Sigmund Shaw: A Steampunk Adventure (33 page)

BOOK: Sigmund Shaw: A Steampunk Adventure
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The surface of Grimkraken’s ship was steady. One was almost able to forget that they were high in the London sky, sort of like how one might forget they are on a large ship at sea – except for the wind from the propellers, the noise, and the vibrations that Sigmund could feel through the soles of his shoes.

 

Now standing, wind blowing, the sound near deafening, he didn’t know what to do with his flying device.
One of many things I didn’t think through
. He let out the rest of the air from his balloon and then unstrapped himself – feeling a deep relief as the pain from the straps faded. He gathered up the balloon to the pack and then carefully walked over to the damaged hull around the propeller. He found in the damaged section a crevice that could hold his pack. He tucked it in and hoped that it would indeed stay – he also hoped that he would survive to care.

 

Next for Sigmund was to figure out how he would enter the ship. Surely there had to be several hatches on the surface –
didn’t ships have hatches?
A search of the area around him did produce a door, however, it was locked from the inside. This wasn’t like a house door with a handle and keyhole, there was no locking mechanism visible. Sigmund lost a lot of hope in that moment. He searched a little more, fighting the wind with each step, and found another hatch with the same construction. He thought of using one of the explosive devices that Sutton had given him but wasn’t sure it was a good idea. If the bomb opened the hatch, which he wasn’t convinced it would, it would make a lot of noise and limit him to only one explosive device for the Gauss cannon. No, if he was going to enter the ship, he needed to try and find another way.

 

Moving back to the damaged section of the hull, Sigmund saw that it was more severe on the front edge of the ship. He dropped to his knees as he approached the edge of the hull. One foot from the edge he dropped to his stomach and crawled forward until he could see London far below. A little further and he could look down and see the front of the right bow. There must have been several hits here as the hull was torn into pretty good. There looked to be some welded sheets of metal put up at various areas – no doubt inflight repairs. Then he spotted a potential option. The decks may have been sealed up but there was a vent that was open to the air. It was large enough for a man to crawl through – although getting to it would be very difficult.

 

He pushed himself away from the edge and sat back on his knees. He wondered if he was mistaken in thinking he could do this. The wind whipped around him as he closed his eyes. At first he only saw himself falling but he forced his mind to focus on the task at hand. How he would climb over the edge, how he would latch onto exposed superstructure, how he would climb into the vent and enter the ship. It helped. He opened his eyes, took a deep breath and looked around him. There was a damaged part of the hull behind him and to the right. Sigmund lifted his wrist and pointed the grappling device at the damaged section, a jagged hole in the armor plating. He pressed the button and watched as the hook flew through the air and into the damaged section. He pulled on the rope until the hook anchored on something. The string that trailed the hook and was attached to the wrist launcher looked impossibly thin. Having little faith in its ability to actually support him, he figured it was still better than nothing.

 

He once more dropped to his stomach and inched towards the edge. Reaching the edge, he adjusted his prone body so that his leg could be swung over the side. He felt around for a foothold and panicked briefly until it was found. He put some weight on it and found that it was solid. He swept his other leg over and found another foothold. Without looking down he lowered his first foot and again searched for another object to stand on. That found, he moved his second foot and did the same. Slowly and carefully Sigmund climbed down the front of the damaged section of the ship, trailing the rope above him, until he was just below the level of the exposed vent. Looking around him he spotted a beam that led from his current position towards his destination. He bent his legs down readying to jump, then froze. He hoped he could get through this without thinking too much but finally fear had caught up. He tightened his grip on his hand holds and pulled his body as close to the ship as possible. His breaths became short, sweat started to bead.

 

“Settle yourself!” he yelled, but didn’t let up on his grip.

 

He took a few deep breaths and thought of options. He could stay where he was and hope the ship landed or just die of thirst – not exactly a real option. He could climb back up and try to fly off. Or he could make the jump and enter the ship. He knew that he would not stay where he was, he would have to try something. At this point, climbing back up would likely be more difficult than entering the ship – that, and hopefully a little courage, made up his mind. Relaxing his grip, he stared up at the beam and imagined the actions. He bent down again like a coiled spring, made sure he had plenty of slack in his rope, and launched himself up. He grasped the beam tightly with his arms and then swung his legs up and around it. Keeping all four limbs around the beam he slowly slid his way along it. He did this for twenty feet until he was near the vent. Dropping to an outcropping of iron, remnants of a damaged deck, he knew he would be able to climb into the vent. He removed his wrist grappling device, thankful that he didn’t have to rely on it – despite Sutton’s faith in it – and was able to climb into the vent and drag his body, head first, along it into Grimkraken’s ship.

 

The vent shaft was dark and was a little wider than his body. The cramped space didn’t allow him to move very quickly. He had to use his elbows and forearms to pull himself forward. Sigmund felt a growing dread at being closed in, unable to freely move his limbs. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, a dim light appeared ahead. The thought that this light could be the escape from this vent sent a wave of motivation through Sigmund – although he couldn’t go any faster than he already was. As he got closer to the light, he could see that it was a grate, an opening in the vent that allowed air to flow in the below space. It wasn’t until now that Sigmund considered the idea that the space below, whatever it was, could be occupied and that he needed to be very cautious.

 

Despite his intense desire to move quickly and get out of this constricting vent, he forced himself to slow down so as to make as little noise as possible and to better be able to listen for sounds. Nothing. No sounds beyond the constant thrumming of the ship. He continued to edge forward until he could see through the thin metal grated opening. The space below looked to be a small room with some small light source that Sigmund couldn’t see. Most importantly, it was empty of people. Sigmund stuck his fingers through openings in the grate and pushed. It bent a little but didn’t open. It must have been bolted. Sigmund looked around the grate inside the vent tube and found four bolts protruding through the corners of the grate with a nut on each one. Sigmund tried to unscrew the first nut and found that it was too tight to loosen with just his hands. The next one, however, he was able to work free. The third one was even easier. With the two bolts nearest him now free, he pushed on the thin metal grate and started to bend it open. When it was opened far enough to allow him to pass through he considered how to lower himself into the room. For a moment he thought of going head first but decided that he was too high to have any chance of not getting hurt. Instead, he worked his body past the opening and backed down, feet first, the bent grate scraping along his belly and chest. With most of his body through, his arms could support him no more and he dropped to the floor.

 

The room was bare. It had metal walls, a hatch for a door, like you would see on an ocean going vessel, and nothing else.
Maybe a small storage area or an unfinished crew cabin?
wondered Sigmund. He walked to the hatch and put his ear to the cold metal to listen for noises in the hallway. Again, there was only silence. Although not certain of what deck he was on, he knew he was on one of the lower decks, possibly the lowest. That could work in his favor assuming that the operations, and therefore most of the crew, were all above him.

 

He opened the door and slipped in to the hallway. To his right the hallway ended abruptly a few yards down with metal plating forming a makeshift wall – repairs to the damage that this section received. Hard to believe he was recently on the other side of that wall. To his left, the metal hallway ran about thirty yards before ending in a wall with a hatch that had a small round window in it. There were doors on each side of the hallway like the one that Sigmund had just came through –
more storage or cabins
, Sigmund thought.

 

Walking to his left, down the length of the ship, he stopped and looked through the little window in the hatch at the end of the hall. On the other side of the hatch door he could see another section of hallway that was identical to the one he was in, also ending in a wall with another windowed hatch. He opened the door and walked to the next hatch. Sigmund realized that he had gone far enough so that he should be under the next propeller. This confirmed that the engine rooms were on another level above him.

 

Looking through the window he could see that the next hallway was different. It was longer and had another hallway about twenty yards down that crossed it, heading to the right and to the left. He had just opened the hatch and was about to investigate when he heard sounds – footsteps and muffled voices. Some of the muffled voices were yelling and then he heard the words, “Traitor” and “off the ship”. Wanting to understand what this was about, Sigmund left the hatch slightly opened and peered through the window. He figured that this group of people were coming down the branching hallway and that he would have enough time to hide if he needed to. The sounds grew louder, footsteps, scuffling, and more yelling. Sigmund could now hear every word. “You want to side with the weak Royals? Well, we will send you to them. We are not far from the palace, perhaps if you flap hard you could make it there!” Some laughing followed and was accompanied by more shuffling. Another few moments and the men came in view. There was one man in the lead, tall, with a satisfied look on his lean face. Behind him were three men, two of them holding the third man – hands shackled – between them. The shackled man struggled against the other two’s grip but was unable to break free. Sigmund was surprised by a feeling that he knew this shackled man, although he wasn’t sure where. The group didn’t turn down the hallway that Sigmund was navigating but continued straight across, from the right to the left.

 

While struggling, before going out of Sigmund’s view, the shackled man had turned his head Sigmund’s way, and Sigmund saw that he had on his head emerald green goggles. He realized immediately where he knew this man from. This was the guard that had spotted Sigmund when he broke into the factory to steal a cube. Connections started to build in his head, this man is a traitor to Grimkraken and had let Sigmund go.
Who was he?

 

Sigmund decided quickly that it didn’t matter who he was, that this man was on the same side as he was, fighting against Grimkraken. The thought of “the enemy of my enemy is my friend’ passed through his mind.

 

The group moved out of sight when they went down the left hallway. Sigmund quickly passed through his hatch and crept quietly to the corner. Slowly looking around it he saw that the men were stopped not far down it and at a wall with another hatch. There was little question that this hatch led to outside the ship. Any doubt was removed as the lead man opened it and the dark night was visible. Sigmund then heard the lead ask the shackled man, “Any last words?”

 

Sigmund slipped the ether gun from his waist band, walked around the corner, and said, “Yes. Nobody move.”

 

The men all turned to face Sigmund and quickly their eyes went to his gun. Talking to the lead man, he commanded, “Close the hatch.” The man continue to stare at Sigmund with a dumb look on his face. Sigmund pointed the gun at the man’s face and shouted, “Now!” That seemed to work as the man did what he was told.

 

Gaining some of his composure, the lead asked, “Who are you? I demand that you drop your weapon.”

 

Sigmund wasn’t exactly sure what to do now. He stopped them from throwing the man out the hatch but he hadn’t thought beyond accomplishing that. These men would have to be subdued. He said to the two men holding the prisoner, “Let him go and stand against the wall.” Then to the lead, “You too, against the wall.” To his surprise, the men listened and lined up. The shackled man backed away from them and towards Sigmund, a confused look on his face. Sigmund walked closer to the men with his gun constantly trained on them.

 

The lead spat out, “Are you going to shoot us? Coward! These two are unarmed and my gun is still in my holster.”

 

Sigmund thought about responding but decided to just give them all a shot of the ether concoction. He pulled the trigger, not knowing exactly how the ether would be distributed from the gun, and found that a thin, but strong stream jetted out. He moved the stream quickly along their chins and throat area and was happy to see that the three men fell to the ground unconscious before they could protest.

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