Chenda and the Airship Brofman (16 page)

“You make a fine point, my brother. I'm sure we will only be a moment there.”

Fenimore shrugged in tandem with Verdu, and the pair turned as one to escort Chenda and Candice to a house of ill repute.

Inside the Opera House, and already several hands deep into a game of cards, Captain Endicott took a moment to watch the fat man across the table from him start to sweat. Try as he might to bluff, Endicott knew the fellow just didn't have the cards. The man dabbed his balding head with his handkerchief and then folded. “Take it, Max,” he said, and he threw his losing hand onto the pile of cards and money at the center of the table.

“I love taking your money, Jason.” Captain Endicott said, his eyes twinkling.

Jason Belles eyed him pleasantly. “I know I'll get it all back when you pay your docking fee. It usually works out that way between us. How long will you be darkening my door this time?”

“Just for tonight, I'll be heading east before sun-up.” The captain shuffled the cards and offered them to Jason to cut.

Casually, Captain Endicott said, “Maybe you can make an introduction for me. I have a cargo bound for Kotal. I need to hook up with a boat that can take it the rest of the way in. Do you know anyone who is still making runs into the Empire?”

Endicott dealt the cards, and then sat back, listening as the throbbing music picked up speed again in the bar below. It looked like another profitable night for Jason Belles: lots of sweaty guys with money to burn, lots of women ready to sell drinks, dances and whatever else the men could afford. Jason picked up his cards and frowned. “I have a few ideas. Let me think on it a minute.”

“Take your time. I've got all night. Shall we play while you ruminate?”

Jason grunted and threw the first card. Captain Endicott threw a better one and swept up the pair and the anted coins. He threw another coin and another card. Jason frowned and dropped his answering card and another coin. He lost again. The captain pulled another card from his hand and Jason held his finger up, stopping the game. “I'm stinking up the joint tonight. Better to quit before you own my place. I can tell you who you need. There's a Mae-Lyn schooner called the
Tjalk
that makes a run into an inlet about 35 miles northwest of Kotal. I can tell you where it will be two days from now, and that will be just enough time for you to catch up with it. The
Tjalk's
captain is a Tugrulian by the name of Taboda. He and I go way back. I could make an introduction for you, for the right price.”

Endicott smiled. “Or I could just call in my favor. We could be even.”

Shock registered on Jason Belles's face. “You'd let me off the hook for
that
? Just one little introduction? What's the catch?”

“You guarantee your contact. It's paramount you make sure in that introduction letter that you express all seriousness. Tell him that
my
cargo gets where it's going, or
you
will be personally put out with him. I know how much weight you carry around these waters. You can get what you need out of people. What I need is to get my cargo to the shore, safely.”

Jason sat back and rubbed his goatee. “I'm guessing human cargo.”

The captain made a curt nod and waited.

“I'll do it. But you will need to pay Taboda his fee. It will run you 20-thousand or so. I'll put that in the letter as well.” He smiled broadly. “If you'll excuse me, I'll draft that letter right now. I hate to be under your thumb for another minute. I'll send it along to your airship, along with some coordinates.”

“Thank you, Jason. It's always a pleasure to see you.”

Both men stood and shook hands. Jason said, “Don't be a stranger, my friend.”

“We'll be back here in a few weeks, I'm sure,” Endicott promised as Jason Belles walked away.

Chenda stood in the foyer of McNees's Opera House with wide eyes. She had to admit, the place had a unique style. If one wasn't overwhelmed by the thumping music flowing out the door, then the aroma of exotic perfumes and potent liquors surely would finish the job. She hadn't really known what to expect, but the fact that she wasn't completely repulsed surprised her more than a little. There was a strange harmony about the place. The colors, mostly reds and golds, and the textures of all the furnishings enhanced the sounds and smells floating through the air. This place hadn't just happened; she could tell. Considerable thought had gone into every detail. It was warm, embracing, and layered with stimuli. This place existed to make one
feel
.

The small group hadn't been through the door for more than a minute when a pair of outrageously costumed girls in theatrical makeup wiggled under the arms of Fenimore and Verdu. Neither of the men seemed to be surprised or mind. Candice and Chenda looked at each other and closed ranks. Shoulder to shoulder, they followed Fenimore and Verdu, and their sudden companions, to a burgundy banquette upholstered in a rich velvet. The first girl pushed Fenimore into the seat and then sat down next to him, wrapping one of his arms around her shoulders and nuzzling his ear. The other guided Verdu to a free seat down the row. When Verdu sat, she boldly straddled his thighs, pressing her body against his chest.

Candice stopped dead in her tracks and clutched her hand to her chest. “Oh, my!” she said, her voice rising several octaves higher than usual. The ladies realized they were suddenly way out of their comfort zones.

Chenda said, “This may be too much for me. If I blush any more I may catch fire. I think I need a drink.”

“First round's on me, and the quicker the better,” Candice trilled.

The ladies backed away from the young airshipmen as fast as casually possible and sat at a nearby booth, just far enough away that they could still see the men but not have to pay much attention to what the entertainers were doing with them.

“Awkward, yes?” Chenda asked Candice.

“Indeed.”

They flagged down a barmaid and ordered doubles of the house whiskey. Chenda hazarded a peek over to Fenimore and Verdu. The girls were dancing now, and the men watched with matching grins, and nearly vacant eyes.

“Men. So easily distracted. I guess we are on our own now.” Chenda commented.

The drinks arrived. Candice raised her glass to Chenda and said, “We've made it this far!” The professor downed her drink in one fiery gulp. She signaled to the barmaid and said, “Keep 'em coming.”

Chenda took her drink a little more slowly, sorting out her thoughts about her surroundings. “It's coarse, but now that I've had a minute to soak in it, I don't mind. Does that sound strange?”

“I've never been so uncomfortable in all my life!” Candice downed another drink. “Mercy Matilda! If my mother could see me now she'd roll in her grave. Gods get me out of here!”

“I'm sorry, Candice. Let me see if we can get the fellows to take us back to the airship.” She stood to look over at the men, but Candice shushed her and waved her back into her seat.

“Do you think I'm just being a ninny? Those lads don't get to have much of a good time and I just don't think it's fair of me to drag them out of here because I am embarrassed. I'm a grown woman. I can cope. If not, I can drink. I thought I told that barmaid to keep 'em coming!”

 Another round came to the table, and a few minutes after that, Candice relaxed a little. “Nice drinks,” she said, smiling.

“How do they do it, do you suppose?” Candice asked Chenda. “These girls here -- who just slink up to the next guy who walks in the door -- how do you suppose they make love to them?”

“I supposed in the usual way?” Chenda said more as a question than an answer.

“No, no, no. That's not what I meant. How do they separate the feeling of love from the act? How does one put passion into... you know... when one doesn't know the other partner?”

Chenda sighed. “When it comes to relations, I only know what I know, and that was Edison. Our love was not a burning desire, but a steady one.” Chenda bit her lip and then grasped Candice's hand from across the table. “I have to confess something. I've been a bit envious of you. Can you tell me, what was he like when he was young? Was he passionate, lustful? I know I embarrass you with this, but Edison, when we married, was a broken man. When we made love, it was cautiously, a delicate act. Please.” Sadness crept into Chenda's voice. “Tell me what he once was.”

Candice thought carefully about how to respond. She put her free hand on top of Chenda's and stroked it soothingly.

“I think the Edison I knew all those years ago was not so different from yours.” Candice said in little more than a whisper. “He was a vigorous man, and full of energy, as well as kindness and restraint. But let me be clear, I was never his wife. He could plant a kiss that would make your skirts fly up, but he was never such a cad as to go diving under them when he did. He was a gentleman, and respected my virtue.”  Candice smiled. “Not that I didn't pull him close to vice more than once.”

Candice looked into Chenda's surprised eyes and confessed, “It probably would have been easier for me if Edison
had
loved me and left me. I might have gotten over him before this morning.”

“What happened this morning?”

Candice giggled and downed another whiskey, “Captain Endicott made my skirt fly up.”

“WHAT! How did I miss that!”

“Ah, you were in the wheelhouse with Monkey-see and Monkey-do, holding hands.” She giggled again, obviously getting drunker by the minute. “So, wish-y one of them do you fancy?”

Chenda rolled her eyes, suddenly regretting opening this line of discussion.

"Shpeek of the devil," Candice said. Chenda turned her head to see Captain Endicott walking toward them.

“Good evening, ladies. I hope you are enjoying yourselves.” The captain looked all around as he greeted them. He waved at Fenimore and Verdu, who saluted back at him. For as much as they were enjoying the attentions of McNees's ladies, they had been subtly keeping watch over Chenda and Candice as well.

“Mind if I join you? Next round on me?” the captain asked.

“Shirtanly," Candice answered as she patted the bench next to her thigh. Captain Endicott sat down.

“So, what's our topic of conversation tonight?” he asked.

“Skirts,” Chenda said slyly. The drinks made her propriety lax.

“I am fond of the garment myself,” Endicott said with a laugh. “Funny that I've never bothered to own one.”

“Chenie-chen-chen here was just about to tell us which of your crewmen will turn her head.”

“Oh, that's easy,” Endicott said. “Neither.”

Chenda gave a relieved look to the captain as he continued. “Not any time soon.”

He looked appraisingly at the professor. “Now, Candice, I believe we need to take you out into the fresh air, and walk you around a while before you head back to my airship, because, my dear lady, if you barf up there again, I'm pitching you over the side.”

“Shtinker,” Candice said with a pout.

He hooked his arm around Candice's waist and hauled her to standing. Candice sagged a bit toward the captain. Fenimore and Verdu, now prostitute-free, appeared at Captain Endicott's side. “Shall we help you, sir?” Fenimore asked.

“No, no. Candice and I were just going for a bit of a walk. I'll get her back to the
Brofman
. Please look after the young lady, won't you? Enjoy yourselves.” He turned to leave, dragging Candice along.

“Yes, sir,” Verdu said to the retreating pair. The men sat down across from Chenda, who gave the men a cross look. “What? Done so soon?” she said tartly. “Those girls seemed to move pretty fast, but I thought the two of you would take longer.”

They shrugged in unison. “They only let you sample so much for free. The rest you have to pay for,” Verdu said.

“And we make it a point never to pay for it,” Fenimore said. “But the samples
are
really a treat. Don't you agree?”

“Oh, I don't know,” Verdu said. “They smell nice, but it stings a little that they lose all interest when they realize you won't be paying. They just drop you like a dead fish.”

Chenda frowned at the pair. “Disgusting,” she said.

“Probably,” the two men said as one.

Chenda finished her drink and dug a few coins out of her pouchbelt. “I've experienced this as much as I care to.”

“Off we go,” Fenimore said.

Chenda made a beeline toward the exit before Fenimore and Verdu could even stand. She realized halfway to the door just how much she misjudged her own alcohol consumption. She sagged sideways, brushing into a burly redheaded fellow sitting in an overstuffed arm chair. Before she knew what was happening, the man reached his arm around her waist and pulled her down, laying her backwards across his lap and the arm of the chair.

“Oh, yes,” he said in the most salacious way possible. “You'll do.” He slid his hand from her ribs up to her breast, giving it a playful slap.

In the next second, Chenda felt herself being scooped out of the man's lap. She watched as a big, dark fist made sudden and meaningful contact with the burly man's nose. Verdu. She looked up at who was carrying her toward the door. Fenimore. They were quite a team.

Fenimore kept trotting along with Chenda in his arms until they were out of McNees's and several hundred yards down the narrow street. As her feet touched the ground, she looked back and saw Verdu laughing as he caught up.