The Wind Merchant (2 page)

Up on the bridge, the monitor beeped, alerting him to a shift in the local Energy Level. On good days he would happen upon a Level 3 source, but most days provided a 2. Level 1 meant he didn’t eat. He climbed the stairs to the bridge to read the monitor. “C’mon, four,” he said as if asking the wind for Energy had ever worked.

Level 2.

“Better than one,” he said, pressing the button to begin pooling the wind in the collection tank.

A chill swept over the bridge, causing Ras to hug his arms for warmth, rubbing some life back into them. The cold was a telltale sign there was less Energy in The Bowl to warm the wind, and he had put off spending money on a warmer coat for too long. The trend frightened him. Having a bad economy was one thing, but having that economy literally powering his city’s engines was another.

The radio squawked to life at a jarring volume, the sounds garbled and static-filled.
“Gomer Tassy. Ow obo eye? Nober.”
The phrase repeated itself, picking up speed with each iteration before Ras unplugged the power to the box, killing the spiraling loop. He plugged the box back in before saying, “Hold a tick, transmitter’s on the fritz. Over.” He gave the device the usual thwack with the palm of his hand and brought the comm unit back to his mouth. “Come again, please. Over.”

“I just want to know how you haven’t fallen out of Atmo yet, Rassy,” said a jovial voice.

Ras sighed. The voice belonged to Tibbs, one of his few remaining childhood acquaintances. He preferred Erasmus to Rassy as his full name didn’t prompt memories of schoolyard chants starting with ‘Gassy.’ “Send me your coordinates, I’ll be right over.”

“Stay where you are, Rassy. I don’t need repairs,” Tibbs said. “Got something for you. I’ll be right over…Over.”

Ras searched the skies for Tibbs, who found dangerously close buzzbys far more humorous than his targets did.
There
. Off the port bow a gleaming silver ship came careening in and clipped just above
The Copper Fox
’s balloon, forcing Ras to steady himself against the turbulence. The new airship made a lazy circle and sidled up next to its wooden-bodied brother as both vessels slowed to a halt.

Tibbs never quite lost his baby fat no matter how much time he spent working out. Those unfortunate enough to brush against his short temper knew not to make his size a point of conversation again, but he never held a grudge, and his easy smile was usually enough to set folks at ease again. Sauntering over to his railing, he waved for Ras to do likewise.

“What are you up to, trolling for Twos?” Tibbs asked.

“Just patching collection pipes.”

“Why don’t you buy a new set? How expensive can they be?” Tibbs asked.

Ras knew Tibbs had never owned an airship long enough to need repairs, always swapping out for whatever new model looked the shiniest. He assumed Tibbs didn’t actually know what a set cost. “I don’t mind getting my hands dirty,” Ras said, hoping to change the topic. “So you don’t need anything fixed?”

Tibbs snorted a laugh. “Does she look like she needs repairs?” he asked, placing a loving hand on the metal railing.

Ras shrugged. “I heard steering on the new model favors to port.”

“Now that you mention…no, she’s fine. You know, you might look into being a mechanic back on
Verdant
,” Tibbs said, “Welding goggles look good on you.”

Ras chose to take it as a compliment, smiling politely. It wasn’t easy. “My current employment suits me just fine, thanks,” he said, knowing he might as well call himself a mechanic that dabbled in wind collection. A growing percentage of his income came from various repairs for stranded wind merchants. “You said you had something for me?”

Tibbs’ eyes went wide with excitement.  “Yes, yes, yes.” He fished out a small wooden box from his cargo pocket and cradled it in his hands as though he held a rare commodity. “You heard about the new version of Helios’ KnackVision, right?”

Ras nodded. He longed for a pair of the goggles that showed Energy flowing on the wind, not least because he knew he was in the ever shrinking minority of wind merchants still flying blind.

Tibbs removed a shiny set of brass goggles from the box and placed them atop his head. “Ta-da!” he said with a flourish, jutting both hands out and spun slightly so Ras could appreciate the sides and back of the strap as well. “Just arrived this morning! With this version you can actually see the level of Energy on the wind, percentage of potency and all!” Tibbs said, quoting the promotional material.

“That’s ah...really handy, I’m sure,” Ras said, disappointed that what Tibbs had to give him looked to be little more than a demonstration.

“All the benefits of being a Knack without the pesky exploding part,” Tibbs said. “Not that you’d have to worry about that, right Rassy?”

Ras hated how well known his inability to sense Energy was among the wind merchants in
Verdant
. Ras’ grandfather was a true Knack who claimed he could actually see the Energy flying by, but he had run afoul of a concentrated amount, killing him. Elias had inherited his sixth-sense for finding potent currents, making him a fine wind merchant.

And then there was Ras, whose resounding deafness to the element gave him occasional difficulties with discerning port from starboard. “Ras or Erasmus, if you don’t mind.”

“Sure, sure, Ras, I got it,” Tibbs said. He dug a small cloth bag stitched with the Helios logo out of his other cargo pocket. “My cousin Errol said you spent the afternoon with him yesterday after he blew his engines.”

“All I could manage was getting him limping back home.”

“He said you wouldn’t let him pay you.”

Ras shrugged. “He’s going to have enough to worry about with two full rebuilds.”

“You should have charged him. He’s good for it,” Tibbs said.

“I’ll remember that next time.”

An awkward pause hung in the air before Tibbs said, “Well, I don’t really need two sets of backups, so I thought you might like these.” He pulled a pair of goggles out of the bag.

Ras knew the model instantly. An identical pair had been taunting him from behind a pawn shop’s counter while he saved up: the original model of KnackVisions crafted by Foster Helios before either young man was born.

It was difficult for Ras not to show his exuberance at the idea of finally owning his own pair of KnackVisions, even if they were old, even if they didn’t work half the time, and even if they smelled like Tibbs lost them in his ship’s septic system for a month.

“They don’t keep a charge well, but if you want them…” Tibbs said, wiggling them in his hand as if the wavy motion could make them more appealing.

“I don’t know what to say, I—” Ras stopped as Tibbs lobbed the goggles across the chasm between the two ships. Whether due to a gust of wind or Tibbs’ lack of effort, it looked like the KnackVisions would come up short. Ras jumped up to the rope rigging and reached as far as he could before he noticed a rare clearing in the clouds, showing him exactly how far he had to drop if he fell. Instinctively, he pulled back to steady himself on the ropes. The goggles plummeted, vanishing into the great below. Ras involuntarily imagined himself in their place.

“Really?” Tibbs shouted at Ras, who clung the rigging for dear life with eyes squeezed shut. “Those were practically heirloom.”

Ras hung there for a moment as waves of vertigo swept over him. “I would consider it a personal favor if you didn’t tell anyone about this,” said Ras, slowly opening his eyes and shakily lowering himself from the ropes. A flood of relief overwhelmed him at the feel of the creaky wood underfoot.

“The wind merchant afraid of heights? It’s not exactly a secret,” Tibbs said. “Listen, Ras…I know it’s tough to hear, but maybe being just a mechanic would be a good life. You’d be the go-to guy instead of—”

“Instead of what?” Ras asked. He could feel the warmth filling his cheeks.

Tibbs changed the subject out of what Ras assumed to be pity. “Hey, I gotta go drop off my haul back at The Collective’s station. You might check inside Framer’s Valley…there was more in there than I could collect myself. Probably want to catch it before it gets drained.”

“Son of a Remnant,” Ras said, “Framer’s? Are you insane?”

“Oh, c’mon, the old sky pirate nest has been empty for months,” Tibbs said. “I’m sure Bravo Company probably moved on or got blown up.”

“So you saw their base?”

Tibbs laughed. “Like I’m going to fly through the sky mines to look at it. I just went to the Valley. Pulled a Fiver.”

“Seriously? I haven’t scooped more than a Two in…I don’t know how long. Port authority says The Bowl might be running dry.”

“Don’t tell me you believe the Diver Team conspiracies,” Tibbs said. “Nobody’s down there destroying our livelihood. Who could even get that close to potent Energy? Besides, if there’s a Fiver in Framer’s,
Verdant
should have plenty to run on.”

Ras nodded and paused. “Hey, Tibbs?”

“Yeah buddy?”

“Is it true the guys started calling me a Lack?” The question held a hint of desperation, begging Tibbs to lie, and he knew it. The wind merchants back on
Verdant
had a leader board—irreverently called The Knack List—of who brought in the largest hauls, and the unfortunate soul holding the bottom spot unofficially received the title of Lack. More often than not, Ras found himself at the bottom of the list for long enough stretches that he feared the nickname had stuck.

“Framer’s Valley. Only trying to help,” said Tibbs. “See you back on
Verdant
?”

“If India Bravo doesn’t get me first,” Ras said.

“What’s she going to do, gum you to death?” Tibbs asked, flapping his jaw for effect. “She’s like, what, one-hundred?”

“I don’t know. Still young enough to run Bravo Company,” Ras said. He knew she was only fifty years old, but wasn’t interested in yet another conversation devolving into stories about how his father marshaled
Verdant
’s forces to route the sky pirate assault. “See you later, Tibbs.”

The ships drifted apart and Ras watched the shiny new airship shrink in the distance before he set his course for Framer’s Valley.

Even factoring out sky pirates, the valley held a reputation for claiming more than its fair share of wind merchants. The steep cliffs jutting above the clouds made it more a canyon than a valley and the further down one traveled, the narrower and more twisted it became. If one ventured too far, a strong gust could damage a ship enough that even an incredibly potent haul would only pay for repairs.

Ras had grown up with warnings from his father that only an idiot looking to prove his flying abilities would dare risk a ship in Framer’s, but the only person he knew who had successfully navigated it was both incredibly handsome and talented. Ras’ mother usually threw something at Elias after the advice and amended that her husband was only right about the idiot part.

Elias never disagreed on the point.

But today Ras would have to brave Framer’s to make up for his lost morning.

Returning to the bridge, he opened the throttle and set the course he would travel for the next hour. Word of where to find the best collection points spread quickly among non-guild wind merchants, and Ras hoped Tibbs hadn’t shared his info with anyone else yet.

Nearing the maw of Framer’s, the roiling clouds beneath
The Copper Fox
turned an ugly gray. The cliffs jutted too high for ships to fly above them, and Ras wondered how impressive they must have looked from the ground, disappearing into the clouds above.

He slowed his ship to a crawl at the entrance. Off in the distance, specks in the sky indicated the active sky mines surrounding the cliff-side base of Bravo Company. There wasn’t another ship in sight, which both encouraged and concerned Ras. Nobody would be around to tow him out if his ship careened into one of the walls. The entrance was wide enough for half a dozen airships to share, and he would be safe as long as he didn’t venture in too far.

Tibbs said the collection point was inside Framer’s, so inside he went. The storm beneath sent strong winds whipping around, and Ras only relented his death grip on the wheel to pull the lever lowering the collection tube.

The trolling sensor took a moment to scan the area, then blipped at him.
Level 4
.

“Yes!” Ras exclaimed. Only once had he ever stumbled upon a Level 4 haul, and it had not only placed him halfway up the The Knack List for about a month, but also had given his mother a well-deserved break from working herself ragged to compensate for her son’s flagging ability to provide. She had sold too many of her possessions already to make ends meet, but to her credit she never brought it to her son’s attention even when he noticed the items absences in the house.

Making a mental note to thank Tibbs later, Ras smacked the collection button on the console, prompting the vacuum to begin filling the tank.
The Copper Fox
drifted further into the canyon, but Ras didn’t want to pull back in case he lost the current. Filling his tank usually took ten minutes, and he felt reasonably certain his choke hold on the controls would keep him out of trouble for that long.

However, halfway through collecting his Level 4 haul, the trolling sensor blipped out another spike.

Level 5
.

It would be a personal record, but it would also mean dumping his current haul and starting over so as not to dilute the Fiver. He would need to fly into the canyon a bit further to chase the higher potency, but a Level 5 collection would surely erase the Lack title for at least a couple months, and if he could come back tomorrow and pull back to back Fives, he could afford a used pair of KnackVisions. He pressed the button, jettisoning the Level 4 air.

Beep
. Level 6. The canyon narrowed.

He chuckled nervously as he restarted the collection process again. It had been years since anybody in
Verdant
pulled in a Level 6 haul and Ras noted Tibbs probably only pulled a Fiver because he wasn’t willing to risk a few scrapes on his shiny ship.

A loud shriek of wood scraping rock made Ras’ skin crawl as a gust pushed
The Copper Fox
against the cliff to port. Ras told himself the damage was still worth pulling in a 6, and rationalized how he would point to the scrape as part of a war story from “
Framer’s.
” Granted, he would need to say, “
No, not
that
one
” several times, but it would still be worth it.