Junior Engineer Cale Pickford

  This job wasn’t as bad as I thought it’d be.

  My expectations weren’t high, all I needed was a quick escape from the fallout of Tobias’ botched heist. I would’ve swabbed decks all day long, scraped gunk off the hull, cleaned the solar sails, whatever dirty jobs they have on an airship. But to spend time inside learning? Hot meals three times a day? Positively sunny.

  I can imagine Tobias’ anger. In the shared flat, he wasn’t known for calmly discussing matters. No, he’s the kind of guy to punch first, ask questions later. Or he’d make some cruel, unfeeling remark and haughtily return to his closet of a room.

  He’s a smooth talker, though. I’ll give a little credit where it’s due. He told me the theft would mean easy money.

  Now, before you get the wrong idea, I’m not a criminal. Never stolen anything in my life except an apple here and there off a market stall - but that’s when I was a hungry teen.

  Anyway, the museum never would’ve hired me if I had a record. That’s why Tobias needed me to learn the place. I don’t know details of his past, but I know enough to be worried for my safety. That’s why I ran when I did.

  The money meant something to me, and I went along with his plan. Until I realized I was tangling with something much more dangerous that I previously thought. That Ruslanian princess? After meeting just once, even the mention of her made my hair stand on end. There’s something about her that sends my alarm bells ringing.

  I wonder what she thinks of us now. Tobias Greenglass and Cale Pickford, two failed thieves. Probably Tobias is in jail now, and when he tells the police I’m involved, they’ll come after me as well.

  I was stupid enough to get hired on this airship under my own name. I understand now that it was a mistake. If a police officer has the bright idea to comb through records of ships leaving Londinium, I’ll surely be discovered.

  If I block the ports for messenger birds, they won’t be able to enter the ship and communicate with the captain. Then the only danger will be at ports. However, if I’ve calculated correctly, our schedule has been altered slightly by us leaving Mogadishu early. So our next landing in Cape Town is already documented, but our arrival will be earlier than previously anticipated.

  I should go to the messaging room as soon as I can and block the ports somehow. There’s lots of spare parts in the engineering bay, I’m sure I can figure something out.

  ______________

  After supper, I read for a little while in the sitting room, then retire to my bunkroom. It’s cramped: two beds across from each other, with a porthole between them on the far wall. I keep my things in my locker at the foot of the bed.

  I share the room with Sydney Cannard. He’s the head navigator, responsible for planning our route and communicating with the outside world. When I disable the birds, he’ll be the first to know. Would he suspect me? I’m contemplating this, crouched near my locker, when he enters the room. He usually comes to the room after I’m already in bed, curtain drawn.

  “Pickford.” He nods, then looks at me like he wants to say something more.

  I stand up and return the nod. “Cannard.”

  We’re standing far too close for my comfort, our eyes meeting.

  “Pickford, I would like to propose an idea to you. And I’d highly encourage you to say yes, based on your recent history.”

  My heart pounds. What is he talking about? Does he know? I clear my throat. “Go on.”

  “I’ll be very clear with you. I no longer wish to serve on this airship under Adelaide. But I need help putting her where she belongs.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I propose that we shall relieve Adelaide of her duties as captain. I am duly qualified to take on the role in her… absence. When we reach Antarctica, we shall leave her there on the ice as penguin food.”

  “Oh.” I tried to think.

  “I need your help. I want your help. Adelaide does not want to be here, as I’m sure everyone can tell. So this will be a good change for all of us.” He pauses, trying to discern my thoughts on this matter. My heart plummets to my stomach when he says, “And of course, there is the matter of what you were part of at the Metropolitan Museum. Wouldn’t it be a shame if your criminal history became known among this crew? Think about what it would mean when we arrive at Cape Town.”

  He takes off his shoes. “Don’t look so surprised, Pickford. I know a few secrets around here. You’re not the only one with something to hide. Worry not, for your cooperation will mean my silence. Choose wisely.”

  For lack of any other method of stalling, I say, “Must I answer you now? Or can I think on it overnight?”

  “I’m surprised you’d entertain the idea,” he smirks. “Very well, I suppose that will be fine. Let me know your decision first thing in the morning. Or else.”

  “Yes, sir.” I take a deep breath and flee the room, keeping my back straight until I close the door behind me.

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  What am I to do? I ponder as I walk to the engineering bay. What could I possibly do besides joining Sydney? We’ll land at Cape Town soon enough, and if I defy him, my secret will be out. The Interpol office there would be glad to deport me to New Amsterdam.

  Could I run away when we land? Doubtful - I have just a few coins to my name, and no knowledge of life in Cape Town. I’d be unlikely to survive.

  Sydney really has me in a bind. I hate to do it; Captain Springett seems nice enough. But what else is there to do?

  I turn the corner to the engineering bay. Boxes and bins of spare parts and tools sit on shelves to the ceiling. As quietly as I can, I find a hammer and wrench and tuck them into my inner vest pocket along with a handful of spare nails and bolts and a tube of extra strength glue.

  I must cross my hands over my stomach and hunch over to keep the tools from clanking.

  A voice startles me and I jump. “Pickford? Are you alright?” It’s the captain herself. I gulp and turn pale at being caught.

  She reaches out and touches my chin, forcing me to look at her. “Egads, you look terrible!”

  “It seems that dinner did not agree with me,” I croak, thinking quickly. “On my way to the head.”

  “Let me accompany you,” she loops her arm through mine as if to support me. I remained hunched and shuffle with her to the washroom. “I am so sorry, Pickford. Perhaps you have an undiscovered allergy? Or you got a bite of something spoiled? If the symptoms continue, talk to Kiona - she’ll get you comfortable. Don’t worry about waking her up, it’s part of her job as nurse on board.”

  “Thank you,” I mumble, and enter the mens’ washroom. I lock the door and listen as she walks away. My heart pounds and I sweat fiercely.

  There’s a reason that Toby was the one actually in the museum for the heist. I have absolutely no skills in thinking on my feet. It’s a miracle that the captain didn’t see right through my guise.

  I run the tap and rake some cold water through my hair before leaving the washroom, quietly sighing.

  _______

  I enter the message closet and lock the door behind me. Each bird sits in a raised box, one door separating them from the outside and one from the inside. I push open the little interior door on the closest box. After removing the mech bird, I examine the outer hatch. Cold seeps through the metal. There’s no discernable seams, just a few bolts holding the outer hinges.

  Time for the glue. It takes a few hours to dry fully, but once it does, nothing short of an electrosaw will break the bonding. Because of this late hour, I don’t expect anyone to send or receive a message, so my plan should work.

  My arms fully extended through the box, I carefully squeezed the glue all around the edges of the hatch. It’s a little shaky, but it’ll do. And I’ll be able to say no to Sydney. How will he tell the authorities about me without messenger birds? I smile in relief as I put the mechs back exactly the way they were.

  I retrace my steps to return the supplies. Back in my room, I quietly undress and get into bed so as not to wake Sydney.

  The Next Morning

  “So, Pickford, did you decide?” Sydney smoothly asked, with all the confidence of a man who knows the outcome. I’d woken up earlier than usual, some time ago, but remained in bed, staring at the curtain enclosing me. Our alarm hadn’t gone off yet.

  A few minutes ago, I listened as Sydney dressed. He must’ve realized I was awake by my breathing. I remembered all my satisfaction last night, how I patted myself on the back after gluing the hatches, as if that would bring me salvation.

  I gulped and answered, “Yes, I’ve decided.”

  “And?”

  “I did not come here to be a mutineer. I will support Captain Springett, not you, the supplanter.” I tried to sound brave.

  To my surprise, he laughed. “Do you really think that your secret cannot be shared? We’re landing at Cape Town today; there’s an embassy there and an Interpol station. In fact, I might ask to join Kiona on her trip into the town. I’m sure the authorities would be happy to reward me for this information, and you can have a complimentary flight to wherever it is that they lock up high profile thieves. How does that sound?”

  I shiver and sit up slightly, but say nothing.

  Suddenly the bed frame rocks and I fall to my back. Sydney growls, close to the curtain, “I said, how does that sound?”

  “Bad?” I squeak.

  “Exactly.” I hear him take a step back. “Are we on the same page here? You’ll help me take control of this vessel, in exchange for your silence?”

  I’m quiet for a moment, thinking. My options are few, I’m as trapped as Quaerere’s messenger birds. I sigh, then say, “I understand. I’ll help you.”

  “Wonderful. Stay tuned for further instructions.” Sydney exits our room just as the alarm starts shrieking. I reach out from behind the curtain and slap the button to turn it off. Head in my hands, I prepare to face the day.

  ______

  Every morning at breakfast, we talk about our goals for the day with Captain Springett. Sometimes we have our own ideas of what we should do - Barry gets a lot of leeway in this. Other times, Springett assigns a task for us to complete.

  It just so happens that today, after we land in Cape Town, I will go with Kiona into the marketplace. Barry has given me a list of mechanical items to buy, and Kiona needs fresh food to restock the galley. I try my best to act normal during this conversation, but I feel a bead of sweat form on my upper lip.

  I help Kiona clear the dishes as the airship descends. Then I swing by the engineering bay to get the parts list from Barry. He makes sure I understand everything and jovially slaps my shoulder as I walk away.

  My hands are clammy by now. I fold the paper and tuck it into my pocket for safekeeping.

  Will I be recognized by the police? What should I do? I can’t think of anything. Any disguise or affected mannerisms would immediately alert Kiona and probably look strange to everyone else.

  So I take a deep breath and try to steady myself as we descend the gangplank. I’m carrying a couple crates for supplies. Kiona has some cloth bags for the food.

  The airfield, a half mile northeast of town, is serviced by regular trams. Kiona and I boarded one after just a few minute’s wait. I try not to peer at everyone, but it’s difficult when I can feel their eyes on me. Do they know who I am? How closely are they watching? My paranoia increases at the busy market, and the time passes in a blur. We find everything we need and tote it back to Quaerere.

  That night, Sydney’s eyes caught mine more than usual. He looks so sure of himself, so smug. Like the cat that got the canary. I hate to think about what will happen to this ship and its crew in the near future. But what choice do I have?