Chapter 16

“Capt’n, this here’s Levi Wyman and his friends,” Barnabas said as the captain of the Barracuda presented himself.

“Ah, Mr. Wyman, it’s a pleasure.”  They shook hands briefly.  “And welcome to you all.  When we saw that smoke, we weren’t sure what to expect down there.  But we had heard of your ship’s downing, of course, and hoped for the best.  It’s fantastic to see you all well.”

“We’re very grateful, Captain.  We weren’t doing too well in the ‘rustic survivor’ department; don’t know how much longer we could’ve kept on.”

“You seemed to be doing well enough for yourself.  You’re what, four days’ walk from the crash site?  If you’d like, the ship’s physician would be more than glad to look over each of you.  Is your leg alright?”

“Yes, sir, my leg is fine and we appreciate that.”

“Now how long before we get to fly this behemoth over to teach those pirates a lesson,” Simon asked, leaning forward.

“Excuse me,” the captain replied, seemingly confused.

“This is a bloody warship, is it not?  And there happens to be a pirate base over there in that bush.  Just seems to make sense, yeah?”

“What my friend is trying to say,” Levi said, mentally urging Simon to stay quiet, “is that a number of people were taken from the Iron Dove before the pirates scuttled her.  We had actually been making our way there to see if we could get them out.”

“You were planning to… assault a pirate base on foot?”  The captain seemed almost amused.

“Yes, actually,” Levi said, standing up a little straighter than before.  “They are friends and, at the time, we didn’t have much of anything else to be doing.  But you’re here now will a fully equipped and manned destroyer airship.  We’d like your help in rescuing our friends.”

The captain actually laughed.

“There’s simply no way we can do that,” the captain said after he settled down.  “We’re on simple patrol to check the safety of the northern air routes.  We’ll be in this circuit for at least a month until Hannan fully determines the safety of the region.”

“And we’re telling you that there’s a den of pirates just a short flight away,” Simon said, obviously a little perturbed.  “What were you supposed to do if you actually encountered any pirates, run away?  No, you were going to fight them.  So what’s the difference in attacking besides who starts it?  They’re over there and they’re a danger.  They scuttled my bloody ship, for crying out loud!”

“I’m sorry about your loss, captain, and I’m even sorrier about your friends.  But we’re simply not authorized to go attacking supposed enemy strongholds.  We will, however, wire your suggestion that this area be searched for piracy to the Colonial Guard.  I’m sure you’ll handle your concerns in time.”

“It’s the ‘in time’ part that we’re most concerned with here, captain,” Levi said, trying to maintain his composure.  It was harder than he would’ve liked to admit.  “One of those men is Quincy Boone, a man who is under the direct protection of the Hannan Corporation.  Another is Hank Matthews, a Hannan Security employee.  And I am manager of Personnel Distributions for this region.  What I’m suggesting here, captain, is that you ‘distribute’ yourselves over in the direction of that bush.  If you stumble upon pirates would simply be a coincidence.”

For the second time, the captain laughed and Levi almost punched him.

“Unfortunately, you won’t be pulling rank here, Mr. Wyman.  I take my orders from Air Services, not Security,” the captain said with a smug smile.  Levi winced slightly.  He had always hated that little caveat in the hierarchy of the company.  “We are, however, still heading to North Mine like you were to be doing in the first place.  We will deposit you there and then you can do what you please.”

“But that’ll beach us in North for a good week, and that’s if flights haven’t been affected by the recent pirate activity.”

“Which they have,” Barnabas suddenly chipped in.

“Is there nothing that you can do for us, captain,” Abigail said in a voice that Levi didn’t quite recognize.  Was she trying to use some sort of sex appeal or something?  Unfortunately, the captain must have been married.

“No, miss, I’m sorry.  We’re just not equipped for that sort of thing.

“I see.”  She didn’t sound overly disappointed, but then Levi and Simon had learned that her actual tone generally meant little as to her actual thoughts; which was troublesome most of the time.

“Then just give us a runner and a few of your men,” Levi said pleadingly.  “Linger here for one day, that’s all.  If we come back, then great.  If we don’t, you fly off and you’re just down a ship and some crew members.”

“I wouldn’t simply throw my men away like that, Mr. Wyman.  Shame on you.”

“And yet that’s what you’re asking Simon here to do.  It was his crew that was taken and now you’re effectively telling him to abandon them.”

“The situation is different and you know that.  His men are already captured while mine are yet to be.  Don’t try to guilt me into things, I feel terrible enough as it is.  But there’s simply nothing I can do.”

“But there must be…”

“Nothing I can do.”  The captain stood there a moment, staring at the three as if to make sure his message had finally sunken in.  “Now then, you’re welcome to stay in the guest chambers down below.  My men will show you were they are.  Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m sure you’re very tired from your endeavors and I have a ship to run.”

The captain then nodded his head and wandered off.  The three looked at one another, various emotions playing across their faces.  Barnabas casually cleared his throat and patted Levi on the shoulder.

“I’m sorry ‘bout that.  Sounds like a fine idea to me.  Maybe we can figure out somethin’ when we get to North, yeah?”

“Yeah, maybe.  Thanks, Barnabas.”

After getting himself cleaned up and allowing the ship’s doctor to clean and dress his leg – it felt strange having someone other than Abigail fiddle with it – Levi spent the majority of the rest of the day in his cabin alone.  He sat upon his modest bed, his head resting in his hands, as he tried to think of some way out of all of this.  He wasn’t having much luck.  So instead, his mind wandered.

He remembered when he first took the position of Personnel Distributions Manager.  It had been years since he had last seen the expanses of Franklin Reach but his childhood memories still stood out in his mind.  He was pretty sure that was why he had taken the job, in the end.

He had just returned from the war and was looking for a way to put that frightful event behind him.  A short stent on his father’s farm, which was still running strong, quickly told him that such a life simply didn’t hold anything for him anymore.  When he was a child, he had wanted to be just like his dad.  He wanted to drive around in the new tractor; plowing up the earth and making things grow out of it.  But after the war, there was something so… small about all of it.  His mind wandered beyond imagining, and generally to places he didn’t want it to go.  He knew that he needed a new start, somewhere fresh and inviting.  He couldn’t think of any place better than Franklin Reach.

It had, back then, been touted as the epitome of freedom.  Here, the promotional banners read, was a world ripe for the taking, so to speak, with boundless opportunity.  In a sense, it was the New New World.  And so Levi had quickly, quietly, packed his things, said goodbye to his parents, and boarded the train that would take him to his new life.

It had been more luck than foresight that finally brought him to the office of Emma Washington.  Back when Levi was still a teenager, he had spent a summer – at his father’s request – working for what was then a small prospecting company.  “It’ll be good for you, help you develop some character,” his father had said.  A friend of the family had pointed the job opportunity out, initially, and his father had jumped at the idea.  After a series of communication, Levi got the job and was put under the command, so to speak, of one Mrs. Emma Washington.

Emma Washington, even then, seemed like a ridiculously old woman in both appearance and manners.  She was also the manager of her late husband’s company, which was being employed by an upstart corporation by the name of Hannan to survey the Reach.  It was with Mrs. Washington that he had helped discover the North Mine site and had learned almost everything he knew about the Reach.  So when he had dragged himself into a building labeled simply “Prospecting” by bright white paint on the brick wall, it was a pleasant surprise to see her sitting behind the desk.

When he had explained his plight, Emma had simply nodded.  She had said that he could work for her again, of course, but he didn’t want that.  He wasn’t sure exactly why he didn’t want that, but you rarely argued with Mrs. Emma Washington.  Instead, she said that he should work for the Hannan Corporation.  He was surprised to learn that it had swelled to gigantic proportions during the war and it was the big name in Franklin Reach.  Luckily, she said, she had a few strings that she could pull.

Levi had expected to work as a cargo handler or a security guard, so he was marginally taken aback when he received a call asking him to take a management position.  Apparently Emma had pulled some rather large strings, indeed.  He went in to the interview dressed as best he could manage, strangely nervous, as a little man in a full suit asked him a bunch of odd questions.  The interview had been short, relatively speaking, and the little man had shaken his hand and told him that he would be hearing from the within a week.

Exactly a week later, almost to the minute, he got a phone call from Hannan: he had the job.  With a certain amount of excitement, he had practically hopped into the office the first day in a brand new suit.  The little man had greeted him at the door, shaking his hand yet again.

“Congratulations, Mr. Wyman.  Here at Hannan, you’ll really be able to make a difference.”

Levi suddenly laughed, retreating from his memories.  It was a dark laugh, if such a thing was possible, devoid of even the slightest humor.  Some difference he had been able to make; one of his wards and a fellow employee were stranded in a gigantic bush, held by pirates against their will, while he floated along in an airship to a mine.  It was almost comical if it wasn’t so depressing.

Knowing that he would find no sleep for a while, he slowly pulled himself up onto the deck.  He didn’t know what would happen if he ran into the captain again, so he silently prayed that wouldn’t transpire as he stepped through the portal into the clear night air.  The nights of Franklin Reach had always been a particular favorite of Levi’s and even in the situation in which he found himself, he still appreciated it.  There was something about the dark simplicity of it that calmed him, like looking out at the ocean in the dark.  You knew that it went on forever, which was quietly horrifying, but you couldn’t see it do so, which was comforting.  It was a complicated thing, Levi decided.

“Careful now, we don’t want you falling off,” Simon suddenly said from behind him.  “How would that look in the newspaper?  ‘Famous Hannan Man Falls from Ship’?”

“At least it would be enjoyable on the way down,” Levi replied gloomily, to which Simon chuckled.

“I know what you mean.”

They stood a time in silence, simply looking out into nothing.  The ship they stood upon – which was actually called the Mongoose of all things – was relatively silent; an innovation that most new warships employed.  The feeling of complete helplessness, even on that devastatingly powerful ship, was impossible to push aside.  Simon obviously felt it, too, as he suddenly slammed his fist into the railing.

“This is bollocks, you know that?  I mean, I didn’t even want to go charging into that place like we were going to, that was all you.  But after trekking across that bloody grass and you with your little caveman axes… It’s just not fair.”

“Like Barnabas said, maybe we’ll figure out something once we get to North Mine.  We’ll be there tomorrow, after all.  This is only a short diversion.  We’ll get some plan together, one better than charging in on foot without support, and get everyone out.”

“Right.  And maybe the pirates will just let them go.”

“What choice do we have,” Abigail said from behind them.

“Well hello, love.  Couldn’t sleep, either?”

“Your whining was keeping me up,” she said, though in a gentle tone.

“Sorry, princess, but I don’t take a defeat like this sitting down.  Maybe we could take the ship by force?  Stranger things have happened.”

“Yeah, that would be great,” Levi said.  “I mean, the entire soldier brigade stationed in the ship may be a little bit of an obstacle but I’m sure you could pull it off.  Just tell them it isn’t their concern, maybe they won’t notice.”

“Hey, you were the one having up tromp through the Reach hunting snakes.  I’m just looking through alternatives here.”

Abigail slowly reached out her hand and let it rest on Simon’s arm.

“We’ll get your men.”

“Those scallywags can handle themselves.  I just don’t want that dork of a pirate captain to think that he can push Simon Spriggs around.  I don’t go down that easy, after all.”

“Your men are more important to you than you let on, Simon.”  She finally took her hand away.  “I can tell.”

“He’s always had a soft spot for his crewmates,” Levi said with another grin, his mind momentarily forgetting about the outside world.  “We once sat with a private from the army we were transporting…”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“…who had become seriously air-sick,” Levi continued without so much as a pause.  “The soldier had also never flown before, it turned out, and was horribly afraid.  Simon here sat with him for over an hour until the boy calmed down.  It was quite touching.”

Simon, glaring, shook his head slightly before speaking.

“The kid was horrified, sure, but I just told him to suck it up.  There was no ‘sitting for over an hour’ or any of that stuff.  Just a cruel story they made up, that’s all.”

“Well I think it’s sweet,” Abigail said, smiling.  “But, gentlemen, I’m going to bed.  It’s too cold out here to stand for long.  Goodnight.”

The men said their goodnights before returning to their previous positions, leaning on the railing and looking out into the dark.

“So there you go, Simon.  She thinks you’re cute.”

“What?”

“Abigail.  You’re cute, now.  You wanted her to like you, right?  Well, you’re welcome.”

“Heh, I suppose that’s true.  Thanks, brother.”

“Any time.”

For the majority of the night, they two men stood in silence, each one of them thinking about their current place in the world and how they could change it.  Finally, though, the glow of the sun started to appear off on the horizon and Levi was having trouble holding his head up.  With a pat to Simon’s shoulder, he finally, at long last, went to bed and was able to sleep; blessedly without dreams.

After two uneventful days of eating, resting, and healing up aboard the Mongoose, the captain finally informed the ship’s inhabitants that they would be coming into the North Mine docks shortly. With a strange sense of growing apprehension, Levi moved up to the dock where he found Abigail and Simon already looking off into the distance.  He joined them, silently watching the massive North Bush looming up before them like a colossus.  It was always an impressive sight when you came up close to one of Abascal’s famous bushes and Levi remembered belatedly that this was the first time Abigail had seen one.

“So what do you think,” he asked.

“It’s… breathtaking.  It’s just so large and…”

“That was my reaction the first time, too,” Simon said, nodding.  “They’re rather hard to describe, huh?”

“Definitely,” Abigail replied, nodding.  “It’s just amazing that such things exist.”

As the ship continued to glide on, the tiny city that was North Mine came into view.  As far as mines went, North Mine was easily one of the biggest, rivaled only by Rice Beach far to the south.  Like other large mines back on Key, North Mine had quickly gathered around itself a community of secondary businesses, shops, and homes that made it more than a simple refinery plant.  Though only the more commercial and residential portions of the town were visible, Levi knew that the more industrial parts snaked their way deep into the bush, each connected to the main town by a large rail and road system.  To Levi, it had always reminded him of fingers spreading out from a hand.

It had grown quite a bit since his last visit, though.  In truth, he recognized little except for the massive refining plant and the docks, with the latter having been expanded greatly to meet increased demand.  But it was as much a fort town as he had heard, though.  Some sections of the town actually had walls around them – for what purpose he wasn’t sure – and the mighty anti-air guns sat in nests all around the perimeter and even within the town proper.  A number of smaller airships moved back and forth between buildings, though the majority of ships in the air were battle barges, meant to screen the area from any possible aerial attacks.  All in all, it was protected quite well.

“You weren’t kidding about this place’s security, huh,” Simon said, whistling.  “This is even worse than when I was here a few months ago.  They must’ve got word about all of the pirate nonsense down south.”

“Looks that way, yeah.  Well, Abigail, what do you think of your new home?”

“I must say, it’s impressive.  But is it as militaristic as it appears?”

“Surprisingly, no,” Levi said, nodding his head.  “They are all ships of the Air Services and Security departments of Hannan and have very little bearing on town politics, as it were.  Did you know that this place even has its own mayor?  This place will be a big city in the next couple years, I think.”

“If it’s as important a place as you say, then I can imagine that to be so.  Is that the hospital,” she asked, pointing to a large brick building.

“Aye, that’s the general hospital for the town’s inhabitants.  There’s also a smaller field hospital of sorts deeper in the bush.  Do you know where you’re going to be stationed?”

“I’m not sure, no.”

“Ah, well we’ll get you set up with the local personnel manager.  He’s a nice guy, if a little impersonal.  They probably have you set up with an apartment somewhere.  They’re generally rather considerate like that.”

“Yes,” said mumbled, distractedly.  “I’m sure it will be fine.”

The ship settled down into the oddly busy dock.  Few long-range ships came up to North Mine; instead it relied mainly on smaller ships to ferry things back and forth within the town.  Levi was rather impressed, then, by the volume of small craft that the town seemed to have accumulated.  He wondered if Cairn City had this many airships.

True to his word, Levi’s first stop was at the Hannan Personnel offices there in the town.  He had a short discussion with the nasally manager – including a brief explanation of why he was rather late and short a person – and managed to learn that Abigail would be working in the general hospital, as well as the location of the apartment set aside for her.  That was their next stop, as Simon and Levi helped the apartment manager move some of the spare furniture from storage and into the apartment.  It was a nice place, if a little small, but Abigail didn’t seem to mind.  With a sad grin, he had closed the door on them promising she’d find them later.

Levi and Simon, in turn, went across the street to a cheap inn.  They had no money to speak of, but luckily Levi had been able to keep his Hannan identification card through his ordeals and it was good enough to get two tiny rooms.  They were little more than closets with beds crammed in them and they shared a bathroom, but they didn’t mind; navy life had taught them to accept accommodations as they came.

“Hey, do you mind if I borrowed that card for a bit,” Simon asked, popping his head into Simon’s room.

“What for?”

“I’m going to go buy myself some clothes.  Unless you’ve forgotten, we don’t really have any.”

Levi broke out into laughter, falling back into his bed, which felt glorious.  Soon Simon joined him and they simply stood there, laughing.  It was surely an odd sight to anyone that happened to be out in the hall, but they didn’t really care.

“Sure, take it,” Levi said, handing him the card.  “Pick me up something, too.”

“Need anything in particular?”

“Anything but a hat,” Levi said, smiling.  “I still have one of those.”

“Heh, right-o.  Back in a bit.”

Levi grinned again, leaning back onto his bed.  It was far too early in the day to sleep but, once again, he didn’t care.  A nap, he thought, was something he deserved.  And so he napped.

Chapter 15

The snake was a small one by Reach standards.  That being said, it was still about fifteen feet in length from tip to fangs.  It was a strange sickly green in color and, somehow, it made the animal a little difficult to look at it.  The eye just seemed to sort of slip right past it if you weren’t careful.  Levi, however, was being very careful.

The snake lay marginally stretched out down the slight bank toward the aptly named Snake River; there was a reason for that name, after all.  Levi assumed that it was sunning itself or some other snake-like activity he didn’t know about.  It hadn’t moved for almost fifteen minutes but that meant little.  He knew that they were relatively fast thanks to recent experience within the last week.  It was never fun going from the hunter to the hunted but twice now he and Simon had been forced to run away from these snakes.  Unfortunately, they were the only reliable quick source of food that Levi knew was safe to eat.

That had been the major problem they had encountered when their food stock ran empty a few days previously.  There were plenty of plants to be found on the Reach and that number only increased as they grew closer to the river.  Sadly, neither Levi nor Simon had any clue as to whether or not any of it was edible.  They had dared a little experimentation two days ago when Abigail managed to rustle up a few tubers from some sort of plant Levi had never seen before.  After cleaning, skinning, and boiling the things, Simon had been volunteered to try them out.  Levi wasn’t sure if his diarrhea had cleared up yet.

And so they sat approximately fifty yards away on top of a small rise above the river.  The water spread out before them in a properly impressive way; it would look more like a lake if it wasn’t for the fact that it continued on in either direction off into the horizon.  Levi was lying prone on the ground, his leg already starting to throb.  It had been feeling better as the week had progressed and he had even managed to ditch the wooden crutch after a few days.  But it still bothered him to no end and by the end of each day, as the three settled down to sleep, he was completely and utterly exhausted.

Such things were far from his mind at that moment, however.  The barrel of the rifle stretched out from his vision, aiming carefully at the head of the large snake.  He knew – again from experience – that his shot would have to be perfect to fell the beast in a single blow.  The thing had a skull like a bloody steel bucket.  He took a few breaths, steadying himself and he felt the light wind play across his face.  He was going to get it this time, he was sure.

Simon hunched a few yards away, his pistol firmly in hand. After their previous “narrow” escapes – said as such because the snakes weren’t actually deadly, but they would bite you if you weren’t quick – they had learned that the best way to stop a charging snake was to simply shoot at it in quick succession until it got scared and turned away.  It wasted quite a bit of their precious ammo but it spared Levi’s leg and pretty much guaranteed they wouldn’t have a snake bite to tend to.

“Are you going to shoot the thing or what,” Simon whispered without taking his eyes from the creature.

“Shh.”

“Oh come on, the thing isn’t even moving anymore.  Probably died from boredom.”

Levi had discovered early on in their hunts together that Simon possessed the patience of a gnat.  This was an unfortunate trait to possess, as far as Levi was concerned, when hunting creatures that could often swallow you whole.  He had tried to point this out to his friend but to no real avail.  The man simply got agitated if he sat still for more than a few minutes.

“Will you shut up and let me do this?”  He didn’t like talking too much during the hunt, but the snake didn’t really seem to mind all that much, which was a pleasant change of events.

“Only if you do it within the next half decade or so.  Should I just go down there and shoot it myself?  You said the things aren’t poisonous, right?”

“They aren’t poisonous, no.  But their fangs area also a couple inches long and their bloody fast, as you well know.  So by all means, please saunter down there and get yourself bitten.  Not like Abigail’s got enough on her plate anyway.”

“Ah yes, your little German girlfriend.  Can’t forget to bring her up, can we?”

“Bloody hell,” Levi said, turning his head to look at Simon.  “What are you going on about now?”

“Just that all of our conversations turn into ‘Abigail this’ and ‘Abigail that’.”

“She’s my responsibility,” Levi snapped.  “So forgive me for caring a bit.”

“Well, watch out, then, ‘cause I’m thinking about stealing her away from you.”

“By all means, go right… wait, what?”

“She’s got a certain charm to her, you know?  I like that.”

“Uh-huh.  All the power to you, then.  I’m sure you two will have beautiful children, now can we please focus back on the task at hand?  Now…,” Levi paused, looking back down toward the river.  “Where did the snake go?”

“You lost a fifteen-foot-long snake?  That’s a little embarrassing, brother.”

“It’s your fault, now help me find it.”

Begrudgingly, Simon complied and they slowly made their way down to the river in hopes of spotting it.  Neither of them were even marginally good at tracking animals, but the groove the snake left in the sand was even easy enough for them to follow.  The snake had not, in fact, gone very far.  It was lying, unmoving yet again, just a little ways down the bank.  A few minutes later, Levi and Simon had once more positioned themselves in the proper location to take the shot.

“Simon,” Levi said casually.

“Yeah?”

“If you talk within the next five minutes, I will shoot you.”

“Right…”

Luckily Simon didn’t make a sound, which meant that Levi didn’t have to make the difficult decision of where, exactly, to shoot his friend.  Instead, it allowed him to concentrate on the snake’s head once more.  Checking his sights, he inhaled deeply and held it.  With the calm precision of an expert marksman – even though he wasn’t one – Levi squeezed the trigger and let the bullet fly.  With a slight jerk and a disconcerting splattering noise, the snake lulled to its side, decidedly dead.  Simon let out a cheer and Levi smiled as he slowly hauled himself up off the ground.

“Excellent shooting, you sniper you,” Simon said, smiling.  “I couldn’t have done it any better myself.”

“Of course not, that’s why I have the rifle,” Levi replied, slapping his friend on the back.  “Now the only question is how are we going to get the thing back to camp?  It probably weighs quite a bit, wouldn’t you think?”

“Oh, probably.  But that won’t stop two great Hunters like ourselves, will it?”

It took them over an hour and a half to drag and roll the thing back to their little camp a short distance upriver.  Simon had been struck by the brilliant idea of cutting the thing’s head off, which produced a grisly trail as the snake’s stumped head moved back and forth.  It also caused the two men to get blood all over them, which Simon thought only added to the atmosphere.  Levi just thought it made him sticky.

They had been on the riverbank for three whole days, now, and their camp was starting to look a little more like an actual camp rather than three blankets on the grass.  They had a dedicated fire pit and latrine – which was rather far away; it was hard to find a place of privacy on the open plains – and even a lidded hole in which they kept their food.  That last had been Simon’s idea and he was rather proud of it.  They had even managed to erect two small tents out of the blankets and spare brush scavenged from the area.  Levi questioned their usefulness in the case of rain – which they had thankfully not had to deal with – but they were the best that could be done on short notice.

Abigail sat by the fire, poking it idly with a stick as they crested the small rise.  Standing, she simply watched them as they came, hands on her hips.  Levi couldn’t help but compare the pose to that of a mother watching her two children coming in from playing in the mud.  As if to mirror his thoughts, Simon raised his hand and waved.

“Hello, mother.  Look what we’ve found!”

A slight smile played across Abigail’s lips.

“That’s very good, boys, very good.  Bring that up here and maybe we’ll actually get a decent meal today.  How does that sound?”

It took longer than Levi would have liked to skin and prepare the snake and even longer to cook the thing.  It had taken the two men longer than they normally would have admitted to secure food.  As such, they had almost completely exhausted their previous stores, including a small bird of some kind and a few wild carrots.  But now they had enough food to actually last a few days and they could focus on their next order of business: the building of a raft.

“We still don’t have any way to cut or lash the reeds,” Simon pointed out when Levi brought up the subject.  “We’re going to need this thing to work for quite a while so it can’t be a pile of junk.  We’re looking at another week, in the least, I think.  Rope-making alone will take a few days.”

“If we just lashed a bundle together and floated along behind it that could cut out some of the time.”

“I’d not going to go dangling myself in that river for an entire day which, I will remind you, is about how long the trip is going to take.  Maybe longer.”

“Oh, come on.  It’s not the Amazon.  There’s isn’t anything that’s going to just swim up and eat you or anything.  The most dangerous thing would probably be the current and as long as we stay relatively close to the banks, we’ll be fine there too.”

“Unfortunate as it is to admit, I believe I agree with Simon,” Abigail said.  “We’re going to be on the water for a while and we will get tired if we’re just floating along with some logs.  Also, we have equipment to take with us and no effective way to waterproof it.  A full-fledged raft is much more logical.”

“I just… I don’t want to leave them there for longer than they have to.”

The three of them each lowered their head slightly, slipping back into reality.  It was easy out here on the plains, struggling for food, roughing it in tents, to forget why they were in that situation in the first place.  It was easy to forget what they were trying to do.  Levi had vowed early on not to let himself do that.

“Be that as it may,” Simon said in a more consolatory tone, “I think the raft is the best bet.  If need be, it may even be used as a means of escape.  Doesn’t the river also run down past that research station?”

“It does, yeah.  But that would be a rather long trip.  Maybe a week, if the currents are good.  And given the way we catch food,” Levi said with a smile, trying to lighten the mood a little, “we wouldn’t make it three days.”

“Nonsense.  We are the Great Hunters of Franklin Reach, Conquerors of the Beast!”  Simon stood up, his chest swelling.  “There exists no creature upon this world that we cannot slay… given enough time, preparation, and equipment.”

Abigail and Levi chuckled at that.

“You may not be the best, but you’re better than me,” Abigail said, grinning.  “We’d have starved a week ago if it wasn’t for you.”

“What are you talking about, love?  You’re the one who finds all the interesting veggies.”  Simon rubbed his stomach at the memory.  “Some have been better than others, granted, but still.”

“Let’s call it a collective effort, shall we,” Levi asked.

“Sounds good,” Simon nodded.

For the remainder of that day, they simply sat around the fire and talked about nothing in particular.  Nobody wanted to approach the topic of actual construction methods for the raft again because it was a hard subject.  Simon’s saber and a knife Abigail had found were well enough for preparing food but they weren’t going to do much against the tree-like reeds.  This was only the first of many problems, though.  Simon optimistically put the cast-off date at a week away but Levi was sure it would be closer to two.  He tried not to think about what Quincy, Hank, and the other men were going through.

 

ge

 

“I really don’t think this is going to work,” Simon said.  “I mean, I thought we had advanced past this sort of thing by now.”

“Just shut up and chop, will you?  They’re not likely to fall down by you yelling at them.”  Levi shook his head and whipped the sweat from his brow.

“Boys, play nice,” Abigail said as she carefully tore smaller, more realistic reeds into strips.

“Yes, love,” Simon said sardonically.

Simon and Levi continued to swing their axes as the reed’s base.  The idea for the tool had struck Levi two days ago while trying to figure out a way to cut the tree-reeds down.  He had recalled seeing in a museum a sharpened rock tied to a simple shaft of wood and remembered how the tour guide had gone on and on about how advanced and useful the tool was for ancient Men.  Well, he figured if it was good enough for cavemen it would be good enough for them.  Unfortunately, it had taken almost the entire day to figure out how to secure the rock to the stick snuggly.  It seemed like a rather simple procedure, which Simon pointed out ad nauseam, but a little difficult to execute in practice.  He had finally figured it out, though, and made one for Simon, as well.

Levi quickly came to realize that what was efficient and useful for cavemen was something slightly different for them.  The chopping was laboriously slow and tiring work, with the men often requiring breaks after only a few minutes.  The wood was hard to begin with – something else Simon liked to point out in his own defense – but this was compounded by the fact that the rocks occasionally chipped and, in Levi’s case, completely shattered.  He had then needed to spend another couple hours preparing and attaching another rock before work could continue.

So in two days they had managed to cut all of one reed down.  It was a rather underwhelming achievement but there was little they could do about that.  And Levi knew that they would probably have to go hunting again tomorrow or the day after in order to stock up on food.  He decided then that this survivor stuff was rather boring and he had little taste for it.

“Why don’t you all take a break, have some water?”

“Yes, a good idea,” Simon said, panting.  “My arms are about to fall off.”

They gather around over where Abigail sat, continuing to strip reeds.  They passed the water tin back and forth, drinking greedily.  Levi was sore all over, his leg especially, but the surprisingly cool water helped a bit.

“So what do you think my men are doing right now,” Simon asked offhandedly, obviously wanting to spoil the mood even more.

“Honestly?  They’re working in a sap mine.”  Levi took another drink of water.  “It’ll be grueling work but none of them will die from it, probably.  More than likely they’re working 18 hour shifts or something enjoyable like that extracting and refining the fuel.  There’s one good side to this, though.”

“Oh?”

“Yes.  We’ll know where they are, and they should all be there together.”

“That will make our daring little rescue a little more feasible, I suppose,” Simon nodded.  “But I don’t know how long my men would stand for that sort of thing.  I can just see a few of those crazy fellows trying to lead a little rebellion.”

“Let’s hope for their sakes that they don’t,” Levi said gravely.

“Yeah…”

“Do you think they will have Quincy and Hank working there as well,” Abigail asked.

“Hank, definitely.  Quincy, though… he’s rather old for that sort of work.  But he’s a machinist, something that all pirate crews look for desperately.  Ironic as it sounds, he’s probably enjoying himself working on busted up machines all day long.”

That brought a light smile to Abigail’s face.

“Yes, he definitely likes his machines, doesn’t he?”

“Sorry to interrupt, folks, but I thought you may like to know that there’s an airship moving roughly this way,” Simon said rather matter-of-factly.

Turning about, Levi spotted it quickly.  Rather than panic, though, he simply observed.  Roughly surrounded by the giant reeds, they were relatively safe where they were and it was unlikely that they’re camp upriver would be spotted.  Levi glanced over at Simon, who had picked up the scope and was looking off toward the airship.

“What do you see?”

“I see an airship.  Give me a second.”  Simon slowly twisted the device in his hands to bring his target into better focus.  He continued to just stand there for a time before speaking again.  “Well, it’s not a pirate ship.”

“How do you know that,” Levi asked, curious.

“Because it has your company’s symbol plastered all over it and no self-respecting pirate would fly with that,” Simon said, grinning.

“It’s a Hannan ship,” Levi said, standing.

“Definitely.  One of your bigger gunships, by the look.  My but it is intimidating, isn’t it?  Good grief, your company just has too much money.”

“Here, let me take a look.”

Sure enough, it was one of Hannan’s destroyers; probably a Barracuda by the look of it.  They were ships designed to put out as much damage as possible as quickly as possible and they took their job seriously.  The company didn’t really have many of them, but you really didn’t need a bunch unless you wanted to go to war with another country.  Levi assumed that Hannan was stepping up its patrols in the area in order to keep the air route to their precious North Mine secure.  Finally, a stroke of luck.

“Okay, so how do we get its attention,” Simon asked.

“I’d recommend a fire,” Abigail said, finally standing, a sad look upon her face.  “Unfortunately, these reed strips I’ve spent the past few days making would make excellent kindling.”

“Heh, we won’t just throw away your hard work.  But you’re right; a fire is a good idea.”

“Right,” Simon agreed, nodding.

He then walked over to the small fire they kept burning – so they didn’t have to start a new one every day – and stuck a dried branch in it.  After a few seconds, the stick lit and Simon calmly walked over to the nearest reed and leaned the stick against the trunk.  It took a few minutes, but the entire reed was suddenly a giant column of fire, throwing black smoke up into the air.

“Brilliantly done,” Levi said sarcastically, quickly grabbing their stuff to protect it from the falling, flaming ash.  “Let’s just start a forest fire so that they’re sure to see us.  Not like a normal signal fire wouldn’t do.”

“I know, I’m pretty much a genius.  Whoa!”  He had to quickly leap out of the way of a falling chunk of reed.  It slammed into the ground and exploded, throwing sparks into the air.  “Alright, I’m getting out from underneath these the things now.”

The watched the airship anxiously for a time, occasionally looking before them to make sure the fire wasn’t spreading too terribly.  After what seemed like an eternity, Simon finally noticed that the airship had made a course correction and was now heading straight for them.  Relief flooded through Levi as the shadow of the giant ship enveloped him.  Assaulting a pirate base with a raft, had he been serious?  This is what he needed to get the job done.

A short time later, a small runner slipped from the deck and made its way down to the ground.  It, too, was emblazoned with the Hannan seal and was completely covered in a royal blue paint.  Levi would’ve probably marveled more at the thing’s beauty if he wasn’t so tired.  With little hesitation, the runner’s side door slid open and a number of men jumped out.  Startled, Levi blinked and looked again.  Coming his way was a short, stocky man wearing nothing but skin and fur, though he looked a bit cleaner than the last time Levi had seen him.

“Well look at that there,” the man said in his crusty voice.  “If it isn’t Levi Wyman.  You lookin’ a bit lost.”

“Ba… umm… Barnabas?”

“Ah you remember me.  I’m flattered.  And who do we have here?  I’m Barnabas Hennessey, pleased to meet ya.”  He extended his stout hand to Simon and Abigail, who, in turn, introduced themselves.  “Did you folks know that you were missin’?  It’s true, that’s the word down about Meadowshire.”

“Barnabas, I… what are you doing here?”

“Remember how I was sayin’ about takin’ me a vacation down in Cairn?  Well, I done did that.  Been almost two weeks since we last talked, if you’ll recall.  They won’t let me go on vacation forever, you know.  I was headin’ back up to North Mine when I bumped into this little Philly here and they said they’d give me a lift.  Isn’t she a beauty?”

 “She most definitely is.  You have no idea how glad we are to see you.”

“Oh come now,” Barnabas said, his grin widening.  “I can probably guess pretty good.  Now come you on, let’s get you aboard.”

 They quickly gathered up their meager belongings and boarded the comfortably nice runner.  With a slight shudder, the ship lifted off the ground and Levi could feel a weight lifting from his shoulders, as well.  The Iron Dove had been a good ship, a fantastic ship, but in a fight it simply couldn’t compare to the Barracuda they were about to land on.  Here, finally, he would be able to strike back a little instead of simply react.  As the runner started to settle upon the deck of the airship, Levi simply exhaled and placed his hat upon his head.

Sneak Peak: The Squirrel Wars

So here's a little peak into an upcoming project that'll get a little more work-time once Underbush is completed.  Actually, I'll probably work on this a bit before going back to touch that story up.  Sometimes you just have to do that, you know?

Anyway, its full title is Memoirs from the Squirrel Wars and it will follow a "war" that raged for a time between Rabbits, Squirrels, Sparrows, Turtles, and other animals near a small Ohio farm.  It will mainly follow the adventures of Twig and the rest of his comrades of the Cottontail Militia as they struggle against the National Squirrel Army for various reasons.  Yes, it's as awesome as it sounds.

I haven't decided if it will have a serious or playful tone yet, but I just couldn't shake the image of a grizzled, old, war-vet Rabbit hunched over a desk, scratching out the Forward found below.  Don't know if it'll even make it into the story at all, but I was amused so I just went with it.

Expect more of Memoirs from the Squirrel Wars this Christmas!

***

Memoirs from the Squirrel Wars

By Twig

Dedications:

To Milly.  Without you I never would've been able to finish.

Srgt. McFinn, I wouldn't even be here if it wasn't for you.

To my children and their children.  Never forget.

Forward:

"The Squirrel Wars".  Not many Rabbits can say those words nowadays without repressing a little shudder.  They represented a dark time in our history, when destruction ran wild in the land and the future was anything but certain.  But we must also recall that they brought out the indominable spirit that defines us as a species.  When the Sparrows fled and the Turtles boxed themselves in, it was the Rabbits that took the fight to the enemy; that finally won through to victory.  Many years have passed since then, of course, and I often look back on those days very differently than I did in my youth.  It was an adventure, then.  The grandest one of all, in fact.  The Squirrels had brought their unstoppable machine of war to our doorsteps and, like in some fanciful tale of old, it was up to us to stop them in their tracks.  We knew even then that it wasn't going to be easy, of course.  They were the Squirrels, after all: a virtually undefeated race since history began.  They were quick, agile, and possessed a devious cunning that even we Rabbits had to admire.  But we also knew that we could do it, that we could bring down the Beast, so to speak.

What follows is my humble attempt to chronicle the events of that war from beginning to end.  More importantly, though, I want you to know the individuals that played their roles within it, some large and some small.  Because what is a war if not the interactions of various individuals?

Over the years, I have gathered a number of journal entries from my old comrades and others, as well as some of my own, that tell the tales as they happened.  I would not dare presume to change these for they are the echoes of history.  But I will insert my commentary where I feel in necessary for you, the reader, to get the full impact of these events.  I only pray that somehow justice is done to these brave men and women and I don't, instead, tarnish their memory.  For, you see, in my old age I have come to find that memories are more important than an entire bounty of carrots.  They are what reminds us of who we are and there is nothing greater than that.

Chapter 14

The strange oblong machine suddenly whirled to life, spitting sparks about the deck of the ship as it bounced back and forth uncontrolled.  Men yelped and jumped out of its ways, fearful of this small mechanical demon.  It was only a little larger than a pigskin football but it made the noise of a train wreck sound tame by comparison and the volume of fire and sparks that flew from it only increased as it moved further down the ship.

“Blast it, boy, I told you to bolt that thing down,” Quincy cried, watching the device rather helplessly, screaming over the noise.  “This’ll set us at least a day or so back.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.  It’s not like I meant to do it,” Hank said defensively.  “How do we stop it?”

“Just give it a few minutes.  It’ll die down before too long.”

Everyone on deck simply stood there, powerless, watching the things go completely insane.  After about two minutes of this madness, though, the thing suddenly split in two and issued forth something resembling a small firework show before finally falling silent. Taking his time, Quincy walked down the deck and picked up the two halves, obviously struggling under their surprising weight.  He handed one half to Hank, who had come down to help, and the other to one of the Periwinkle men.

“We’re going to need some new bearings for this one and probably a whole new gyro.  Hope you pirate boys can afford it.”

“We’ll make due,” one of the men said, before shaking his head and walking off.

It had been a week since they had first been captured and they had been very efficient with their time.  After Quincy had told Lloyd all about the airship-killing weapon that he had been a part of building, the pirate captain had been all too happy to keep Quincy on board provided he would construct one for him.  They had even allowed Hank to become Quincy’s assistant, which saved him from the more laborious work that had been in store for the remainder of the crew.

Hank had learned the main reason for the taking of captives only a few days ago.  He had been appalled at first, but after consideration he had to admit that it made a certain amount of sense.  It was, it seemed, rather difficult for a pirate crew to roll into a harbor and stock up on refined sap.  As such, they were generally forced to refine their own.  Therefore, locating their bases in bushes served a dual purpose.  Not only did it provide them physical cover but it also provided them access to Abascal sap.  The crew members that had been taken from the Iron Dove joined others like them in working a small, makeshift mine and refinery right there in the bush.  They were reduced to little more than slaves, working virtually nonstop to produce as much fuel as possible.  The airships didn’t fly off of happy thoughts, Lloyd had pointed out.

Hank, however, was spared from this.  Instead, he spent most of his time on the dubiously name Quicksilver, a hulking cargo ship that the pirates had stolen from some poor soul or another.  It had been chosen – by Quincy – because of its large cargo hold, which the machinist insisted was needed to properly house all of the weapon’s complex machinery.  Lloyd had been more than happy to give the ship to Quincy, as well as a small crew to do with as he pleased.  Amused, the old man had asked if he was actually allowed to take it flying.  “Of course,” Lloyd had said, more than a little too trusting.  “You’ll have to test it some way, right?”

Despite his seemingly trusting words, Hank knew that a few of the members of the crew reported to the captain daily, no doubt telling him about the progress on the gun.  Hank, of course, knew that they weren’t actually building the weapon and he wondered how long they could keep up the charade.  He wasn’t sure, however, about what they were actually building and Quincy refused to tell him.  Whenever he asked, the old man simply chuckled and told him that he would see soon enough.

“Could you hand me that spanner, my boy,” Quincy asked, his head down into the already surprisingly large machine sitting in the Quicksilver’s cargo hold.  So far, Quincy had simply been cobbling together a variety of common place machines.  He said this was because he knew the pirates would have them on hand so he had started on them first.  The others parts were “on order”, as he put it, as they waited for the pirates to steal them from somewhere.  Hank wondered to himself how much of what the machinist was doing was show and how much was actually productive.  This was something else that he didn’t ask, though, lest someone overhear.

“Sure,” he replied, handing the man the tool.  “So what’s this part for?”

“Well, this is basically going to act as a heat sink for the four-stroke engine that goin’ to go where you’re standing.  It’s also going to help heat the water that’ll be comin’ down through the pipe here.  Hopefully we can get enough energy up here at this point to break the sap down into its components.  That’s when the fun begins.”  He then continued his work.

“Uh-huh.  That doesn’t make much sense, Quincy.”

“No, it really doesn’t.  That’s why it took a while to invent.”

Hank just shook his head and stepped back, waiting for his next instruction.  It had been an interesting week, all told.  Their work had been seamless, barring a few minor accidents such as the fireworks football, and Quincy ran his small crew like, well, a ship’s captain.  He had absolutely no problem in ordering the pirates around, or yelling at them when they screwed something up.  For the first few days, Hank had feared their responses but, oddly enough, they really didn’t seem to care.  More than anything else, he found that they were simply glad to have something to do.  It seemed that Lloyd didn’t take them out as much nowadays as he had in the past and they had been growing a little bit antsy.

They were also exceedingly more talkative than Hank had expected.  They talked rather freely about their various misdeeds and close calls with the authorities, wearing them like badges of honor.  In fact, some of the pirates had a knack for storytelling and they often gathered together in the evenings to hear the wild imaginings of these men.  It was all elaboration of things that they had all been a part of – and therefore they knew that the men were lying – but nobody seemed to mind.  They all just laughed and banged their drinks together, glad to relive their previous glory.

For the past few nights, Hank had attended these meetings and they treated him well enough.  It turned out that the men had developed a certain sort of respect for the Iron Dove and her crew.  They had explained to him that it was one of the only ships that had given them an actual fight within the last few months and, even though they had lost friends during the assault, they admitted that Hank and the others had fought rather valiantly.  It was strange to be congratulated for wounding or killing someone’s friend but Hank would smile and nod his thanks all the same.

“You blasted ole Nick right good, you did,” the pirate had said, grinning and slapping the boy on the shoulder.  “Man had been a mean old dog, too, let me tell ya.  Guy once took a bullet to the heart without so much as slowin’.  We had been attacking one of them Guard’s weapons depots, you see, and… well, you’re not interested in that.  But good job, lad.”  It was all rather unnerving.

The Periwinkle Gang was by no means a large gang – it couldn’t compare to the larger bands, such as the Devilfish and their associates – but they had managed to carve out for themselves a small piece of the pirating pie.   They were mainly about surviving beyond the reaches of modern society and tried to make a quick profit at the same time.  They hit the occasional cargo ship, hoping that it was either money or food, and every once in a while raided one of the smaller Reach towns strung out along the railroad tracks.  It wasn’t the most profitable thing, they had come to find, but it was an existence better than some.

When asked why they let Lloyd run the show, most would simply shrug.  He was something of an eccentric, they admitted, but he was apparently a tactical genius; as far as the pirates were concerned, anyway.  He could supposedly orchestrate truly beautiful raids and mid-air heists that would rival even the greatest pirates of the day.  So they allowed his oddities.  The true “leader”, though, they would all quickly point out, was Ivan.  He was silent most of the time but he was fearless and could raise your morale with just a glance.  Everyone admired the giant Russian and insisted that, when the bullets actually started flying and men’s boots hit the deck, it was Ivan that was in charge.  It was a strange duality that they somehow made work.

Overall, they were a surprisingly good group of men – and the occasional woman – and Hank couldn’t shake the feeling that, under different a different situation, he might actually have fun.  Quincy, however, kept him busy enough that his mind didn’t wander down these paths often.  Parts didn’t carry themselves, after all.

It was s short time later that a Claxton sounded from somewhere down below in the main den and the pirates started scurrying about rather hurriedly.  For a time, Hank had no idea what was going on and none of the men spared him any time as they did… whatever it was that they were doing.  Only after the siren finally stopped and people started to calm a bit did he get an answer.

“Irons is coming.”

He, of course, had absolutely no idea what this meant so this didn’t help things much.  He did manage to learn that Irons was a person, but little else, including why it was such a big deal.  Quincy wasn’t much help in this matter, either.  Being new to the expanses of Franklin Reach, he had virtually no grasp of the pirate goings-on.  Instead, he had simply shrugged and continued working on his machine.

Hank was nothing if not a curious fellow, though, so he excused himself and clambered out of the Quicksilver and onto the main dock.  The dock was, for lack of a better term, a surprisingly precarious structure.  It rested on the top of the massive bush, cut down in a ways in order to conceal the ships that settled there.  It seemed to only be firmly attached at a few points, meaning that it was relatively free to swing and sway a bit as the bush moved in the wind.  Horribly windy stairs and a rickety elevator allowed the men to move up to it from the strange buildings that were tacked on the branches further down into the bush.  Supposedly, there were a few buildings all the way at the bottom, including the mine and refinery, but Hank had never actually seen them in person.  He didn’t really trust the elevator to take him all the way down there.

It seemed as though most of the pirate band had gathered up there to see this Irons fellow coming in.  They all stood around dumbly for a time, simply looking up into the traditionally blue sky.  Just as Hank was starting to get a little frustrated in waiting, though, a small but ridiculously stylish airship came into view over the lip of the bush.  A number of birds rustled and flew away as the ship slipped overhead, its engines making almost no sound at all.  All that could be heard was the beating of propellers.

Upon closer inspection, Hank realized that this airship didn’t have any balloons, armored or otherwise.  It was flying completely under the power of a number of propellers and props that pointed in various directions.  It was small as far as airships went, but Hank had never heard of anything this large flying purely by engine power.  If this wasn’t enough, though, the thing was also flamboyantly painted a brilliant red with two wide yellow and orange stripes running down its length.  It moved through the air expertly; it was obvious a skilled man was at the helm.  A surprising number of gun barrels also poked out the sides of the things, making it an oddly threatening yet awe-inspiring vessel in total.

The ship soon settled softly onto the deck proper and the gangway was extended by unseen crewman.  Like the coming of some royal emperor or something, the gangway appeared to be covered in a crushed red velvet and a small honor guard of sorts slowly moved down it, all dressed identically in orange uniforms and holding Browning Automatic Rifles.  It was an intimidating sight, Hank thought, which was probably the point.  After the honor guard had properly spread itself out across the deck facing the pirates quite passive-aggressively, a man appeared at the top of the gangway and started moving down it.

He was a rather tall man, and would’ve been called lanky if it wasn’t for the small but apparent presence of muscle.  He had a strong-set jaw and a downturned nose, a look on his face of mild disgust.  His hair was a pitch black in color, oiled and nicely combed, and long enough to reach the middle of his upper back.  It was, however, tastefully pulled back and held together by a simple tie of light blue cloth.  His sideburns reached down almost to his jaw line but he had no other visible facial hair.  His dress was marginally peculiar, Hank supposed, as he tried to figure out what era they had come from.  Unfortunately, as far as he was concerned, the clothes didn’t match the ship or the guards’ uniforms.  He had a simply dress coat with a long tail of a strange dark aquamarine color over a white dress shirt with its collar worn up.  His pants were dressy, if simple, and a slightly lighter color than the coat.  Hank couldn’t see any weapon on the man, but he was pretty sure that something could easily be hiding under that coat.

As he reached the dock, he glanced about slightly, his chin tipped up, and waited for Lloyd to scramble forth; which he did, Ivan close behind.  He stopped about five yards from the man, seemingly unable to bring himself any closer.  The other Periwinkle men, by comparison, were keeping a much further distance.

“Mr. Irons, to what do we owe this pleasure,” Lloyd asked, attempting to sound as polite and official as possible.

“McAmis, your tithes are due,” Irons said in a seemingly bored voice.

“But I was under the impression that those were due at the beginning of the month, which is still a week or so away.”

“And yet they are due now,” he said in reply.  His eyes wandered lazily across the deck.

“Of course.  Ivan, if you’d please?”  The large man turned and barked some quick orders at a few of the pirates, who quickly ran off toward the elevators.  “May I ask what brings you out personally, sir?  We are not often graced by the presence of the Devilfish himself, after all.”

“Word has it that you may have taken prisoner a man that I am looking for.”  Hank’s heart quickened and he suddenly found himself wishing he could blend into the background.  “A Quincy Boone, as it happens.  Where is he?”

“Quincy Boone, you say?  I don’t recognize the name.  May I ask what he looks like?”

“Don’t play the fool with me, McAmis.  Some of your men are not quite as loyal as you may think.  Bring him to me and I may forgive this little memory lapse of yours.”

“My apologies, Archibald, but I honestly don’t recall holding anyone by that name.  But if I did, he would obviously be down in the refinery.  You’re more than free to wander down there if you’d like.”

“I would rather not wander through this little children’s fort of yours.”  Ivan snarled and took a step forward, but Lloyd put his hand out to stop him.  Irons, however, more than noticed.  “Is something wrong?  Is your little Russian actually capable of understanding civilized speech?  I’m impressed; you’ve trained him well.”

Lloyd’s hand wasn’t enough to stop Ivan this time.  The crossed the distance quickly and came to stand in front of Irons.  Clenching his fist, he pulled it back as if to strike.  Before he could, however, Archibald’s hand swept around like lightning, cracking into the side of the Russian’s head, hard.  Ivan took a step backward, stunned.  In an instance, the guards leveled their weapons at the gathered pirates as they, in turn, drew pistols and knives from their belts.  Hank gasped and tried to move backward a little.  This could turn very bad very quickly.

“You were not given permission to approach me, peasant,” Irons said matter-of-factly.

“Ivan, please come back over here,” Lloyd said, his voice quiet.  “We don’t want to cause any more trouble for our guest.”

Grunting and rubbing his face slightly, Ivan turned and slowly moved back to Lloyd’s side.  Hank had never seen anyone act like that toward Ivan.  He doubted that many did, or could more than once.  This Archibald Irons was a powerful man; that much was clear.

“One more chance, Lloyd.  Where is the machinist, Quincy Boone?”

“I don’t know, but I promise you we’ll do our best to find him.  And let you know as soon as we do, of course.”  Lloyd gave him another smile and even bowed slightly.

“Very well.  But know that if I find you are lying to me, I will crush this little playground gang of yours.  Recall that you exist in the first place because I allow it.  Paying your tithe does not allow you to do as you wish.”

“Of course.”

“My men will wait for your payment,” Irons said before turning and promptly moving back up the gangway and disappearing from view.

True to his word, his armed guard remained unmoving on the dock until the Periwinkle boys finally brought forth four duffle bags which, Hank later learned, were full of cash.  After receiving the “tithe”, the guards had then turned as easily as their commander and returned to the ship.  The gangway had only just begun to be pulled up – again by unseen crewmen of some sort – the ship began to rise up out of the docking area.  In a simple matter of moments, it was gone again, replaced by nothing but open sky.

The tension that had filled the room was replaced by curses, some of which were new to Hank’s ears, as the pirates slowly shuffled off back to their respective duties.  Hank spared a glance at Ivan, but then quickly looked away.  The man appeared as though he could completely eviscerate the first person that said anything to him and Hank didn’t want that to be him.  Instead, he quickly returned to the cargo hold of the Quicksilver, which he suddenly saw as his own personal little refuge.

“So what was all that commotion about, then,” Quincy asked distractedly, his head still down inside of the machine.  “Sounded like one of those newer ships.”

“It was Archibald Irons, the Devilfish.  He was looking for you.”  That got the old man’s attention.  He stood up and looked at the boy.

“He was looking for me, you say?  Hmm.  And what did our Blue Fist say?”

“Said he had never heard of you and that you definitely weren’t here.”

“Rather brave of him.”

Aye.  Irons threatened to destroy him if he was lying.”

“I see.  I wonder how they knew I was here.”

“Not sure,” Hank said, shrugging.  “Irons said something about Lloyd’s men not being as loyal as he thought they were.  Maybe somebody gave you up.”

“And it may just be false talk in order to spook our fine pirate captain.  Oh well,” Quincy responded before sticking his head back into the engine.  “I’m sure it’ll all work out well in the end.”

“Yeah, I hope so.”

Either way, though, Hank was going to see about getting his revolver back.