sullenly.
Almost in synch, we take a drink of our liquor and set it down on
the table, mine empty and his leaving the bottom of the glass
flooded. “How old does that make you, then, sir?”
The man grins as he pours me
another with an eyebrow arching in question, that I nod to. Orin
sits quietly on my shoulder, sleeping from the looks of it, and the
weight of the lizard on the bone offers me comfort the way the
presence of a person cannot.
“ Age is just a number, lad,” he tells me , and I frown at that. He does not look a day
past forty, with only the beginnings of grey hair to show for it
and a bit of wrinkles around his eyes. “Oh don’t look so cheated –
it’s not your fault everyone’s been watching your every move with
bated breath, waiting to see if the son of the legendary Cephas
will follow in his footsteps. As it stands, you’re going to be the
first Automech pirate this world has ever seen.”
We sit in silence a moment, I
skimming through the list of other pirates and flipping through the
logbook idly, not really concentrating on it as I nurse my gin.
Captain Davis raids the pastry platter in the quiet of our
discussion.
He clears his throat, making me
look up from the book in my lap.
“ Your formal
training, then, shall begin tomorrow,” he tells me, and at that I
brighten up. The large man laughs, pulling on the lapels of his
waistcoat a moment. “You will learn every post there is on an
airship, and learn them well. You’ll work your way from deckhand to
Master Gunner, as well as everything in between, before you ascend
to the role of Captain. This takes us to July, where we are
scheduled to dock in Aeon, and where we’ll find you your ship and
crew.”
He leans forward then, still
grinning and holding his glass.
“ What say you
to that, Kennedy? You still have time to change your mind – and
none will hold it against you,” he informs me, and I arch an
eyebrow at the ridiculous proposition. “You’ve quite a heavy legacy
to shoulder, what with your forefathers being pirates, going back
for generations, and your own father being the best of the
best.”
I down the rest of the gin in
one gulp, setting the crystal glass down loudly and grinning at the
Captain.
“ Looking forward to it, sir,” I reply, and he laughs again,
nodding. “My father’s death will not go unpunished; this I swear on
my own hono ur, both as an
engineer and a man.” I lean forward, hands on the table, as I drive
my point home. “May Airn curse me to whatever hell awaits me if I
fail this duty.”
His eyebrows rise, seeing the
seriousness of my oath and the severity of it. His laughter dies
and he leans forward slightly, enough so that I can smell the rum
from his breath, and looks at me the way anyone would when they
have a troubling thought.
“ What did your father’s journal tell you?” He
inquires, and here I stand.
“ The man that
caused his death,” I tell him, and take my leave with those words
uttered, leaving the Captain to collect his own thoughts. As I
depart, I leave him with my final oath. “And the man whom I shall
kill.”
V – Tools of the Trade
The following day, I a m put to work as a deckhand.
One of the pirates working topside, Owen, is put in charge
showing me the ropes and how it all works – some of the pirates
being old enough to remember the time my father was with them, and
teasing me all the more for it (in the spirit of fun, of course) –
all down to the actual rigging of the sails. I follow him up the
rigging, where we tighten the sails and fix the patches
wh ere the Aether has given,
and I am shown how lookout works as well.
Actually getting some on-hand
experience with the task is amazing, and as long as I live, I swear
never to forget the look of the sky stretching infinitely around
the ship as I stand in the crow’s nest, clouds passing through me
as I watch the skies expand into infinity. The thunderclouds and
the smell of ozone thick in the
Almost in synch, we take a drink of our liquor and set it down on
the table, mine empty and his leaving the bottom of the glass
flooded. “How old does that make you, then, sir?”
The man grins as he pours me
another with an eyebrow arching in question, that I nod to. Orin
sits quietly on my shoulder, sleeping from the looks of it, and the
weight of the lizard on the bone offers me comfort the way the
presence of a person cannot.
“ Age is just a number, lad,” he tells me , and I frown at that. He does not look a day
past forty, with only the beginnings of grey hair to show for it
and a bit of wrinkles around his eyes. “Oh don’t look so cheated –
it’s not your fault everyone’s been watching your every move with
bated breath, waiting to see if the son of the legendary Cephas
will follow in his footsteps. As it stands, you’re going to be the
first Automech pirate this world has ever seen.”
We sit in silence a moment, I
skimming through the list of other pirates and flipping through the
logbook idly, not really concentrating on it as I nurse my gin.
Captain Davis raids the pastry platter in the quiet of our
discussion.
He clears his throat, making me
look up from the book in my lap.
“ Your formal
training, then, shall begin tomorrow,” he tells me, and at that I
brighten up. The large man laughs, pulling on the lapels of his
waistcoat a moment. “You will learn every post there is on an
airship, and learn them well. You’ll work your way from deckhand to
Master Gunner, as well as everything in between, before you ascend
to the role of Captain. This takes us to July, where we are
scheduled to dock in Aeon, and where we’ll find you your ship and
crew.”
He leans forward then, still
grinning and holding his glass.
“ What say you
to that, Kennedy? You still have time to change your mind – and
none will hold it against you,” he informs me, and I arch an
eyebrow at the ridiculous proposition. “You’ve quite a heavy legacy
to shoulder, what with your forefathers being pirates, going back
for generations, and your own father being the best of the
best.”
I down the rest of the gin in
one gulp, setting the crystal glass down loudly and grinning at the
Captain.
“ Looking forward to it, sir,” I reply, and he laughs again,
nodding. “My father’s death will not go unpunished; this I swear on
my own hono ur, both as an
engineer and a man.” I lean forward, hands on the table, as I drive
my point home. “May Airn curse me to whatever hell awaits me if I
fail this duty.”
His eyebrows rise, seeing the
seriousness of my oath and the severity of it. His laughter dies
and he leans forward slightly, enough so that I can smell the rum
from his breath, and looks at me the way anyone would when they
have a troubling thought.
“ What did your father’s journal tell you?” He
inquires, and here I stand.
“ The man that
caused his death,” I tell him, and take my leave with those words
uttered, leaving the Captain to collect his own thoughts. As I
depart, I leave him with my final oath. “And the man whom I shall
kill.”
V – Tools of the Trade
The following day, I a m put to work as a deckhand.
One of the pirates working topside, Owen, is put in charge
showing me the ropes and how it all works – some of the pirates
being old enough to remember the time my father was with them, and
teasing me all the more for it (in the spirit of fun, of course) –
all down to the actual rigging of the sails. I follow him up the
rigging, where we tighten the sails and fix the patches
wh ere the Aether has given,
and I am shown how lookout works as well.
Actually getting some on-hand
experience with the task is amazing, and as long as I live, I swear
never to forget the look of the sky stretching infinitely around
the ship as I stand in the crow’s nest, clouds passing through me
as I watch the skies expand into infinity. The thunderclouds and
the smell of ozone thick in the
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