Steamed (3 page)

I closed my eyes for a moment before shaking my head. “Which charity?”

“Now, don’t you get that tone of voice,” she said, adopting a defensive attitude. She shook the canister at me as she spoke. “I know what you think about my charities, but this one is fabulous, Jack, just fabulous. It’s for care and rehabilitation of released parakeets.”

I was so surprised by what she said, I stopped worrying about whether the top had been loosened on the helium. “Released
what
?”

“Parakeets! Do you have any idea how many parakeets each year are shoved out of their homes and left to fend for themselves? Hundreds, Jack! Hundreds and hundreds of poor little innocent birdies just tossed out the window, and they have no idea how to forage for food, or where to sleep, or even where to live. It’s a horrible, senseless tragedy, and we at the People for Humane Treatment of Parakeets are doing what we can to try to rescue parakeets, and rehome them with good people who will take care of them.”

Hallie always had a cause. Ever since she was a little girl, she had been a joiner of causes. When she grew up, she had taken to throwing herself wholeheartedly into whatever cause appealed to her at the moment.

“What happened to that group you belonged to that was supposed to knit sweaters for hairless dogs who lived in animal shelters?”

“Oh, that fell apart months ago,” she said, twisting the lid of the canister again. “We couldn’t decide on whether mohair or acrylic yarn was best. This group is totally rock solid, Jack. And you like animals!”

“That doesn’t mean I want to be sold into slavery on their behalf. What did you sell me for?”

“Five hundred dollars! Can you believe it? No one else’s husband or brother went for as much. It was a shame you couldn’t be there to model yourself, but I took that picture of you that was in the paper that time you and Jeff Sawyer were in Mexico, and you rescued him from being disemboweled by crazed Mayans.”

I sighed to myself again. It was pretty sad when my own sister refused to listen to me.

“Anyway, everyone loved that picture, and lots of ladies bid on you, only Linda won, and that’s so perfect because she’s just the woman I would pick out for you. She’s smart and she likes the things you like, and she paid
five hundred dollars
just to spend some time with you.”

“I wasn’t asking how much she spent; what services of mine has she won?” I asked suspiciously.

“Oh, well, that’s up to Linda,” she said, waving the canister at me.

“Stop shaking that!” When I realized what she was doing, I jumped to my feet and lunged toward her in the hopes of getting the canister before it blew up.

“Now, I know you’re a bit peeved that I sold you without telling you, but really, it’s for a very good cause—” Hallie skirted the lab table, keeping just out of my reach as she pleaded with me.

I cut her short, worried about her safety. “No, you idiot! The lid is off and you’re shaking the canister. It’s very volatile!”

“This?” She looked down at the helium. “It’s just a thermos of coffee. How can coffee be volatile?”

“It’s not coffee—it’s liquid helium.”

“Helium?” She held the canister up as if she could see through the stainless steel walls. “What on earth are you doing with helium?”

“We use it to cool the core of the chip when it’s being tested. Now set it down very carefully.”

“Oh, like canned air? I use that all the time at home on my stereo. I like the way the bottle frosts up when you use it for a while. You’re not mad at me about the auction, are you?” she said with sublime unawareness of what she held. She reached for the lid, jamming it down on top of the canister.

“My emotions at this moment are rather indescribable,” I said, moving around to take the canister from her.

“Stupid thing won’t go on,” she grumbled, trying to force the lid on, but the inner valve had been jostled and was out of position enough to keep the lid from screwing on properly.

“Just set it down, Hallie, and I’ll deal with it.”

“Maybe it’s got an air bubble or something that’s keeping it from closing properly.” She tossed aside the top, right on top of the circuit I had been finishing. Several tiny LED lights lit up, indicating the computer’s brain was receiving power.

“No!” I yelled, lunging for her. Just as my hand closed around hers, she flipped up the valve, sending liquid helium boiling out to the circuit below. Hallie snatched at the precious circuit, obviously to save it from being harmed, but it was too late. A brilliant silver light filled my mind as she grabbed the circuit board. In the dim distance, I could hear voices talking, but couldn’t make out what they were saying. The light expanded until it seemed to fill the room, filling me with a soothing, calming presence.

Hallie screamed as the light erupted around and through and inside me.

 

“
C
ap’n Pye! Cap’n Pye!” “The word is ‘captain,’ Dooley. We are not pirates, nor are we yokels who cannot expend the extra effort to pronounce words correctly, and judging by the nonstop chatter I hear from you in the mess, I am reassured you have the vocal capacities to do so. Yes, I see it now, Mr. Mowen. The valve to the left of the intake cylinder, isn’t it? It’s cracked, you think?”

“Aye, Captain.”

I sat back on my heels after examining the valve in question. Cracked, my three-legged uncle. It was no more cracked than I was.

“Captain Pye, Mr. Piper, he says you’re to come to the forward hold immediately!” Young Dooley fairly danced with agitation as he spoke, but that was nothing new. Dooley was a quicksilver sort of lad, always moving or talking, apparently unable to sit still for even the shortest amount of time. In a way, he reminded me of a hummingbird I’d seen in the emperor’s aviary, for Dooley flitted and dived around the ship just as the hummingbird had done in the high-domed aviary.

“Can you fix the valve, Mr. Mowen?” I asked the chief engineer, fully confident of an affirmative answer. “Or will we need to land at Lyon?”

“An unauthorized landing?” Mr. Mowen looked scandalized at the thought. “That would put us off schedule, lass. Er . . . Captain.”

“Captain Pye—” Dooley tugged at the sleeve of my new scarlet-red Aerocorps jacket.

I quelled both the tugging and the excited dancing with a look, one I had honed on lesser crew members for a decade. “I will be with you in a moment, Dooley. Mr. Mowen has my attention now.”

“But Mr. Piper said you must come quick—”

“Mr. Piper would never condone your interrupting an important discussion about the ability of the
Tesla
to fly, Dooley. You have delivered your message, and may return to your duties.” I spoke in what I hoped was an authoritative, yet kindly, tone. I didn’t want to be perceived as an ogre to the crew, not on this, my first assignment. Yet the seven other individuals on board must acknowledge my position of command, or it would all end badly. Firm but tempered, that was the key.

“But, Cap’n—”

Mr. Mowen watched me with interested, somewhat amused eyes. He was waiting to see how I handled the overexcited teen who was the bosun’s mate, no doubt curious to see whether I would let him ruffle me. Ah, but had he known I had long since lost that ability . . .

“You have duties, Dooley, do you not?”

“Aye, miss. Cap’n.
Captain.
I’m to be cleaning the galley, then tending to the boilers as Mr. Mowen likes.”

“You are excused to attend to your duties.”

Dooley responded to the voice of authority, reluctantly tugging on his smart black cap as he left the cramped quarters of the aft boiler room. “Aye, aye, Captain.”

“That wasn’t nearly so bad as you thought, now, was it?” Mowen asked with the hint of a smile beneath his big salt-and-pepper walrus mustache.

“Not at all, and how did you guess?” I asked, a little surprised by the perspicacity in the older man’s eyes. “Is it that obvious that I was expecting such a test?” One of several that were laid all ready for me, no doubt.

“I’ve been sailing the skies betwixt Rome and London long enough to see a full score of captains come and go,” he answered, his eyes now twinkling with amusement. “The first run is always entertaining, with the crew watchful, waiting to see what sort of man the company has saddled us with.”

I glanced at him, curious as to the meaning behind his words. “I can’t believe that no one from the Aerocorps told you anything about me. I received a dossier on the crew; surely you had something about me?”

“It wasn’t so much a dossier as it was a note telling us that you were taking command of the ship.”

I waited, sure there was more to come.

There was. “Mr. Francisco has a mate in the Corps offices, and he told us a bit more about you. He said you were a woman, which we’d guessed from your name, that you had red hair and brown eyes—not that it matters, you understand, but Mr. Francisco, as you might have noticed, has a bit of passion for redheaded ladies, so he was particularly overjoyed about that bit of information—that you joined the Corps when you were sixteen, and have been in it just as many years, and that you have some friends in high places.”

My brows rose just a smidgen. “The Aerocorps files say that?”

“Ah, well . . .” Mr. Mowen slid me a sidelong look. “Perhaps that was my own speculation.”

“Indeed.” I made my voice as neutral as possible. “On the whole, that is an accurate summation. I hope the crew will not be disappointed with me.”

“Time will show,” he said, nodding, idly rubbing a spot of grease on his cuff. “Good or bad, there’s naught we can do but accept.”

“Oh, I imagine there are all sorts of things a crew could do to make an unwanted captain feel less than welcome,” I answered, deliberately keeping my tone light. “Food that is oddly inedible when compared to the crew’s fare, unpleasant surprises of the insect and rodent nature to be found in the captain’s bed, repeated rousing during the sleeping hours to examine strangely malfunctioning equipment that was sound only a few hours before . . . Yes, I have heard of such dealings, and imagine it would be quite easy for a dedicated crew to take care of an unpopular captain.”

Mr. Mowen gave me a long look. I allowed myself a little smile, at which he relaxed. “True enough, Captain, true enough.”

“I trust that this valve, which strangely appears to have been wrenched to the side and thus is no longer seated properly rather than cracked, can be returned to its proper position without delay, Mr. Mowen.” A light of respect shone briefly in his eyes. I waved away his offer of help as I rose to my feet, dusting off my long navy wool skirt and the edges of my knee- length jacket. “I also expect there will be no further tests to determine if I am familiar with the workings of an airship steam engine and boilers. I assure you I am.”

The engineer saluted me. “And right glad I am to hear it, ma’am. It’s about time the
Tesla
had a captain who understood her.”

“Even one who is female, Mr. Mowen?” I couldn’t help but ask as I made my way along the narrow metal catwalk.

He replied after a few moments of silence. “I would be prevaricating if I was to say that, Mr. Francisco aside, we did not have concerns about having a lass as a captain.”

We reached the gangway. I gave the engineer a considering look. I had expected a token amount of resistance when I took over as captain, but surely in these enlightened times no one could protest the fact that I was a woman. “There are several female captains in the Southampton Aerocorps, Mr. Mowen. It is not at all uncommon.”

“Aye, but those captains are limited to domestic routes. You are the first we’ve heard of taking command of an international route.”

“An oversight on the part of the Aerocorps, I’m sure. I served for several years under Captain Robert Anstruther, and he, as you might know, commanded the largest passenger airship to travel the empire. I am quite familiar with both the routes and the duties of a captain, even those that fall under the domain of a small cargo transport, such as the
Tesla
.”

“Captain Anstruther will be well missed,” Mowen said, his face now somber. “Those damned Black Hand revolutionaries have much to answer for, killing as fine a captain as ever sailed the skies.”

“Indeed they do,” I answered, squaring my shoulders at the pain that always followed the memory of Robert Anstruther’s last hours.

“You knew him well, did you?” Mowen asked, watching me closely.

I made an attempt to present a serene expression. “I did. He was my guardian, and a very great man. I consider him my father.”

The engineer’s eyebrows rose above the steel rims of his spectacles. “Then I am sorry for your loss, Captain.”

I acknowledged his sympathy, the pain that rose at the memory of Robert’s sacrifice a familiar burden. “I was given into his care when I was very young, and both he and his wife treated me as if I was their own child. I miss them very much.”