Chenda and the Airship Brofman (42 page)

They walked down the street toward the mountain. Fenimore guided them to a jewelry store on the way, where he ducked in with several of the trinkets from Chenda's pouchbelt. He returned a few minutes later.

“Well,” Candice asked. “How did you do?”

“We got enough,” he said, and he pulled Chenda along the street toward the Crider Island Incline Station, where they bought tickets and waited for the next car. Fenimore kept looking up at the sky, and the thin outline of the airslips above.

“Is she there?” Chenda asked. “Can you see the
Brofman
?”

Fenimore pressed his lips into a thin line. “No. Not yet.”

Finally, the incline car arrived, and they piled on with the other passengers. Chenda leaned against the glass window and looked out at the mountain as giant cables pulled the small car upward. As they rose higher and higher, she could see the beautiful sandy beaches to the east. She held Fenimore's hand.

This place is lovely. I see why your sister likes it here.

“I thought my sister was insane to leave the Republic, but I think she is happy here. Who am I to judge? I just worry about what's coming to this island if Verdu succeeds.”

I'm worried about what will happen if he fails.

The incline jerked to a halt at the end of its track, and everyone filed off. Fenimore led Chenda and Candice to the passenger elevators leading up to the Airship Terminal. When they reached the top, Fenimore made his way to the information counter, and put on his most charming smile.

“Excuse me,” he said sweetly to the pretty girl behind the counter. “Do you have a reservation today for an airship named
Brofman
?”

The girl looked down at her ledger. “Yes,” she said. “Today at 2:00 p.m. Renting a slip for one night. Slip 23.”

“Thank you,” Fenimore said, turning and looking at a large clock on the wall. It was ten minutes of two. Fenimore smiled and walked toward slip 23.

“I think we are going to make it,” he said excitedly.

Candice sighed with relief. “That's great, because I am ready to go.”

Fenimore's smile started to fade as he looked around the assembly areas near several of the slips they passed. He pulled Chenda closer to him, using his hand to pull her face into his chest. To the casual observer, they looked like a cuddling couple, but the tension in Fenimore's hands put Chenda on alert.

What's wrong?

“There are far too many Tugrulians lingering up here,” he said, “Keep walking right past number 23.” He hissed to catch Candice's eye, and shot her a warning look. She nodded, and followed her companions more closely. They slowed their pace slightly, as they made a complete circuit of the terminal. As they approached number 23 for the second time, Fenimore saw the
Brofman
closing in on the airslip. He leaned close to Chenda's ear and quickly started whispering instructions.

“You're going to have to run for it, I think. So, here is how we are going to do this. I'm going to let you go ahead of me, and I want you to take Candice by the hand. Run out the door to slip 23 – all the way to the end. With your free hand, put one finger in the air and wave it in a circle. That's the signal for Endicott to get the
Brofman
turned around and get out of here. Run straight to the end of the pier, understand? He'll get you. I'll be right behind you, I just need to be sure that no one comes out that door after us.” Fenimore's voice was commanding. “Take Candice and run. NOW!”

Chenda reached back and grabbed Candice by the hand and ran to the door to slip 23. As she stepped out, the cold wind hit her like a slap. Chenda could see Lincoln in the bow of the
Brofman
, preparing to hop over with a mooring line. Chenda waved wildly at him, then made the signal to turn the ship. Lincoln looked puzzled for a moment, then dropped the rope and turned to signal to the wheelhouse. As Chenda and Candice ran to the end of the pier, the
Brofman
quickly turned. It was now perpendicular to the end of the pier, and sinking slightly. Germer appeared at the mid-ship rail.

“Jump, my girls! JUMP!” he called.

Chenda could feel Candice start to shy away, so she planted her feet at the last second and pulled Candice forward, flinging her off the end of the pier at Germer's waiting arms. Candice landed with little grace, but she was aboard. Chenda backed up a few steps, ran forward and leaped. She sprawled across the deck, and Stanley was there, helping her to her feet.

“Fenimore,” she pleaded. “Where's Fen?” She looked over the railing of the
Brofman
as the airship slowly passed the end of slip 23. She saw Fenimore running at full speed toward the end of the pier, pain etched on his face and a bright bloodstain on the front of his shirt.

“NO!” Chenda yelled, watching as Fenimore threw himself off the end of the pier. His eyes locked on hers as he sailed through the air, his hand reaching for the rail of the
Brofman
and not quite reaching it. Chenda screamed as Fenimore disappeared below the airship.

Chapter 22

THE WELCOMING REPUBLIC

The
Brofman
accelerated and began to gain altitude. Chenda scrambled to her feet and ran to the railing. She had one leg over when Stanley tackled her and wrestled her to the deck.

“STOP!” he yelled. “Germer is coming with a bitter-end for you. Be still!”

Chenda thrashed and sobbed. “Fenimore!” she screamed. Her head was spinning with panic. She couldn't imagine the
Brofman
without Fenimore. In her mind's eye, all she could see was his broken body smashed on the mountain below. Chenda fought against Stanley's grip, screaming “FENIMORE!”

“What?” Fenimore answered as he pulled himself over the side of the ship's railing, the bloodied aft mooring line in his hands. He collapsed next to Chenda, who kicked Stanley in the shins until he let her go. She grabbed Fenimore around the neck as he lay on the deck, panting and still clutching the rope that saved his life. She buried her face in his chest, sobbing.

“I thought you fell!” she cried. “I was so scared! You're bleeding.”

“Yep,” Fenimore said. “That's what happens when one of the three Tugrulian thugs you’re fighting stabs you with your own boot knife.” Despite pain and the breathlessness of exertion, Fenimore managed to sound a little embarrassed.

He reached an arm around Chenda's waist and tied the mooring line tightly around her. “Non-negotiable,” he said. “You set foot on the deck of the
Brofman
, you wear a safety line.”

Chenda laughed through her tears.
You're always looking out for me.

“Always,” he said placing a single finger on her cheek. “OK. I need a doctor.”

Chenda looked down at Fenimore's shirt. Blood was flowing out of a deep wound in his side.

“Kingston! Somebody get Kingston!” she called.

Candice appeared by her side, pulling Chenda back so that Stanley and Germer could haul Fenimore to his feet and help him make his way below decks. Chenda wanted to follow, but she couldn't untie the knot in the mooring line fastened around her. Her fingers were shaking too much.

“Chenda, calm down,” Candice said reaching for the rope. Her fingers quickly loosened the knot.

Captain Endicott opened the wheelhouse door and called out to them, “Hold on, I'll come help.” He jumped down and grasped each lady firmly by the arm. At the top of the steps, he released Chenda and she flew down the stairs. Candice however, he wouldn't let go of.

“Welcome back,” he said, relief evident in his every feature. “I was worried about you.”

Candice threw her hands around his neck and squeezed. “I missed you, too.”

“Come on up to the wheelhouse and tell me all about it,” he offered. “And I'm really hoping you don't throw up this time.”

“Your lips to the gods' ears,” Candice replied.

“How about my lips to yours?” the captain said, his eyes smiling.

“That,” Candice said, “is something we can negotiate.”

Chenda flew to the end of the end of the passageway and into the galley. Fenimore was stretched out on the table with Kingston already at work suturing his patient. Germer, Lincoln and Stanley all stood back, not wanting to look at the bloody wound, but all unwilling to be the first to leave.

Chenda quickly assessed the situation, and said, “Thank you all so much for helping us aboard. I'm so sorry we've made a mess of deck, the rope and so on. I'll be happy to go up there and take care of the mess just as soon as I check on Fenimore here.”

They all started speaking at once, “Oh, we can do that.” “Wouldn't hear of you cleaning up.” “We'll get right on that.” Germer, Lincoln and Stanley fell over themselves to trying to be helpful and productive elsewhere.

Chenda settled into a chair across from where Kingston stood working, and she held Fenimore's hand. His eyes met hers.

“You're a mess,” he said.

“You're the one who's trailed blood all over the ship.” She smiled and pressed the back of Fenimore's hand against her chin. They stared at each other for a moment, until Kingston cleared his throat.

“Hello, Kingston,” Chenda said without taking her eyes off of Fenimore's face.

“Oh, well hello, Chenda. So glad you could bring Fenimore back in such fine shape. I was thinking that all I needed to make my day complete would be a stab wound after lunch. Thrilled you could oblige.”

“He's making jokes,” Fenimore said. “That means it's not too serious.”

“Good,” Chenda replied as a tear of relief rolled down her cheek. “Shame on you for scaring me like that. I thought you'd fallen to your death.”

“I would have, but the aft mooring line was dangling behind the ship for some reason. I caught the end of it. It was truly lucky.” He ran a finger across the dark circles under her eyes. “How are you hanging in there? You still look exhausted. Here. Lay your head down.” He patted his shoulder.

Chenda rested her cheek on his warm skin and closed her eyes. For a minute she listened to his heart and the sounds of Kingston stitching the wound in Fenimore's side, then she slipped into a deep and dreamless sleep.

When she awoke, she realized she was alone, and it was freezing. Lying on her side in the familiar, boxy, cramped bottom bunk, she pulled her knees up to her chest, shaking. It didn't help. 
Clothes
, she thought,
I need more clothes
. She scrambled out of bed and over to the nameless cupboard that had been hers just 20 days ago. There was nothing much in there to keep her warm. She looked up and saw Verdu's name on the door. She hesitated, but a spasm of chill racked her again.

She opened the cupboard and pulled on two of Verdu's heavier shirts. She cinched them around her with a bitter-end belt. She turned back to look at the bunks. Kingston, Stanley and Germer were fast asleep, but Spencer, Lincoln and Fenimore's beds were empty. And, of course, Verdu's.

She missed Verdu a lot. She could smell him on the shirts she had liberated, and that made her feel his loss more keenly. She worried about how he was managing as she walked across the passageway to the galley, looking for Fenimore. He wasn't there. She went back to the passageway and up the stairs to the main deck. She attached a bitter-end tether to her belt and stepped out onto the ice cold boards. She longed for her aeronaut boots and flight coat. She saw Fenimore standing in his usual spot in the bow, and she tip-toed up beside him.

“Hey, sleepyhead.” He reached an arm out to wrap around her shoulders, and winced slightly as the stitches in his side made themselves known.

Careful
, she thought to him.
We don't want to have to go wake Kingston to fix what he has already fixed.

Fenimore, not wanting to be treated like an invalid, let the remark go by. “You've been asleep for almost 14 hours. Are you going to cause an earthquake or something? Shouldn't you go boil some air?”

Yes, I thought I would go make the wind blow behind us, see if we can drift a little closer to the Republic before the sun comes up. Do you feel well enough for a walk to the rear of the ship?

“I'll follow you anywhere,” he said, lacing his fingers with hers.

They ambled to the stern, where Fenimore stepped aside, giving Chenda room to work. She focused her power, and released it. Giant gusts rolled toward the ship and pushed it westward.

“Feel better?” Fenimore asked.

“I do.” Chenda replied. “It usually feels pretty good to dump out that pent up power. I always feel it trying to escape me. Now that I've let it all go, I feel most like myself.”

The
Brofman
drifted along in the predawn blush, a speck floating in a gentle purple sky. Soon, the ship would spring to life again when the sun cleared the horizon. But for now, as far as Chenda cared, the whole world slumbered and was at peace. She turned her attention to Fenimore, whose gaze was already locked on her.

He took a step closer to her and he reached one hand out. She took his hand in both of hers, lightly tracing a finger over his bruised and scratched knuckles. “You gave those Tugrulians all you had yesterday, didn't you?” She met his eyes as she gently kissed each knuckle.”