Chapter 2

The seven o’clock whistle blew through the station as Levi Wyman and Hank Matthews flew through the front door of the Meadowshire Gate Terminal. Levi’s tie fluttered about his ruddy face as he jogged forward, one hand on his hat, shooting a venomous glare at Hank. The trainee didn’t miss the expression.

“I told you, Boss, there was an accident on the road,” Hank said between puffing breaths. “There was nothing I could do.”

“A fruit wagon.”

“Yes, a fruit wagon. Why is that so hard to understand?”

“I don’t know,” Levi said, glaring at Hank again. “Am I to understand that a pile of bananas made you a half-hour late?”

Hank and Levi slowed to a brisk walk as they made their way further into the Terminal. The sun had only been up for a short time and yet the building complex was already humming with activity. Hundreds of people moved about in a generally hurried manner, intent on doing their tasks as quickly as possible. Some queued up in front of the main desk, asking for tickets or checking a gate schedule, while others watched for friends or relatives recently arrived. A number of individuals made their way to the roof and the waiting airship shuttles to take them to their respective destinations and some checked their cargo and proceeded to move their loads to the larger bay doors in the back.

Levi hated admitting it, but he liked the hustle and bustle of a Gate Terminal, which was like no other. At the moment, however, Levi wasn’t paying too much attention to the crowd. He tried his best to weave through it while both attempting to straighten his hat, coat, and tie and give Hank as many meaningful looks as possible. The looks didn’t seem to have the desired effect.

“Yes, actually. Like I said, a motor-wagon dragging a load of fresh vegetables got its side smashed in by the trolley I was on. Now I’m not sure who started the little tussle, but all I know is that the trolley popped off its track and I was stuck hoofing it to the office. You saw on the way over, the East Seven line wasn’t running. It shares some track with the North Two. It wasn’t my fault.”

“Matthews, you’re going to have to realize that an employer doesn’t really want to hear ‘It wasn’t my fault’. I really don’t care if you have problems on your own time. I don’t care if you hired the wagon to pull out in front of the trolley. But when you’re not doing what you were hired to be doing, I start to care. You were supposed to be at the office at six-thirty so we could be down here in time. You’re lucky you caught up with me outside or I would’ve left you here. Well, fired you and left you here.”

Levi’s voice had been getting progressively louder as he spoke and the sudden decrease in sound around him drew his attention. Looking about, he realized that everyone in the general area was looking his way, some more discreetly than others. Settling himself, he took a deep breath and straightened his coat for the hundredth time.

“Alright, you’re here now and that’s what matters. Let’s go. You have the sign?”

“Sure thing, Boss. I hope they like it, I put a lot of work into this thing,” Hank said, pulling a piece of paper from an inside coat pocket. Unfolding it, he held it out before him and proceeded forward, randomly pointing it at people as he went. The names “Abigail Graner” and “Quincy Boone” were scratched upon the paper in a barely legible handwriting. Levi simply rolled his eyes; it was too late to do anything about it.

They soon found themselves standing in front of Gate 22, its roped-off and guarded access prohibiting them from moving forward. The massive World Engine loomed up out of the floor fifty feet to the arched ceiling and then kept going. With a million moving parts, from whirling gears and belts to hissing pressure valves, pumping pistons, and the two enormous, spoked flywheels that flanked the entire engine and swung down through the floor, the machines were truly sights to behold. They were, quite literally, the engines that drove the modern world. Ever since their serendipitous invention a few generations ago, they had revolutionized science, technology, and travel in ways that were completely unforeseen.

Levi liked to imagine the feelings of the first people who walked into the narrow metal box that comprised the prototype transference chamber. They had no way of knowing what would happen to them when their compatriots outside threw the switch. They knew, of course, of the previous test successes of Dr. Marquering and his ugly dog Gertrude and understood the science as well as anyone living. And yet Levi still wondered if they were afraid. He listened to the clanging, banging, and whistling generated by today’s state-of-the-art, high-efficiency, low-noise engines and could only imagine how terribly loud it must have been. Not to mention the fact that the chamber supposedly shook so much it almost came apart. And yet they went in anyway. Levi admired their courage.

His musings, however, were short lived as Hank poked him in the shoulder. “You know, I don’t think we’re really all that late. The seven o’clock hasn’t come in yet.”

“What do you mean; it’s already seven-fifteen. Surely its come by now. We must have missed –”

His words were suddenly cut off by the loud, piercing screech of a whistle over the Gate 22 door. Lights lit up all throughout the engine and the door started to quiver slightly as the flywheels started spinning. A number of sparks fell from the higher parts of the machine while electricity arched between electrodes and even small gouts of flame issued from an exhaust port. To the unknowledgeable, it would appear as though the machine was about to rip itself right out of reality. Smiling slightly, Levi then realized that, in a sense, that’s what the engine was actually doing.

The commotion died down in a moment and everything started shutting off as the flywheels came to a stop. A green light blinked to life as the door creaked and started to slowly open. A light, blue dust wafted from the hinges and slowly settled upon the ground as the door locked into its fully open position and Levi got his first look into the transference chamber.

It was like most other passenger chambers he had seen, it both aesthetics and functionality. Rows of chairs filled three quarters of the chamber, providing the passengers with somewhere to sit during the five to ten-minute trip. Against one wall was a rack on which the individuals were permitted to place their suitcases, bags, and the like. The room was lit well enough by a small generator in the back of the chamber and the floor, walls and ceiling were artfully carpeted to both deaden noise and provide additional comfort. All in all, it wasn’t a terrible way to move from one world to the next.

Levi’s eyes scanned the crowd as they slowly made their way out of the chamber and over through the security checkpoint. To him, they all seemed a little bored with the whole process, which still amazed him after all these years. Sure, his generation had been born well after the invention and implementation of the world engines but he didn’t see how people could take it for granted. The contraption ripped through the very fabric of reality and allowed people, who had been so long trapped on Key, or Earth as is was still occasionally called, to spill out onto numerous other worlds and they had become all the better for it. But then, perhaps he was a little biased.

Shaking his head, he looked over at Hank. “Hold the sign up. We don’t want to miss them.” Hank mumbled something under his breath and complied.

A few moments later, just as Levi was starting to get worried, a short, attractive woman waved at them and made her way over. She had shoulder-length, curly brown hair, large eyes and a build that said dainty yet capable.

“Excuse me, gentlemen, but I’m Abigail Graner,” she said with a slight German accent, an apprehensive smile upon her face.

“Hello, ma’am, I’m Levi Wyman and this is Hank Matthews. We are from Hannan security and we will be escorting you to North Mine.”

“Pleasure, miss,” Hank said, nodding his head. “Can I take your bag?”

“Yes, thank you. So you’ll be traveling with us, then. Very well, just a moment,” she said, her smile warming a degree. She turned and seemed to scan the crowd for a moment before perking up and waving her hand about her head. “Mr. Boone? Mr. Boone?” she loudly called across the busy concourse.

A tall, lanky man with a neatly trimmed grey beard, a wide-brimmed hat and a well-worn olive greatcoat distinguished himself from the crowd by waving back, and then quickly hauled himself and his considerable luggage, cart and all, over to the rest of the party.

“Now Ms. Graner, I told you not to go wanderin’ off like that. How’s a man like me supposed to make it in such a big world without a fine young woman at my side? Gentlemen,” the man said, tipping his hat to Levi and Hank in turn. “I thank you for finding Ms. Graner for me.”

“Mr. Boone, these –“

“I told you to call me Quincy, dear. Callin’ me ‘mister’ makes me sound old.”

“Very well. Quincy, these are the men that Hannan sent to see us to North Mine.”

“Ah, well that changes things. Gentlemen, my name is Quincy Boone and you won’t hurt my feelings if you say you’ve never heard of me. I’ll understand.”

Levi smiled. “I’m Levi Wyman and this is Hank Matthews.”

“Hello,” Hank said, nodding his head respectfully once more.

“If you don’t mind,” Levi continued, “Hank will take your things out and we can sit down and go over the scheduled trip.”

“Sounds good to me,” Quincy said in response. “Lead the way; I’ve never been to the Reach before. Here you are, boy. Careful, though, some of this stuff is fragile.”

Hank grabbed the handle of the luggage cart and gave a pull. The cart barely moved. “Good grief, what do you have in these bags, bricks?”

Quincy simply chuckled. “Fragile and heavy. Have fun.”

The remainder of the party made their way over to a small seating area off to the side of the concourse while Hank attempted to wrestle the luggage out the front doors. Pulling out Abigail’s seat for her garnered Levi a curious glance, but she accepted the gesture and quietly sat. The two men sat down a moment later.

“Okay, let’s get down to business.”

Levi reached into a coat pocket and produced a large, precisely folded piece of paper. As he carefully opened it across the table, it divulged its contents: a map of Franklin Reach. It was one of the most accurate and complete maps of the world in existence, spanning the entirety of Man’s exploration of the area. Every possible feature of the landscape had been noted, from small tree copses to the mighty Abascal bushes. Meadowshire stood out prominently at the map’s center, displaying the general layout of the city as well as its proximity to all the other cities, including Cairn City to the southwest and, far to the north, just barely making it on the paper, North Mine. Levi’s finger tracked a line from Meadowshire up to North Mine.

“We’re currently in Meadowshire, in case you weren’t aware. And way up here is where you’re going.”

“There doesn’t seem to be much between here and there,” Abigail said, eyes soaking in the map.

“No, there isn’t much. The railroad doesn’t even run that far north yet. That’s why we’ll be moving up to Walton Harbor – which is here – and boarding an airship for the remainder of the trip. There just happens to be a ship, The Tipper, taking some workers up to the end of the railroad track and continuing on up to North Mine. We’ll be riding along with them.”

“So how are we gettin’ up to this Walton Harbor, then? Looks to be out of the range of the smaller bags,” Quincy said, nodding his head toward the small blimps on the roof.

“The only reliable way to get to up to Walton is by train and that’s how we’re going. There’s a wagon waiting outside to take us to the station.”

Hank appeared from the bustling crowd and made his way over to the table. He seemed a little out of breath but otherwise undamaged.

“Okay, we got all of your stuff loaded up. It took some doing and the poor wagon’s probably going to drag by the time we get up in it, but it’s done.” He glanced at Levi and then at the others. “Umm…so what does everyone say to a little breakfast? That bakery over there just opened shop and it smells delicious.”

Levi frowned, more at himself than Hank. He wasn’t much of a breakfast eater and, as such, hadn’t thought to offer it to the others. As if to make amends, he stood and looked questioningly at the others. “That sounds like a good idea. What does everyone want? Go ahead, sit down, I’ll take care of it.”

He logged their orders away in memory, paused for just a moment to make sure he remembered perfectly, than casually made his way over to the bakery. Just as Hank had said, the bakery smelled wonderful. The baker, obviously knowing the power smell had over his customers, had a small fan blowing directly past the ovens and into the concourse. It was somewhat conniving, but Levi had to give the man credit, he knew how to work with what he was given.

He placed his order and in virtually no time at all, Levi found himself juggling a box full of bread, pastries, some biscuits, three cups of coffee and one tea, for Quincy. He quickly and efficiently distributed the food to their respective owners, smiling as he did. Sure, it wasn’t quite as glamorous as O’Doyle’s harrowing pirate battle, but it was still field work. It felt nice to be out of the office doing something other than listening to people complain and crunching numbers all day. He was really looking forward to starting this trip.

“So, Mr. Wyman,” Quincy started, while munching on a Danish, “how did you and your friend Mr. Matthews get wrangled into tagging along with us?”

“Yes, I was also a little curious about that. Why did Hannan think we needed a security team?” Abigail took another sip of her coffee and looked at Levi, patiently waiting an answer.

“Well,” he said, “a man from North Mine stopped by the office and asked if we’d provide an escort. I’m Chief of the Distributions Department and –”

“You’re the Chief? Well good gracious, boy, why didn’t you send some of your lackeys? No offense, Hank.”

Levi shrugged and took a drink. “I wanted to come along. You know, get out of the office for a little while. And to ease your concern, Ms. Graner, we’re more guides than security forces. The Hannan Corporation simply wants to make sure that your transition to North Mine goes smoothly.”

“So there is little to worry about, then,” she asked, almost challengingly. “I hear that your Franklin Reach is quickly becoming a haven for thieves, pirates, and other ne’er-do-wells.”

“The crime rate in the Reach is on par with what’s been experienced on most other worlds when they’re first colonized. You have to remember, this place was only officially settled fourteen years ago. It’s still going through its growing pains.”

“But I heard of a major battle just recently with pirates in the south. Surely full aerial engagements are not the norm for newer worlds.”

“Oh, Abigail, leave the man alone,” Quincy said as he dug through the box for another pastry. “The man’s near the top of the food chain as far as security goes. He probably knows more ‘bout it than you, yes?”

Abigail simply shrugged in way of surrender and looked back to her coffee. Silently, Levi thanked Quincy for his intercession. Though it was true that the media often exaggerated the crimes in the Reach, the world was far from completely harmonious. He had noticed a mild yet steady rise in criminal activity since the end of the war and, though piracy wasn’t currently much of a problem despite a few exceptions, walking on the streets wasn’t as safe as it should be. It bothered him, but he didn’t exactly want to discuss it with a new member of the Reach community.

Instead, he proceeded to pack up his map and gather up the trash from the impromptu breakfast. The not-so-subtle hint was taken and the others started to gather their things as well. In short order, the small group was ready to set off.

“Shall we? Hank, lead the way, please.”

“Right, Boss. Everyone follow me.”

A few moments later they exited the Meadowshire Gate Terminal and stepped out onto the sidewalk of Washington Street, the largest, busiest road in Meadowshire. All manner of vehicles moved up and down the road, from horse-drawn carriages to motor-wagons and electric trolleys, while more people still plied to and fro down the wide sidewalks. The noise was the most striking feature. While the Terminal was filled with mechanical noises, the streets were full of something decidedly more human in nature, with only the occasional trolley whistle or steam engine. It wasn’t as impressive as any of the cities of Key or some of the larger worlds, but for Meadowshire at eight o’clock on a Tuesday, it was fairly remarkable.

Levi turned to the rest of the group as they neared the waiting motor-wagon, which the driver cranked up at their approach. “Ms. Graner, Mr. Boone, after you.” He opened the door, lowered the little step, and helped his two wards into the wagon. In after them went Hank. Giving a nod to the driver, Levi jumped in and took the last seat for himself. “Our next stop: the train station.”