Page 68 of Requiem of Silence

The shrill dissonance of a mechanical bark cleared his head. Ziggy ran up, clattering across the blacktop, showing his obvious delight. He sped over to Zeli, who squatted down to pet his metal hide. Lanar took a quick step away from the little dog and eyed the “ship” dubiously.

“Ziggy? Where’d ye get off to now?” the Tinker cried as he came from around the other side of the ship. A broad smile split his face, causing something within Varten to settle. “Ye decided to take me up on me offer then, eh?”

He couldn’t bring himself to answer, so Zeli spoke up. “There was a situation,” she said. “We were robbed. We won’t be able to pay you anything until the banks open in the morning, but I promise we do have funds.” She looked at Varten, “I mean, one of us does.”

“Aw,pshaw,” the Tinker said. “I’ve told ye my price. I’ll take ye up for the stories alone.”

Lanar stepped forward, arms crossed. “You must understand, talk of life under the True Father is not entertaining. It can be very painful to relay.”

The Tinker’s face fell as his brows rose. “Oh, no, no, I don’t want to hear about the awful things. I wouldn’t put you through that. I want to know about normal life there. Breakfast, and how the sun looks when it rises, and what songs you sing when you’re working, things like that.”

Lanar tilted his head in confusion, but Zeli smiled. For amoment, Varten was caught in it, in how bright her face looked and how her eyes shone. It almost pierced the carapace of guilt quickly forming over him.

“Why do you want those kinds of stories?” she asked.

The Tinker leaned forward conspiratorially. “A good story is worth its weight in steel. They spark ideas, don’t they?” He tapped his head. “Never know where inspiration will strike. Collecting stories, talking to people from interesting places is all a part of creating. All a part of this puzzle called life we’re tryin’ to piece together.” He rubbed his hands together with anticipation. “Come aboard, come aboard. We’d best be leaving if we want to get ye there in time for the Rumpus.”

Lanar sniffed, wholly unimpressed. He eyed the oddly shaped ship dubiously. “What type of craft is this?”

“Why it’s not a ship, per se. Wait right here, I’ll show ye.”

He disappeared behind the… well, whatever it was and in moments, the metal structure began to creak and groan. Steam billowed from small exhaust pipes along the top of a flat portion, perhaps a roof? And then the whole thing shuddered and began to rise.

And rise.

And rise.

It truly wasn’t a ship, it was… Well, sort of like a mechanical spider. With five legs, and a body that must house the cockpit. Dark glass panels encircled the half-dome center mass. One of the windows slid open and the Tinker leaned out, waving.

“This isLeggsy!” he shouted. “I’ll send the lift down for ye.”

They all stared up at it, Zeli in awe and Lanar in what looked like dread. A smile pulled at Varten’s lips. He didn’t want to smile, he wanted to wallow in guilt and shame, but it came all the same. This was far better than an airship or a train.

A mesh basket descended from the underside of the body, held by thin telescoping metal rods. When it touched the ground, a door on it popped open. Ziggy ran over and jumped into the basket with a gleeful bark.

Zeli looked over at Varten with wide eyes, and he shrugged. “Might as well get in,” he said, moving closer. He led the way with Zeli right behind him and Lanar bringing up the rear.

A wary hesitance flowed from the man like fog, but what other options did they have now? Once they were all on the platform, the basket’s door closed and it began to rise with a subtle shudder. The trip up gave them a terrific view of the air station, the city around them, the river and bay, and beyond. And then they were enclosed in darkness when the platform came to a stop.

Ziggy yipped once, and the lights flickered on. The interior of the… contraption was old, worn, and well patched. Varten had always had an interest in mechanical things and this was the most fascinating machine he’d yet encountered.

They exited the basket into a narrow hallway where his head nearly brushed the ceiling. The smell of oil and warm metal comforted the ragged place inside him. Ziggy led them down the corridor and up a set of ladders—their legs bent in unnatural ways, allowing them to negotiate the rungs—and onto the main bridge. There the Tinker sat in a padded captain’s chair in front of a glowing console.

Varten had learned about seagoing vessels from Ani’s brother, Tai, and of airships from Clove. He recognized some of the controls, though there were many different ones here. Curiosity beat through the haze of guilt. Would the Tinker show him how everything worked?

“Strap in,” the Tinker said, motioning to the jump seats behind him. They folded down from the sides and included safety belts.

Varten belted in next to Zeli, with Lanar across from them. “How fast does this thing go?” he asked.

“Ah, well, fast as a train on flat land. Faster uphill,” he said with a wink and swiveled around to man the controls.

Leggsyshuddered and then began vibrating. The engine was beneath them, Varten felt it spin up. Zigs settled under the console by the Tinker’s feet and appeared to fall asleep, if that was possible for a mechanical dog.

The Tinker spoke into a headset in Yalyish, likely talking to ground control. “We’ve got the go-ahead,” he said over his shoulder. “Hold onto yer teeth!”

Leggsybounced once and then its long legs began to move. The motion was graceful, the bridge remained surprisingly stable—Varten would love to get a peek at the shock-absorption system. They walked along the city streets, obeying the traffic laws for the most part, even as they towered over all other vehicles.

The roads were clogged at this time of day and it was slow-going, but once they left the busy section of the city behind for a quieter, more residential one, they moved considerably faster.

---