The Space Between (19 page)

Colin nodded. “[That's what I thought.]”

Keeble wondered if they were done. He turned
off the car and climbed out. He stood for a while, looking at them
while they stood looking at the car. Eventually he went and made
some coffee. He made two at first then thought he would probably
make someone angry if he didn't make Mona one as well. So he
collected another cup from the cupboard under the sink and
carefully measured out the brown powder and the sugar. He took the
cups out into the workshop where Colin and Mona were deep in
conversation.

“
[He saved you about three
days work, Colin, you have to give him something.]”

“
[I didn't ask him to do
anything at all, though. I was doing him a favor, remember. Maybe
he was just paying me back.]”

“
[He has no home, nothing
besides what he has on his back, for all we know. A couple of
tenners won't send us bust. Probably a good idea to offer him a
job.]”

“
[A job?]”

“
[Looks like you could sit
back with your feet up and watch.]”

Keeble handed them each a mug and sat on an
overturned metal bucket. He sipped his coffee, boiling hot and
strong, and sighed contentedly. But when he'd finished drinking,
Mona and Colin were still talking. Just like a dwife. Stand around
doing nothing and stop others from working as well. He shook his
head and made his way over to the door.

After spending most of his life in a cave,
he discovered that the sight of the sun in the morning was a
wonderful experience. Such clarity and color. Out in the alley he
looked up between the canyons of the buildings to the piercing blue
of the sky. A scatter of clouds raced for the east.

And there, overtaking them all was a flying
machine. Keeble smiled, hardly able to stop himself from running
after it. Shading his eyes, he watched it go. It was a long way
away but still seemed to move so quickly. It banked to the left,
smoke streaming out behind, and disappeared behind the brown stone
of the workshop. "A flying machine." He rushed back inside.
"Colin."

"
Yes.
"

"Flying machines? How do they work? Do you
have one?"

“
[Sorry?]”

"The flying machines." Keeble stretched his
arms out to either side and sailed about the room, banking from
side to side, bending his knees and stretching up on his toes. "The
flying machines."

“
[Planes?]”

"
Planes. Yes...
" He knew the words.
"
How work?
"

“
[Well, ahhh...]” Colin
scratched at his cheek and stared at the ceiling as if searching
for inspiration. “[That really depends on the plane, Keeble. There
are normal planes, and there are jet planes.]”

Keeble didn't understand
much of that at all, and he decided that he'd never learn if he
relied on Colin to teach him. He would have to find out for
himself. He waved. "
Goodbye.
"

“
[What? No, stay. There's
no need to rush off.]”

"
I
go plane workshop.
" Keeble struggled
through the sentence.

“
[You just got here. Have
another coffee.]”

"
I
want see planes.
" He waved
again.

Mona started searching through the leather
bag she carried over her shoulder. “[At least take this,
Keeble.]”

"
What?
"

“
[It's money.]” She handed
him a small bundle of paper, closing his hand around it
tightly.

Keeble didn't know the word. He shrugged his
shoulders.

“
[It's money,]” Colin said.
Then to Mona: “[Show him a coin, he might know one of
them.]”

The dwife searched through her bag again and
pulled out a small metal disk with a face on one side and another
picture on the other. A coin. So, maybe the paper was money. Keeble
unfolded one of the pieces of paper and examined it. And the same
face was on there. Money it was then.

“
[One of those notes there
will get you a coffee, love.]” Mona pointed at the note Keeble was
examining then pointed to the coffee cup Colin still
held.

Keeble smiled and thanked
them but his mind was already on the planes. "
Planes?
" he asked.

“
[Well, Hucknall Airfield
is,]” Colin pointed, “[that way, I guess. I wish you would stay
though, Keeble. We'll give you a job and all. So you can earn some
more money.]”

"
Planes. Thank you. Goodbye.
" He
hurried out into the street.

Out on the main street, Keeble paused to
look around. He'd forgotten how many dwarves there were, and cars
and things. Everywhere he looked, something was happening.

He could see smoke between two buildings.
Away to the northeast, bats swirled through the air like burnt
leaves. Planes came and went, stitching the sky. But it all seemed
so far away.

Another plane passed silently overhead,
snapping Keeble's attention back to his mission. He wound the gears
to adjust the angles on his hand.

"How far is it to the plane workshops?" he
asked himself. "Which is the best way to go?" He looked one way
along the street, then the other. And both ways looked much the
same. Tall, rough looking buildings. Abnormally tall dwarves. Cars.
He was about to choose a direction at random when a large car with
a sign on top pulled up nearby. He'd seen similar ones before. An
old dwife climbed gingerly out, struggling with a pair of bags and
a walking stick.

Before he could decide where to go, someone
put a hand on his shoulder. He turned to see Mona standing by his
side.

“
[It's only a couple of
miles, but you'd just get lost. I'll give you some money for a
cab.]” She hurried over to the car with the sign and spoke through
the window with the driver. She handed him some money.

“
[Come on. Get
in.]”

Keeble didn't understand a
word of it, but Mona motioned for him to get into the car.
"
What? Why?
"

Mona pointed to the sky
where a plane was racing across the blue. "
Airport,
" she said.
"
Plane.
"

Perhaps the driver was
going to take him to where they kept the planes. The airport.
"
Thank you,
" he
said to Mona as he hurried to climb in the car. He sat on the edge
of the seat, straining to see exactly how it was that the driver
made the vehicle go, the rhythms that gave the actions life. Mona
waved, and he waved vaguely in reply.

Clutch out, fuel down...

He licked his lips and wound the prongs on
his hand in and out. The driver started to talk and didn't stop for
the entire journey. Keeble liked him.

At the airport, Keeble jumped out almost
before the cab came to a halt. He ran across the parking area and
stopped at a high fence, fingers gripping the wire mesh tightly.
Planes were parked nearby, lined up beside a large shed. Keeble
smiled as he looked about for the easiest way in.

"Where's the gate?"

A building filled a break in the fence,
allowing access from the car parking area to area beyond.

"There we go."

Inside, he found himself in a small,
carpeted room. Pictures adorned the walls. One of a plane in
flight. One of what must have been the airport from a plane.
Another of a dozen men in front of three planes. There were some
blue plastic chairs under the photos, and a yellow plant in a large
pot in the corner. A counter took up one end of the room.

He tried a glass door that would lead him
out to the planes.

"Locked." He sighed. The only other visible
door was behind the counter. "I'm probably not allowed back there,
though."

He went to the counter and waited. He could
barely see over the top, but there didn't appear to be anything
worth seeing anyway. He waited some more.

"
Hello?
"

No answer.

There was a sign on the counter with an
arrow pointing to a button. Keeble looked at the sign, looked at
the button, and looked at the sign again. With a shrug, he reached
up and pressed the button. He was rewarded with a wonderful,
mechanical buzzing sound from beyond the door. He left his hand
near the button, his short fingers gripping the edge of the
counter. No response, so he pressed the button again, and once more
a few seconds after that. Finally the door opened and someone
emerged.

A dwife. Always a dwife. Keeble grunted in
disgust.

“
[I'm sorry.]” She paused
for a moment when she saw him. “[I was just on the
phone.]”

"
Phone.
" Keeble said in the local
language. He smiled, holding his hand up to his ear and
nodding.

“
[What can I do for you?
I'm sorry, but with all that's happening we aren't sending any
planes up today. Or anytime soon, probably.]”

"
Plane. Me fix plane. Work good.
"

“
[You... Which plane? What
are you talking about? I would like to help you, sir, but I don't
know what you mean.]”

"
Me...
" Keeble looked at
her.

“
[Yes, I understand the
words you are using, sir, but...]”

"
Fix... plane
."

“
[You're looking for
work?]”

"
Yes. Me work plane. Fix.
"

“
[I'm sorry sir, we aren't
hiring at the moment.]”

Keeble didn't know how to explain to her.
She was a dwife, so how was she to understand? He decided he'd sit
down on one of the blue chairs and wait until a dwarf came so he
could talk to him. Keeble sat down to wait.

“
[I am sorry, sir, but I
think you should leave. We aren't hiring. There are no positions
available.]”

Keeble swung his legs, examining the tip of
each boot in turn as it came into view. Scuffed left, shiny right.
Scuffed left, shiny right. He wondered how his left boot had gotten
into such a terrible condition when his right still looked so
good.

"I'll have to fix that first chance I
get."

“
[If you don't leave, sir,
I'll...]”

Left, right. Left, right. Keeble could have
waited all day, but he didn't have to wait long at all. The dwife
left the room and returned a moment later with a large, bald dwarf.
Keeble recognized him from one of the pictures, though he had
certainly aged since it had been done. He jumped up and shook the
dwarf's hand, smiling.

“
[Good morning, sir. I
believe Tanya asked you to leave. If you don't leave right
away...]”

"
Me fix plane. Work good.
"

“
[All our planes already
work. Now if you could —]”

Keeble dug in his pocket
and pulled out the money Colin and Mona had given him.
"
Me fix plane.
" He
forced the notes into the dwarf's hand.

“
[You want to pay me to let
you fix a plane? What, are you kidding?]”

"
Me watch. Learn. Fix plane.
"

“
[Look, you'd need to pay
me more than twenty three pounds to let you near one of my planes.
All right?]” He put the money pack in the Keeble's hand and ushered
him towards the door. Keeble thought of resisting for a moment,
stating his case again, but he knew it would be useless. He'd have
to try something else. Perhaps when they went home.

13: Tourist

Keeble watched as James tumbled from his
stool and landed in a puddle of ale on the floor. A cheer went up
from those still gathered.

"You lot can't hold your ale," Keeble said.
Nobody understood him, but he thought they got the general idea.
They all cheered again, and Keeble raised his glass to them before
draining away the last of his drink.

He'd been drinking the stuff for almost
three hours and couldn't feel the effects. All that money, and he
might as well have been drinking water. He was just glad he hadn't
paid for most of what he'd drunk. His own money had run out before
he'd wet his palette, but the locals had taken pity on him, strange
foreigner that he was, and kept his wheels lubricated for the rest
of the evening. He'd drunk three of them under the table and was
looking for a fourth.

Keeble had waited by the airport until night
fell and the last cars pulled away from the parking area. Not long
after that, just when he was preparing to go over the fence, he
spotted a uniformed dwarf, much like the one who threw him from the
train. The dwarf wandered lazy, random patrols with a big dog. He
rattled doors and shone a light-stick in windows before moving on
to do it all again. Keeble had decided it wasn't worth the risk and
wandered away, disappointed and wondering what to do.

He'd walked along quiet back streets,
turning left then right and left again, until finding a busy road
and the bar. Since then he'd attempted to drown his sorrows with
little luck.

"If only they could brew a decent ale."

Every tall dwarf he met was hardly a dwarf
at all. They couldn't brew ale. They worked slowly, as if there
were no more jobs to do when there were always more jobs. And they
couldn’t explain the simplest piece of technology. Keeble was
starting to have his suspicions.