Chenda and the Airship Brofman (5 page)

“Good Morning, ma’am,” she said. “Breakfast? Cup of tea?”

“Yes, and toast please” Chenda said, “I'll take it in Edison's study, thank you.” She walked across the foyer, but turned back to Alme.

“Also, I have several things I need from Lilienthal's Aerofitters. Would you send Daniel there with this list and ask him to wait while they fill it? I want these things right away.” Out of her pocket, she pulled the short list Candice had drawn up of necessary items for an airship journey, and handed it to Alme. Chenda continued into the study.

She stopped at the first bookcase she passed and started looking for any books that had anything to do with The Tugrulian Empire. There were several tomes on the military struggle between the Empire and the Republic. As she worked her way around the room, her search turned up a variety of books on Tugrulian culture, government and agriculture. Finally, she found a small book entitled
Life under the
Dia
Orella: the One God of the Tugrulian Empire
.

She flipped through the pages. The dearth of information about the Tugrulians’ lone god and the sacred temple, the Dia Orella, surprised Chenda. The book recorded the various tales merchants brought back from the Empire, and the accounts were just a collection of rumors. Some had heard that the Tugrulian sacred writings were kept guarded in the temple at the Kotal, but no westerner, and most of the Tugrulians themselves, had ever read the words of their God or seen the inside of the Dia Orella.

Chenda sighed. The chapter on ceremonies didn't say much either. She found no discussion of
Singing Stones.
None of the other books seemed to mention the word
pedradurite
either. As Chenda continued to read, she began to understand a bit about what life was like in Tugrulia. Their whole society was shaped by nearly unending war. With their agricultural land burned and poisoned, Tugrulians had taken much of their life below ground. There, they propagated a wide variety of fungi, mosses and algae. Much of their protein came from the cave dwelling lizards, bugs and fish raised in underground ponds, or caught in the Kohlian Sea.

Chenda looked up from her book as Alme brought the breakfast tray to Edison's desk.

“Daniel is on his way to town, ma’am,” she said. “You will have your things in just a few hours.” Alme paused in the doorway, and looked back at her young mistress with a worried and motherly gaze.

“If you don't mind me saying, ma’am,” Alme started, “I am surprised you didn't go to shop for yourself. You always seemed to like visiting the shops personally.”

“Not anymore,” Chenda said, turning back to her reading. “Please let me know when Daniel returns.”

Chenda spent the remainder of the morning making a mental list of important facts about the Tugrulians and their Empire. Several sources categorized the men as fierce or warlike, and aggression seemed to be a cultural trait. Tugrulian society isolated women, and most remained uneducated and abused. Women were expected to produce beautiful children for their husbands, and be servile to the needs of all men. In general, the Tugrulians had dusky skin, dark eyes and straight, shiny black hair. For the men, beards and mustaches were very unfashionable, and long hair was acceptable on both men and women, often braided into or twisted around various caps or head wrappings. Tugrulian clothing was loose and layered, meant to be protection from both the hot days and cold nights. Tugrulians favor a variety of acid colors that are produced by the chemicals brought up from deep underground or from various colorful bugs.

Fascinating,
thought Chenda,
but, does any of this help me?

At mid-day, Alme knocked again and slipped into the study.

“Is Daniel back from Lilienthal's?” Chenda asked.

“Yes, ma’am. Just arrived.”

Alme followed Chenda into the foyer as Daniel entered, carrying a large, paper-wrapped bundle.

“Excellent,” Chenda said. “I'm glad you're back so quickly. I'll need to go out this afternoon for several errands. I'll be ready to go in just a moment, but, first, would you take that package to my room, please?”

Chenda began to turn back toward the study, but stopped when she noticed Daniel standing perfectly still, his eyes wide. Alme stepped forward to explain.

“Daniel's doesn't know where to go, ma’am. He's never been in the house past the foyer, apart from the day that he was hired by Mr. Frost.”

“No? I thought all the house staff gathered in the kitchens whey they weren't on duty.”

“I keep to the garage, ma’am. It's my place to be there.” Daniel said.

“It's no trouble,” Alme interjected. “I'll show him where to go and have him back in a jiff.”

Alme led Daniel up the stairs, leaving Chenda to her thoughts. She went into the study and retrieved the small black velvet bag from the secret compartment in Edison's desk and tucked it into the front of her blouse, right over her heart, for safe keeping. She told herself she wanted to keep the stones close at hand in case Candice needed them for some reason, but that was just a lie she chose to believe. The truth was, she felt that, at best, these stones may have been the last thing Edison had touched in this world, and at least, they were the last gift he wanted her to have. Either way, it made them special to her.

She smoothed the front of her blouse and returned to the foyer. Daniel and Alme were already waiting beside the open front door. Daniel dashed down the elegant steps to open the car door for his mistress.

“Where to, ma’am?” he asked.

“The heart of Coal City, Daniel. I'll need to see Edison's attorney and then visit the bank. After that I have an appointment at the University.”

Daniel made a quick, acknowledging nod and then closed the door.

Chenda settled into her seat as the car steadily moved toward town. She worried about being swept up in a crush of onlookers as she had been the day before, but, she made all of her errands quickly and, to her relief, unnoticed.

When she arrived at the campus of Kite's Republic University, she felt more at ease with her surroundings. Chenda was eager to hear any new developments the professor had made for their plan to go abroad. She quickly climbed the steps of the university science building, only to find Candice standing in the hallway, staring at her closed office door.

“What are you doing out here?” asked Chenda. Without answering, Candice leaned forward and pushed open her office door. Chenda stepped as if to enter the room, but the professor caught her arm.

“Smell that?” she asked. Chenda sniffed the air. It was subtle, like the smell of a bakery from across the street. There was just a hint of sticky sweetness in the air. Candice pulled the door closed.

“Someone has been in my office, and they weren't snooping for a mid-term. That's the smell of Orellanine. It's a concentrated toxin, one that absorbs though the skin. A powerful poison, but a slow one. It takes about three weeks to kill you. I'm thinking there's nothing I need in my office today, not badly enough to die for it, anyhow. Shall we go?”

Chenda turned her stunned eyes to her companion, “Why would someone poison your office?”

Candice locked her door from the outside. “I think someone is trying to kill me, or maybe you. I'm not sure, but most likely it has something to do with your stones.” Candice snorted, “I mean, most of the faculty just leave nasty notes under the door when
they
have a problem, and the students generally don't go through all the effort to boil up an exotic toxin if you flunk 'em.”

Chenda looked at her companion with wide eyes and said, “Someone tries to kill you and you tell jokes?”

“They could be trying to kill
you
, don't forget. It's either laugh or cry about it, and I just don't have any tears in me today. We've got too much to do.” She turned and walked down the corridor waving for Chenda to follow.

“Speaking of, we've got a meeting in a few minutes with the captain of the airship
Brofman
, Henrietta has found us our ship.”

Daniel's eyes widened with surprise when the ladies directed him to their next destination, the seedy area known as Elly's Quay. Quickly remembering himself, and his position, he rearranged his features into dutiful neutrality. With his usual quickness and care, he drove Candice and Chenda to a grimy bar where proper ladies, in his opinion, ought not be.

As he opened Chenda's door, he spoke to her in hushed tones. “With your permission, ma’am, I'd like to linger
inside
the door, rather that out here by the car.” It was more of a demand than a request. “It's a rough kind of place that your new friend is bringing you to, and I have my doubts...” his voice trailed off.

Chenda made a tiny nod of her head. As she followed Candice through the door held open by Daniel, she felt ashamed of her own cowardice. Her better judgment warred with her resolve. How could she journey to a land that violently rejected people from her world when she couldn't even find the courage to walk confidently within her own city? Where was her courage? Doubt and fear started to chip away at her resolution to follow Edison's instructions.

Once they were all inside, Daniel lingered at the door, resting his back against one wall while he casually looked around at the nearly empty pub. Shadows obscured most of the tables in the malodorous and dim room. The ambiance promised that one would not be able to see much more than the outline of any other patron. Seclusion was the specialty of the house.

The women crossed a tiny open area in the center of the room and seated themselves at a solid yet filthy table. From her seat, Chenda could just make out the torso of a man leaning against the bar. His face was obscured by shadows, but she could tell he was of average height, but thickly built. He wore heavy, thick soled leather boots and thick canvas pants held up by dark leather braces. His white shirtsleeves were rolled up to his elbow. Every so often, his massive hand lifted a pint from the bar to the shadow surrounding his head. The occasional turn of his torso led Chenda to believe that the man was watching her. After a few moments, he picked up his drink and turned toward Chenda's table. His step into the dim light revealed his clean-shaven face and a head of dark hair touched with gray over his ears. He tipped the glass upward, downing the remains of his drink in one gulp, and walked over to the two ladies. His presence filled the space in front of them, and he asked in a throaty voice, “Are you Henrietta's friend?”

“Yes, I'm Professor Candice Mortimer, and you are...?”

“Endicott,” he said, “Maxwell Endicott, Captain of the airship
Brofman
.” The man eased himself onto the edge of the empty seat closest to Chenda, but he kept his focus on the professor.

“A pleasure to meet you, Captain Endicott.” Candice leaned in slightly. “We are in need of an airship. We'd like to spend several weeks surveying the waters over the Mid-Sea Ridge. Would you be interested?”

“I'm interested,” he smiled, “But Henrietta Hoppingood asked me to come here as a favor to her, and she doesn't like to owe people favors if she can help it. From what I gather, you don't need a research airship. You need something that
looks
like a research airship. So, where are we really going?”

Candice glanced at Chenda and then said. “Kotal. Can you get us there?”

Endicott laughed, a great, room-filling bark. “No,” he said, still chuckling. “I can't get you to Kotal.” Chenda's heart sank, but the captain continued, “I can, however, get you close.”

Chenda spoke for the first time since entering the pub. “Define
close
.”

Endicott turned his sparkling gray eyes toward Chenda. “It's not as if I could dock a Republic airship at the front door of the Imperial Palace, doll. I'm just saying that I can get you -- closer than you are right now - for the right price.” He turned his attention back to Candice. “Who's she?” he said, jerking a thumb at Chenda.

“My assistant,” Candice said, waving her hand as if Chenda ranked just below luggage in importance for the trip. She appreciated that the professor was leaving her name out of the discussion. “It will just be the two of us for this journey,” Candice said.

“Two passengers. Fair enough. You call it research, if you want, but I call it bonkers. Then again, who am I to judge. I don't really much care about your reasons or your destination. What I
do
care about is flying, and getting paid.”

Candice smiled. “Then I guess what we need to do next is agree on a price.”

As the captain and the professor began to work out the details of expectations and payment, Chenda sat back and tried to examine Maxwell Endicott with an assessing eye. She came up with no insights. She sighed quietly as she realized that she had no ability to judge other people's character. To this point in life, she had no need. Edison had been her prime companion for half her life, and she never questioned his motives. As for the Sisters of St. Elgin, well, who needed to spend time assessing the rectitude of Holy Sisters?

She tried again to recognize either virtues or warnings in the behavior of Captain Endicott. She watched carefully as Candice and the captain traded offers and counteroffers, alternating the attitude and position of their bodies. First Candice would lean into the table and whisper a number, then she would retreat back as the captain laughed off her proposal and presented another, himself leaning in to the table. It reminded her of a pair of exotic birds she has once seen living in an ornate cage in a shop on High Road. Sharing a perch, the first bird would step sideways and the second would follow. They would waggle side by side, never touching, calling back and forth to one another, then reversing the steps back up the perch. She had been fascinated then, as she was now, with the complex trade of sounds and movements, the give and take.