Wind Dancer: Secret War Steampunk Series - Adventure, Mystery + Mad Science (10 page)

“I truly do have to reach Hong Kong though, Captain,” Abigail
said. “I cannot offer you much in the way of remuneration immediately, but I do
promise that I shall see you compensated. That is, if you can get me to
somewhere that I might continue on my way easily.” Will glanced at Saira. The Arms-Master
turned both hands palm up, their secret signal that Saira thought they were
telling only the truth.

“I think that she is good Cap’n,” Saira said. “Hells, after
that story about Hu Fan, I would lend her my underwear!”

Will nodded in decision. He’d never known Saira to be wrong
yet about someone she was reading. Still, there was her father’s poking around
in Hong Kong to consider. Maybe the daughter showing up would distract the old
man from whatever he was doing in the Asian underground. It never hurt to have
another aristocrat think well of you. He looked at Abigail and grinned again.

“Well, Lady…Abigail,” he caught himself, remembering her
wishes about how she wanted to be addressed. “It seems that you really are on
the good side of some spirits somewhere. So happens that we’ve got a cargo that
we have to deliver to Hong Kong right quickly.
Dancer
may not be what
you’re used to, but we can have you in Hong Kong in seven or eight days if
you’re of a mind.” He grinned his most boyish grin at her, “and for telling
that story about Hu Fan, there’ll be no charge either.”

Abigail breathed a sigh of relief. She could see no reason
for him to lie to her. After all, if his intentions were bad, there was very
little she could do to stop him. Besides she didn’t feel that Saira would
support such intentions. There was something about Saira that gave Abigail the
impression that Abigail knew her character well, even on such short
acquaintance. She smiled back at him.

“Thank you, Captain,” she replied. “I assure you that your
accommodations will most certainly be superior to what I have experienced of
late.” Will and Saira smiled at this, as the light tube overhead chose that
moment to flicker. At the same moment, the Bridge talker Naomi’s voice sounded
through the grill set in Wills desk summoning Will to the engine room.

“Sounds like I’d best go see what Devi has to say,” Will
stood up quickly and began moving towards the doorway.

“If you are having Tesla problems, Captain, it is possible
that I may be able to assist. It is my area of specialty as you say.” Abigail
pointed out mildly. Will turned and looked at her.

“Well, that’s right kind of you, Abigail,” Will said mildly.
“But Devi is as good as they come. She’s kept this crate in the air for years
now.” He then turned to Saira, “You willing to take her on?” Saira looked at Abigail
then back at Will.

“Sure, Cap’n,” She said easily. “I got her.” Will nodded.

“Put her in the cabin next to yours then,” Will ordered.
“Anyone have a problem, they can talk to me about it. Can you parcel out your
duties for a couple of days while our guest gets settled in?”

Saira considered for a moment. “I still want to run the after
action review. Besides that though, Tikku can run the drills, and Sebastian can
see to post-action maintenance to the ship’s guns.” Will nodded in agreement.

“I’ll let Rogers know for the roster, then,” he said
decisively. “Consider yourself off standard for a bit.”

“Aiya, Cap’n Will,” Saira grinned.
She was sure the Englishwoman was no threat, but wouldn’t argue the point, even
if she wasn’t sitting across from her. “Can I draw double rum rations? Have to
entertain her and all that.” Will shook his head in mock sorrow at his Arms-Master’s
sally. He turned to Abigail. “Watch yourself with this one, Lady Hadley. She is
a sorceress
of no small ability, and will catch you out with her
charms.”

“Like you, Cap’n?” Saira teased.

“I am a warrior of Wovoka, and immune to your wiles,” he shot
back with a grin, “and the answer to your request is no,” he said firmly. “Lady
Hadley can draw the same ration as everyone else, without any help.” He looked
up, as the light tube flickered again. He gave them both a little courtly bow
that somehow didn’t seem out of place to Abigail.

“Abigail, I’ll leave you with Saira now, who really will see
you safe and settled. I will talk to you both later.”

“Thank you, Captain,” Abigail began to say, only to see Will
already moving out the doorway.

“You only think so, Cap’n! “ Saira called to his back, and
laughed as he made a warding gesture with his hand over his shoulder at her. Abigail
blinked at Saira’s comments.

“Are you always so…informal?” she asked the Arms-Master.
Saira rose from the cabin chair where she was sitting. Abigail rose and
followed her as they moved towards the doorway.

“You almost sound like Mr. Rogers, our First Officer,” Saira
looked at her smiling. “He’s British too, says that I lack ‘proper decorum’.”
She struck a much exaggerated pose with her nose in the air that almost made Abigail
laugh out loud. Saira then dropped the pose, and waved her hands dismissively.
“We do not generally bother with a lot of that ‘yes sir, may I scratch myself
sir’ sort of thing on
Dancer
,” she said. “Oh a bit, but only when it
matters though. We have not offended you already have we?” Saira paused to look
at her. Abigail smiled back at her as they stood by the door.

“Actually, I must say that I find it rather refreshing,” Abigail
replied. “I have little patience for that sort of thing myself.”

“Well, we will do our best to refresh the hell out of you
then, Abigail.” Saira grinned at her. Her hand rested on the door handle.
“Shall we get you settled in then? We will have to be quiet and quick passing
through the bridge, but it is the easiest path to your berth.” Abigail nodded
for her to continue.

“Lead on,” Abigail said with a nod. Saira opened the door. Together
the two tip-toed across the bridge, keeping to one wall. Mr. Rogers regarded
them for a moment from his station near the map table, then turned back to what
he was doing without speaking to them. Once beyond the large steel doors that
separated the bridge from the main corridor, Saira turned to Abigail and spoke
softly.

“That was the bridge, where the ship is run from,” she
explained. “Never enter the bridge, the engine room, or the armory without
permission. It is very much not allowed, unless you have business there.” Abigail
nodded at this solemnly. Saira smiled at the Scholar.

“It is not as if you will have anything to do with the
running of the ship.” She paused. After we get you settled, perhaps you might
want to take a bath?” Abigail’s eyes went wide at this offer, as she followed
the dark skinned woman down the corridor. The few people she passed flattened
themselves against the wall. Abigail caught flashes of annoyance on some of the
faces, but taking her cue from Saira, ignored them.

“You have the means for a bath?” She inquired in amazement.
Saira nodded.

“Actually,” the Arms-Master replied, “we have a common bath
with both hot and cold tubs sunk into the floor. It is part of the ballast
system. I told you this used to be some warlords toy, yes? Well, apparently, he
felt it important for his crew to be clean. Cap’n is the same way. One of the
things he’s insistent on actually.” Saira gave her a sideways glance. “Course
when I say ‘common’ I mean that we all share it together at the same time, boys
and girls alike.”

Abigail had read of such things being done before, but
despite her view of herself as a modern enlightened woman, the idea
was…unsettling. She had shared such activities only with a couple of very
daring lovers. To cover her adjustment to the idea, she looked at around the
corridor they were traveling. The walls were panels of a dark wood, the floor much
the same, along the corners of the ceiling ran long light tubes that bathed the
corridor in bright light. Her noise caught the faint scent of some spice in the
air.

What caught her eye were the intricate carvings that ran
along the join between floor and wall, wall and ceiling. Occasionally a whole
wall panel had been carved into a scene. Though no artist, she could recognize
that they were done with great skill. One of a small leaping deer that repeated
down along the corridor seemed very lifelike.

“What incredible carvings,” Abigail said, pointing. “They are
beautiful.”

“Yes, they are,” Saira said indifferently. “Some
of the crew whittle in their free time.” The light tube above their heads
dimmed to near darkness and after a long pause, brightened again
.

“Vishnu’s balls,” Saira breathed, looking up.

“I take it this does not happen often?” Abigail asked. Saira
shook her head.

“Never,” the other woman said. Abigail stopped suddenly in
the corridor, placing her hands on her hips.

“Take me to your engine room,” she said abruptly in a tone
that was not used to being argued with. She was after all a British Aristocrat
and it was time she acted like one. Saira stopped with her, then mirrored Abigail
by putting her hands on her hips as well. She frowned at the Scholar.

“Abigail, I do not think that is a really good idea,” Saira
said slowly. “Devi, our engineer, does not like outsiders there. Hell, she does
not like most crew in
her
engine room.” Abigail was clearly not to be
moved.

“I believe I understand,” she said implacably. “I do not
enjoy others in my laboratory. But it appears something is occurring with the
Tesla Engines, and this whole ship could be in danger.” She changed her tone,
raising a hand in supplication, “Truly, Saira, this is what I have spent my
whole life in the study of, please let me help.”

Saira had opened her spirit such she was aware that not only
was the English woman speaking what she felt to be true, but that
this
was a moment where destinies converged. It wasn’t often that she felt destiny
tapping her on the shoulder, but this was one of them. The Spirits were saying
that the Englishwoman was right. When the Spirits spoke it was as well that she
listened. This was also likely going to get her in a lot of trouble with any
number of people though. She sighed.

“Alright,” she said wearily. “But you get to deal with Devi
wanting to have us beheaded.” She looked down at Abigail’s skirts and bustle,
then back up to her face. “Can you even climb a ladder in all that?” Lady
Hadley straightened up.

“I can go where ever you lead,” Abigail replied stoutly.
Saira tried very hard not to let her skepticism show.

“Alright then,” she pointed ahead. “We go down the ladder off
to the left.”

Saira opened a hatch set in the floor in a small alcove just
off the corridor. She yelled down it her voice sounding as if it were going
down a well.

“Ware! She shouted, “Red! I say again. Red Pass!” She looked
up at Abigail. “If you ever hear someone shout that move out of their way
quickly. It means that they are moving in an emergency to save the ship.” She
gestured down the hatchway. “Follow me, and keep up.” The Arms-Master went down
the ladder like grease. Abigail swallowed, and gathered her skirts to follow.
She had difficulty getting the folds through the narrow opening but persevered.
It wouldn’t do to show her private person to everyone as they went by, she
thought to herself.

“Are you coming?” Saira’s voice drifted up impatiently.

When they finally entered the engine ready room, the
discordant bone deep hum of a distressed Tesla engine made hearing next to
impossible. The sound came from behind the doors marked ‘Warning! No ferrous
metal beyond this point!’ Despite the sound, Abigail saw the Captain talking to
a short Hindi looking woman in the rubber apron and gloves of an electric
worker. With the arm waving and gestures the woman made, it was clear that
there was some contention between the two. As they approached, Abigail could
hear the woman shouting over the engines.

“And I tell you that we cannot afford to keep all four
running! The spikes are getting too great to compensate! Would you rather see
Hong Kong in half a month, or an engine room full of melted slag? You cannot
have both!” the woman must have seen them approach out of the corner of her eye
for she whipped around, confronting Saira. “Who is this? Get away with you!
Now, or I’ll have you shot! I’ll have you both shot!”

“Abigail, Lady Hadley, ROS, Electric Energetics!” Abigail
shouted. “How great is your current differential?” she screamed loudly to be
heard over the racket.

“I do not care if you are the Queen Mother!” The woman
shouted back, “You will,” she paused, leaning closer to Abigail. “Did you say,
Abigail Hadley? Not the same one who wrote ‘Polychrome Transducers as a Step
Method’ in Oxford Engineering?’

“Yes, that was me!” Abigail shouted back. The older woman
straightened up.

“That was not half bad for a theory banger!” She shouted in
approval. “Our differential is swinging between 40 and 250 right now. It’s been
increasing by 20 each swing! The bearings on number four are slipping too
much!”

“Wait!” Will shouted, looking between them. “You know her Devi?”
Devi turned on him.

“If she is who she says she is, yes!” Devi shouted. “This is
the woman you picked up from the fight? Why did you not tell me?” Will waved
his hands at her.

“There hasn’t been time!” he shouted back. Abigail shouted
over them both, grabbing Devi’s attention.

“Do you have a variable light clock?” She shouted. Devi waved
her hands in negation.

“No!” She shouted back, “Does this look like a toff
laboratory? No! And why should we need one? It is the bearings I tell you! We
slow the engine down and take it offline!”

“No!” Abigail shouted over the noise, “It could be resonance
skip instead! You can’t slow her without risking a catastrophic cascade!” Devi
looked suddenly very grim.

“Resonance skip?” She shouted back. “Impossible!”