Chenda and the Airship Brofman (41 page)

“I bet. I can't imagine pushing us underwater all this way. You are impressive!”

Candice, ever practical, looked around and said, “OK, who packed the can opener?”

Everyone laughed. Chenda lay as limp as a rag-doll against Fenimore. “I'll open our little tub in a second, let me catch my breath. Fenimore, tell us what the plan is.”

“Even though the island is neutral, it's still crawling with Tugrulians. We can assume that most of them are going to be on the lookout for Chenda. Keeping you out of sight would be my preference. We've got to get over to the airslip tower, but I am sure that there will be folks looking for us there. We need to be pretty sure that the
Brofman
will be there when we go, or we're going to get noticed.  Besides, we will need to buy tickets for the incline to get us up to the airship tower. There is a cafe in town where a lot of Republic expatriates like to hobnob. I know the owner, and I think he still owes me a favor. If Captain Endicott has been through, this guy will know it, and I trust him. That will be our first stop.”

Fenimore looked down at Chenda's exhausted face. “Ready?”

I need you to help me. I'm just so tired, I can't lift my arms. I need a knife, too.

He pulled his knife out of his boot and pressed it into Chenda's hand. He lifted her up, cradled in one of his arms, and helped her press the knife to the top of the pickle tub. “On three,” she said weakly, “We make a quick circle.”

“One, Two, THREE!” Chenda sparked the dagger and released what little power she had left as Fenimore swirled her arm in a smooth circle. The metal of the tub melted where the knife point touched it, and a circle of hot metal fell into the tub with a soft clang. The makeshift vessel was flooded with bright sunshine and the sounds of commerce from the pier above.

“Ha HA! We did it!” Fenimore cheered, gently shaking the girl in his arms. Chenda didn't move. “Chenda?” He put a finger under her chin and tipped her head back. She was unconscious.

“No, no, no - NO!” Fenimore rubbed his hand on her cheek. He looked to Candice with desperate eyes.

“What happened?” Candice asked.

“I can't get her to wake up!” Fenimore wailed.

“Calm down and let's see what we can do,” Candice ordered. “Put her down.”

He laid her on the floor of the tub and took a closer look at Chenda in the daylight. She was pale, and her closed eyes rested in dark circles, but she was breathing.

“She's exhausted, but I don't know if there is anything much we can do for her. We need to get her some food and water, that's for sure, and I think fresh air,” Candice assessed. “How much attention is it going to draw for us to carry an unconscious woman across the pier?”

“Here? Some, but not enough to make us particularly memorable. I think we need to keep moving,” Fenimore said.

“No time like the present. You get up there and I'll push.”

A few minutes later, Fenimore had dragged Chenda to a secluded spot between two market stalls on the smooth, sun bleached boards of the pier. He leaned her against a pile of fishing nets and Candice arranged a veil over Chenda's face. She turned to Fenimore. “Let's go.”

He picked up Chenda as Candice gathered the last of her things into her shoulder bag, and the three of them stepped out onto the bustling boardwalk. He looked down through the slit in the veil over Chenda's eyes, and he worried that this could be more than exhaustion.  Had they asked Chenda to do too much? Was Chenda permanently damaged from the strain of this undersea voyage?

A few people gave sidelong glances at Fenimore, but no one seemed to find the trio exceptionally noteworthy. They walked off the pier and into the small, rough looking waterfront area at the base of a tall mountain.

“Are there no taxis?” Candice asked. “Like the ones back at Atoll Belles?”

“A few, but I don't see any. Besides I don't have any money. I'm going to have to see what we've got to sell or trade so we can get some water. Don't worry, Laura's Folly isn't too far. We can walk it.”

They made their way deeper into the small town. The farther they got from the bustling wharf, the more pleasant the neighborhoods became. After ten minutes, they turned a corner into a beautiful square with russet colored cobblestone sidewalks. A fountain bubbled in the center, and several little shops and cafes lined the plaza. Fenimore made a bee-line to the closest one.

The colorful sign out front read
Laura's Folly: A bit of Kite's Republic Far from Home
. Two steps inside the door, Candice believed it. Every smell, every picture, every accent and face screamed
Republic
! Candice's mouth watered as she passed a table of westerners eating platters of beer battered fish and chips, hamburgers and finger sandwiches.

Fenimore walked past the bar and trust his chin out in greeting as he walked by. “Hey, Ryan. Can you help a fellow out?”

The barkeep, hearing his name, looked up from the taps and gave a surprised look at Fenimore's retreating back. He wiped his silver spectacles with a bar towel, then followed Fenimore to an empty booth at the back of the cafe. “Fenimore Dulal. Well, I'll be. Look what the cat dragged in!”

Fenimore sat down on the narrow bench and cradled Chenda in his arms. “Yep. Seems like business is good for you. How's the wife?”

“Great! Never better. We have a beautiful daughter now, that's new since the last time you visited. And you're lookin' so tan. So, yeah, we gonna keep up the small talk, or do you want to tell me about the unconscious Tugrulian girl you’re cuddlin' in my cafe, and exactly what you want me to do about it?”

“Ah, Ryan, you always did like to get straight to the point. The Tugrulian behind you is Professor Candice Mortimer, of the Geology Department at Kite's Republic University. I believe she would be most grateful for some food and drink, and perhaps a new set of clothes. The exhausted one in my arms is my wife, and she could use some of the same as well.”

“Are you calling in your last favor to me?” Ryan asked tapping a finger on his pointy chin expectantly.

“Yes.”

“Done!” the thin man said with giggling glee. “Get those stupid veils off them right away. Tugrulians are bad for business.” He hustled off behind the bar and disappeared into a back room.

“This place,” Candice marveled, stuffing her veil into her bag, “is a little slice of HEAVEN! I didn't realize how much I missed the Republic till I stepped in here. The people look so varied! They are eating things that don't come out of a cave, and favors are currency!” Candice gushed, “and I smell beer!”

Fenimore, only half listening to Candice, made a weak half smile. He pulled Chenda's veil off and tossed it to Candice. He brushed his fingers through Chenda's short, dirty hair, trying to make some improvement in her appearance. Mostly, he finally admitted, he just wanted to keep touching her. He rocked her back and forth as Candice babbled on joyfully about the Republic.

For as much as the professor had relaxed, Fenimore didn't dare. He knew he was nowhere near the Republic. Laura's Folly was a reminder of the homeland, but carried none of the rights or security. He tried to keep that tension from his fingers as he cupped his hand behind Chenda's neck.

Ryan appeared with an armload of varied bits of clothing. “Lost and Found,” he said, handing the bundle to Candice. “Washroom's through there,” he said, pointing though a narrow doorway. “What can I have the cook prepare for you while you get westernized, professor?”

“Fish. Chips. Burger with cheese. Beer. Supply that and my ETERNAL devotion is yours, my good man.” Candice trotted with the clothes toward the washroom.

“Same for me, please,” Fenimore said, “And thanks.”

“I'll put that order in and be back in a minute. You look like you need to talk.” Ryan turned and walked into the kitchen.

Alone with Chenda, Fenimore continued to rock her slowly. He rested his cheek on her forehead. “Come on, baby, open your eyes, just for a second.”

No,
Chenda thought at him petulantly, and snuggled into his chest, snoring softly. A wave of relief washed over him. “OK,” he said. “I'll let you rest now that I know you are not in a coma.”

When Ryan returned, settling on the bench on the far side of the table, Fenimore had relaxed considerably, and thought about what Ryan had said to him. “Wow. A daughter, congratulations. I'm an uncle now! Where is my sister, by the way?”

“Upstairs in the apartment. I sent one of the girls up to tell her you were here. She'll be down in a second. Laura's in the middle of feeding the baby. We named her Gretta, by the way.”

“Gretta, how wonderful.” Fenimore frowned slightly. “I hate to change the subject, but have you seen or heard from Captain Endicott?”

“Yes, he was here, oh, nine days ago, maybe. I was surprised to hear that you weren't with him anymore, and Verdu, too?” He glanced at Chenda. “Does she have something to do with that?”

“Everything, my friend,” he said. “We parted company with Verdu very early this morning in Nivarta.”

“Nivarta? What were you doing inside the Empire? Trying to get yourself killed? I hear all kinds of rumors coming out of there. Is it true civil war is brewing?”

“That's a good term for it. Verdu stayed behind to feed the fires for that particular war. Listen. Other than Endicott, if anyone comes asking about me or the ladies, you've not seen us. OK?”

“Whatever you say. He did say he planned on visiting again soon, if that helps.”

He looked at Chenda. “Your sister is going to kill you for not sending word that you married.”

“Well, I actually spoke too soon. It's hard to explain. Wishful thinking perhaps, but she's the one for me. I just need to convince her.”

“Fenimore Dulal in love. Good luck with that,” Ryan said.

 Candice appeared at the table's edge, looking fresh and western.

“Ta-da!” she beamed. “The old me!” She frowned a little, laying the extra clothes on the table. “I was hoping for beer by now.”

Ryan laughed, and left the bench. “Keep your pants on, I'm going.”

Candice took Ryan's place on the bench. “Any change?”

“Um, yes. She got annoyed with me and now she's snoring.”

“Oh, progress,” Candice said with a smile.

Ryan returned with a tray heavy with food and two tall glasses of rich brown beer.

“Thank the gods and Kite's Republic,” Candice exclaimed as she popped a few chips in her mouth. “Mmmm... fabulous.”

“I brought some juice for the half-dead looking object of your desires,” Ryan said, placing a frosty glass on the table near Chenda. “You know, for whenever she comes to.”

The smell of hot, comforting food tugged at Chenda's sleepy brain. She stirred in Fenimore's arms, and opened one eye. “Fen?”

“Yeah, honey?” he said in a soothing tone. “I'm right here. Bet you are starving.” He helped her to sit up and pressed the juice into her hands. She took a sip, then drank deeply, looking around. Her eyes settle on Fenimore.

“Did I wake up in Coal City?” she asked.

“No, just the next best thing,” Fenimore said.

“I fell asleep in your arms, and I woke up there too. That's a first,” she said as she eyed the hamburger.

“Eat,” Candice ordered, a slice of onion half hanging from the corner of her mouth.

Chenda dove in, still tired, but becoming more alive with each bite. “Oh! Gods in heaven,” she said, her mouth full. “When did I eat last? I have no idea...”

Chenda, Candice and Fenimore ate happily. By the time they finished, Fenimore's sister joined them at the table, and introductions were made all around. Chenda could see the resemblance between the two, especially in the sandy hair and light eyes. Laura was several years younger, but still looked at her brother discerningly.

“So, will you be visiting long?” she said.

“No, we are about to go. We need to get back on the
Brofman
and head west. You might want to think about moving a little farther from the Tugrulian Empire yourself. If civil war breaks out, you might not be safe here.”

“I'll think about it,” she said with a sniff. “Why don't you come upstairs and see the baby?”

“I'm sorry,” he said, his voice dripping with regret. “We have to go now. Kiss my niece for me.” He stood and wrapped his arms around his sister. “Take care. I will come back when I can.”

Chenda pulled a tattered western gown over her Tugrulian dress and scooted to the end of the bench where Fenimore's hand waited to pull her to standing. “Ready?” he asked.

“Have to be,” she answered and she pulled herself to standing. Everything hurt. She started walking on her wobbly legs. Fenimore wrapped an arm around her waist to steady her.

Chenda thought to Fenimore
Do we need to leave some money for the clothes and the dinner?

“
I don't think we have any.” Fenimore said.

I've got about ten thousand in Republic currency in my pouchbelt.

“Mostly, that's just colored paper here,” he replied with a smile. “Ryan does a good bit of trade with merchants from the West, but they all still do business in local currency. Maybe we can get a few coins for it. We're better off to pawn some things and buy ourselves some tickets for the Crider Incline.”