Chenda and the Airship Brofman (40 page)

Chenda clenched her teeth to reply. “Do I look like sailor to you? Speak plainly!”

Fenimore chuckled and said, “You say you have had us heading due west, right? Focus your attention mostly to the right as we go along. That's where the hole in the sea will appear. Relatively speaking, Crider Island is very close to the Tugrulian coast - only about 65 miles or so.”

“Speaking of points of the compass,” he said, “How do you know which direction we are heading?”

“Oh, I have a compass in my pocket.” Chenda said.

“Have you been looking at it in the dark?” Fenimore pursued.

“Well no, I can just hear it pointing north. Don't ask.”

“I find that strangely intimidating,” he said.

“Get over it,” Candice said. “Now, more on Crider Island. What's it like?”

“Oh, it's nice. It's got beautiful sienna beaches and smugglers love it, since it’s  practically inside the Empire, and it's the kind of place where lots of deals go down. Like Atoll Belles, it's neither Tugrulian nor Republic, and both nations know that the other would start a war if one pushed to control it. It's got several airship piers, but they are high up the mountain. They've got an interesting incline system to transport cargo to and from the airslips and boat docks. I've been there several times, and I know a few people there who can help us if we are too late to meet the
Brofman
....”

Fenimore sat distracted then, thinking of all the details to attend to once they reached Crider Island and praying to any god that could hear that Captain Endicott's airship would still be there. His worries piled up. Where should they try to come ashore? When? How should he contact the
Brofman
without drawing attention? How many Tugrulian spies would be on the lookout for them on the island? If they miss the
Brofman
, what should they sell to secure accommodations? If the gods smile, and they reach the airship, what would he tell the captain and crew about Verdu? Verdu. What about Verdu? What was that ridiculous scene he made with Chenda back at the warehouse?

“How could he do that?” Fenimore said mostly to himself.

“Are you fretting over Verdu staying behind?” Candice asked.

“Um, yes,” Fenimore lied.

“I think he knows what he is doing but-” Candice said.

Chenda interrupted, “This is a topic that is rather distracting, and I would much rather focus on the matter at hand, especially as I feel my abilities are highly taxed at the moment. Please, I beg you, let us discuss this at another time.”

“Of course,” Fenimore agreed too quickly. He intended to never bring up the topic again.

“So,” Candice asked, searching for any topic to break the tension, “How fast are we moving?”

“It's hard to say,” Chenda replied. “I know we are moving faster than if we were just drifting along, but not nearly as fast as the patrol boat that just passed over us.”

“That would put us in the range of six-eight miles an hour,” Fenimore said, sounding impressed. “Do you think that you can keep pushing us along for eight or ten hours?”

Chenda bit her lip. “Probably. Do I have a choice?”

“Will we have enough air?” Fenimore asked Candice.

“Maybe,” she replied. “How close will the Tugrulian patrols get to Crider Island?”

“Close, and possibly on,” Fenimore said.

“Probably, maybe, possibly, close. I love a little certainty in life.” Candice quipped. She rested her back against one side of the pickle tub and stretched her legs out on the other side, reclining as much as the diameter of the tube would allow. “Well, it looks as if we have several more hours to kill, and much oxygen to conserve. I think I will take a nap if no one has any objections.”

“Go right ahead,” Chenda replied.

Candice threw an arm over her eyes and, in moments, was breathing softly and evenly, sound asleep.

Chenda sighed. “Fen, if you want to drop off as well, I can handle the ship.” She chuckled slightly.

Fenimore, who had been resting with his back against the pickle tub's lid, slowly slid forward on his knees to where Chenda sat in the middle of the metal tube, her back to him and legs crossed.

“I'd rather talk, if it's not too distracting,” he said.

“Sure," she said. “Can we sit back to back? I'd like to lean up against something. I'm starting to ache.” Fenimore turned, and Chenda leaned into him. “Better?” he asked.

Much,
she thought at him.

Minutes passed in silence, neither of them moving.

For a man who wants to talk, you aren't saying much.

“
I noticed that myself,” Fenimore whispered. “I have things I want to say. But I know that when I do, it will sound comprehensively wrong. I think, on those matters, I may just prefer to keep silent.”

I think I understand. How about I do some of the talking for you, and you can just agree if I get close to the right words?

“
We can try that, I guess.”

Verdu is on your mind, yes?

“In many ways.”

Don't be angry with him. Once Pranav Erato was gone, someone had to close us in here. He felt strongly that he had more he wanted to give back in Tugrulia. It was like a calling to him. Don't hold it against him.

“I'm not angry about that,” Fenimore said softly.

You're upset that he kissed me.

Fenimore moaned. “Yes.”

Fen, don't be. I'm not.

“Do you love him?” Fenimore nearly choked on the question.

How do I answer that? What kind of person would I be not to love someone who has sacrificed for me the way he has? You all have? You, Verdu and Candice. The gods themselves tied you three to me, and I to you. I love you all, deeply and forever. But...

“But?”

Verdu, like you, I suspect, fell IN
love with me.

Chenda let the thought hang in silence, and then she asked.
Did I guess that right? Are you in love with me?

The quietest word in the history of forever escaped Fenimore's lips, “Yes.”

The words bubbled out of him in a quiet panic, as if he could negate the truth of his most recent word by quickly adding a hundred more. “Ah, see, here's the part that I worried about coming out all wrong. I really hate not being able to explain, you see, because, crap, Verdu, my best friend, my brother? How can I be jealous of how he feels when I'm right there with him, and he -”

STOP!
Chenda shouted into Fenimore's head. He pulled his lips together tightly and covered his face with his hands. He radiated embarrassment. If Fenimore hadn't been in a dark metal tube 20 feet under water, he would have been running as fast as his feet would carry him.

Just... listen for a minute. Remember when I nearly drowned, and I had my vision, you know, with Edison? I told you then everything relevant to you, but there was more, and I think it will help you understand. He told me something else that day; well, he showed me, really. He said that I was the love of his life, but he was not the love of mine. I needed to look for it. He showed me the feeling that would let me know I had found the passion – the true love the gods had set aside for me...

“
Oh,” Fenimore said in sudden realization. “The yummy noises?”

Yes.
Chenda blushed. She was grateful he could not see her face, too.

I think the gods clued Edison in to my destiny, that it was going to have costs and rewards. He wanted to make sure I didn't get lost in the loneliness and the pain of being the Pramuc. We've seen so much suffering. But the promise of finding the love of my life, it's kept me going through the really hard parts, the responsibility, the heads on the pikes, finding my mother and then losing her again, even the plain, bone weariness. I need something to live for.

“So,” Fenimore asked sheepishly, “it's Verdu, then?”

Chenda laughed sorrowfully inside.
Are you sure you want to hear about this?

“I have to know...”

Well, kissing Verdu was nice, very enjoyable. He's rather good at it, I think. But no, he's not the one. I'm grateful we tried, but knowing that my counterpart is out there, I can't in good conscience mark time with Verdu. So, no, he is not the one I am looking for.

Fenimore didn't realize he had been holding his breath until Chenda delivered her verdict, then he let it all out in a rush, muttering, “Oh, thank the gods.”

You were set to be monstrously jealous, weren't you?
Chenda said in a teasing tone.

“Who, me? No,” Fenimore lied with a slight chuckle. “What now?”

I think I am going to have to wait until you summon up the courage to kiss me yourself, then I will know if you are the man I'm searching for.

Fenimore slid sideways, pulling his back slowly away from Chenda's and twisting his torso to bring his face closer to her ear. “Kiss you...,” he whispered, his breath tickling her. “Hmm. Not just yet. But I'm going to take your words as an invitation.”

He slowly and gently stroked his finger down the nape of her neck, sending a shiver down her spine. “If I only get one shot at convincing you that I could be the right one, I want to be sure there are no distractions, and perhaps someplace a little less... pickle tub.”

“Fair enough,” she said aloud. “But the way the gods laugh about these things, I doubt it really matters.”

Fenimore settled his back against hers again. “Well, it matters to me. I'm a traditionalist: mood, moment, whatnot.”

Chenda sighed and pushed the little tube along in silence for a moment.

Fen?

“Yes, Chenda.”

I don't want you to take this the wrong way, but I love it when you touch me.

“How could one possibly take that the wrong way?”

I don't want it to sound like a promise or something. I don't want to set you up to get hurt or confuse anything. Sitting here with you, I don't know really what the connection is or if it means anything. But I believe I'm safe when I feel you there beside me.

“Maybe that's why I'm your soldier, and not your saint.”

Let's not talk about Verdu for now, okay? It's just too painful.  I miss him already.

“I couldn't agree more.” Fenimore turned around, and sat on his heels. He scooted forward until he had a knee to each side of Chenda's hips. He rested his hands on her waist; she shivered again. “Is this too distracting?”

No, not yet.

He slid his hands forward until they passed over her midsection, pulling her back against his chest. He rested his cheek against her hair. “Feeling safer?”

Uh-huh.

“All right then, I won't let go,” he said, brushing his lips against her ear and across the back of her neck.

Ahhh...

He held her there in the quiet darkness for hours, never moving. Chenda found that with Fenimore's arms around her, concentrating on the slow release of her power into the water surrounding them was less tedious. The touch of his skin grounded her body, while her mind worked endlessly to measure out a precise and steady stream that pushed the little makeshift submarine along. That, and he smelled so nice.

Candice eventually awoke and looked to her companions on the other side of the sparking make-shift oxygen generator.

“Awkward,” Candice said. “I have the sudden feeling I should be someplace else, but can't seem to find an exit.”

Fenimore laughed, but didn't let go of Chenda. “He's anchoring me,” she said aloud.

“Oh, so THAT's what the kids are calling it these days,” Candice said under her breath. “Are we there yet?”

“Almost,” Chenda said. “I think I see the hole in the sea that I have been looking for. Does Crider Island have a bit of peninsula that points to the southeast?”

“Yes, that's it!” Fenimore gave Chenda a squeeze. “You are brilliant!”

“I'm just glad it's the island we are looking for, because we are going to have to stop there no matter what. I'm almost completely tapped out - of the gods-given power and my own.” Chenda said.

Don't let go of me
, she thought to Fenimore.
If you do, I may collapse
.

“I got you, baby,” he whispered in her ear.

“Where do you want me to beach us?” Chenda asked out loud again.

“I think it's best if we get ourselves out of the water the same way we got in: let's aim for the pier on the eastern side of the island. It's busy, and hopefully, no one will notice us. We can blend in and disappear.”

Chenda started to scan the water for boats above them, and she found several. She followed one that had the basic shape of a cargo ship, and it led her toward the pier. She slowly squeezed the pickle tub between two pilings under the center pier and pulled in her control of her power. She slumped back against Fenimore.

 
Oh, gods, I feel ill. That was so difficult.