the deck, she snapped the spyglass closed and said, “Lamprey’s returning.”
Conker followed her to the stern, and a few minutes later
the rowboat appeared. When it reached the steamer, Mister Lamprey tossed a line to Conker. He held it while Marisol and Redfeather climbed back onto the
Snapdragon
’s deck.
“Up to the wheel,” the Pirate Queen ordered. “Lamprey, bring us coffee! Piglet, I want you and Malley and two others on watch. Make sure they weren’t followed.”
Conker hurried after the others up the steps to the pilothouse. Settling on a bench against the wall, Marisol and Redfeather loosened their collars to breathe. The Pirate Queen knelt to scratch the underside of Rosie’s chin, and Si leaned against the console beside Conker.
“Well?” Si snapped.
Marisol took the pouch that Ray had sewn from around her neck and gazed down at it in her palms. “We went in.”
Conker realized that Marisol’s fingers were trembling. Redfeather looked shaken as well.
“And?” the Pirate Queen said.
Redfeather looked up. “It’s as Jasper said. The Hall of Progress is like a black fortress. It’s not beautiful at all, not like the other buildings. I suppose to the fairgoers it looks like something practical. Something functional. Like an engine or a mill. And I heard many saying such. That the hall represented the future, not a harkening to the past.”
“I don’t care about the aesthetics,” the Pirate Queen said. “What’s inside?”
Marisol shook her head slowly. “The strangest things I’ve ever seen. Engines that seem to run on little more than air. Armored locomotives, like the steamcoach we followed across the plains, but bigger and mounted with cannons. There was an enormous machine—”
“An analytical engine,” Redfeather said.
“What’s that?” Conker asked.
“I’m not certain,” Marisol said. “But it could do all these calculations. Some of the visitors seemed awed by it, but we didn’t really stop to find out.”
“At each display,” Redfeather said, “there were these clockwork men. What were they called? Automata, I think. Their skin was made from brass. They could speak through little horns placed in their mouths, and they explained each exhibit, just like a regular person would.”
“Could they think?” Si asked.
“I don’t know,” Redfeather said. “They didn’t answer if you spoke to them. They just talked, and they could walk and pick things up and move around just like they were alive.”
Marisol’s face tightened. “I’d have been delighted if I hadn’t known these were the Gog’s devices. There’s a whole army of clockwork men in that hall! Other beasts too. Horses and dogs. Nothing like the Hoarhound. That would be too terrifying to display. What the Gog is showing to visitors excites them. It fills people with possibility at the future. If they only knew …”
“Did you see the hammer?” Conker asked, uncrossing his arms from his chest.
Marisol and Redfeather looked at each other before answering. Then Redfeather said, “The Nine Pound Hammer’s there, Conker. It’s on display at the center of everything.”
“Like some trophy.” Marisol scowled.
“Big crowds around it too,” Redfeather said. “We had to push our way to the barrier just to read the display. It tells a
story, the one most people have heard, about your father taking on a steam drill in a competition. About how he beat it and then died.” He blinked hard before continuing, “But then it goes on to say, ‘No more will slaves and laborers have to die to build our industry. The dawn of great progress, the end to suffering, the birth of wondrous machines has arrived.’ It’s like a rallying cry.”
“But it’s a lie!” Marisol’s face grew red. “We saw those workers in Omphalosa. The Gog does not mean to end slavery. It’s a secret enslavement he’s starting. Those workers—poor Gigi’s family and the others—they’re nothing more than machines themselves now.”
“What’s happened to them?” Si asked. “If the Gog brought them all from Kansas, then where are they?”
Marisol’s nostrils flared as she took deep breaths to calm herself. “I don’t know.”
“But we saw those people,” Redfeather reminded her.
“What people?” Si asked.
“I saw this husband and wife,” Marisol said. “Their skin, it was ashen like the way the workers in Omphalosa looked. But this couple, they weren’t workers. They were dressed in nice clothes, not fancy but nice. I pointed them out to Redfeather and we watched them walk around the exhibit floor for a while. They never stopped to look at anything. They never spoke to each other.”
“They just kept walking,” Redfeather said, “like they were drawn to something.”
“We followed them to a corridor at the far end of the hall.” Marisol’s eyes were wide. “There weren’t any displays there.
None of the visitors wandered back there. It seemed like a service area or some such. And down the hall, a pair of agents were waiting before a stairwell. They stepped aside with not so much as a word, and the couple disappeared down the steps.”