Maledictus Aether (12 page)

“
My question still remains as
can she fly
?” he
inquires, and I pull away from his arm, pocketing the cloth by
stuffing the corner between my belt and my skin, and
grin.

“
How abou
t we get me a
crew, and then we shall see?” I shoot back, and the man, laughing,
nods.

I stand in front of more than three dozen men and women,
all dressed in various styles of the cultures they’ve come from:
Asian, American, British, French, African, Canadian, and so on. All
of these have the kind of vibe to them
associated with a pirate, and I am taking Fulke’s word
for it when he says that they are all more than qualified for the
job.

“
You a
re all fully
conscious of my goals, I expect,” I start, staring each man and
woman down. Some are as young as sixteen, others as old as forty.
“News travels fast, as I have been told.”

I look at Fulke briefly,
arching an eyebrow, and he holds up his hands innocently. Rolling
my eyes, I turn my attention back to the three dozen pirates.

“
This will not
be your
everyday ship, either,” I continue, and I start walking from one
end of their ranks to another, hands behind my back. “I first plan
on finding my father’s treasure; afterwards, we are chasing a
legend – Tier itself. Lastly, I plan to wipe out the Fleet
entirely. For that, I need able-bodied men and women who are
willing to chase two legends and an impossible task.”

I pause in the middle of the
group again, looking at them.

“
I a
m also fully aware
that the vast majority of you have come today because of my father
– and the hype associated with me for a reason that still eludes
me,” I tell them. “Let me make it clear to you right away: I am not
my father. I have never met the man, nor do I righteously know what
he was necessarily
like
. I
do
know, however, that he planned to find Tier and bring back
its many benefits and resources, for the good of our kind. That he
planned to make us all the most feared people in the world, both in
the Skylands and back landside. I also know that he wanted to do
everything in his power to ensure that the Fleet would see its
end!”

Pausing a moment, I continue
after letting that sink in.

“
My father touched the lives of a thousand men and women, in
ways I cannot begin to fathom.” I take a deep breath, and begin
this part of the tale. “He raided the Fleet’s ships, and handed the
boon to the people of Aeon, so they could finally prosper. He took
in men and women who had no other place to go, and gave them a
purpose on his ship – and for all his kindn
ess, he was betrayed, and I do not plan to let that go
unpunished.

“
So, every
man and woman standing here unwilling to do as I order and to scour
the ends of the earth for a legend, I implore that you leave now,
because there will be no going back once you set foot aboard my
ship,” I state, and I pause again. They remain.

Every last one of them, eyes on
me, and a fire in their eyes I recognize.

After all, I ha
ve
looked at it in the mirror for the last good while now.

“
Are you all
willing to serve me loyally, to the ends of the earth?”

They shout their assent, a
shout that rings from the room’s walls and bounces back at us.

“
To lay down
your lives for your crewmates, as well as myself?”

“
Aye!”

“
To be the best damned pirate crew this world has ever seen,
and ever
will
see?”

The next shout almost deafens
me, and I grin at the crew.

“
That i
s what I like
to hear. Any questions?”

A man steps forward, in his
late twenties, and I nod at him, giving him the chance to
speak.

“
Sir, you’ve said quite a lot about Cephas, but we’ve heard
very little of
yourself
, from
you
,” he states, and here a few pirates nod. I smile, crossing
my arms. “We’ve all heard the gossip, but how can we be sure it’s
true?”

“
What i
s your name?” I
ask, and he looks at me with blue eyes so pale they are almost
white.

“
Lucian,
sir.”

“
Thank you, Lucian; I was wondering when someone would bring
that u
p,” I state, walking up
until I am standing in front of the man. He has black hair that
sits in a mess on his head and fair skin that does not hint at his
age. As we look at one-another, he idly adjust the cuffs of his
dark tailcoat and places his hands on his hips, pushing back the
coat in order to plant them on the fabric of the dark blue dress
shirt beneath.

“
I seem to recall someth
ing about you – as it stands, I have had a formidable
debriefing about every one of you,” I state, gesturing idly with a
hand. “After that and after seeing you raise the question no one
dared to, I have in my right mind to appoint you Quarter
Master.”

His eyebrows skyrocket.

“
To answer your question,
Mr Rawston: I was in the Forces for six years, and in the
Fleet for a scattering of months before Captain Davis took me as an
apprentice,” I start, hands now held together behind my back. We
continue our silent contest as I speak, eyes never straying. “I
have spent two months doing so, learning everything that was at my
disposal about the very position I now wish to embark on. I am an
engineer and a pilot, capable of doing both with great ease, and an
inventor – the airship you will be sailing on, should you choose to
do so, holds an engine of my design, as well as a scattering of
equipment. The ship itself goes without saying.”

For a moment I stop speaking,
arching my eyebrow in question at the man.

“
I trust you
are satisfied?”

He nods, the beginnings of a
smile on his lips as he steps back.

“
If you have
any other
concerns, I trust you will bring them up later, in the privacy of
my quarters,” I continue, and this time look to the other men and
women. “As for the rest of you, any concerns are to be directed to
my Quarter Master, who will then voice them on your behalf.
Understood?”

They agree, and do no
t voice any other questions. Then, I go back to the centre
of the group and face them, unable to contain the beginnings of my
grin.

“
Very well. Then it i
s
time we cast off.”

“
Engine
powered to full capacity!”

I shout back the order to stand by, the engineer ducking
back into the engine room, and I continue redirecting power across
the ship, testing the port and starboard propellers and getting
them into position. Then I give the signal to power them up, Lucian
by the other set of controls along starboard to take care of the
propellers powering up. The all-clear is given back in the hanger,
the ceiling of the giant room retracting on itself.
The noise the engines are causing is
just a whisper inside the ship itself, though I know from
experience that the sound is deafening. The engine in the
Atlas
itself is loud, yes, but not as much as you’d expect for
one of its size – about the size of a carriage, maybe a little
bigger.

I give the order to cast off, and the propellers begin
spinning, picking up speed while the
Aether is turned on. My Quarter Master is looking to the
gauges, reading back the information.

“
Aether circulation stabilized,” he informs me, and I push
the lever beside the control mechanism for the airship itself to
full. The ship lifts from the ground with a small lurch, rising
steadily, and I flick a few switches to stabilize the
pressure.

We clear the building and rise even higher, until I give
the order to shift the direction to forward. More switches and
levers are pulled, and within another scattering of seconds
w
e are speeding away from
Aeon at the kind of speed you would not expect of an
airship.

“
Ladies and gentlemen, we have flight,” I muse, laughing
lightly. My spirits are high, elated at the thought of flying
my
very own airship – and
that it is airborne in the first place. Lucian pulls away from the
starboard controls, giving the all-clear to the engineers for me
while I leave the Sailing Master in charge of flying the airship.
His name is Angelo.

“
I’ll admit,
sir, I wasn’t expecting this beast to fly,” Lucian informs me, and
I pick up Orin from his perch on the wall, placing him on my
shoulder and looking to the man. “It’s very unlike any ship I’ve
ever seen.”

“
Walk with
me,” I suggest, reaching for the ladder and slipping down to the
deck below. He follows me as I set the pace down the walkway that
offers a clear view of the happenings below, made of copper, tin
and wood. The bulbs above our heads give off a warm light, buzzing
faintly.

“
I’m correct in assuming
you’ve designed this airship?” he continues, and I nod,
reaching for the door at the far end of the walkway and pushing my
way in. I wait for him to follow before I shut the door. “How did
you think of this design, anyways? Better question: how effective
is it?”

I answer his questions as I
tell him to sit, the same thing I told the people who helped me
make it a reality. After pouring the Irishman a pint of ale, I take
a glass of gin on the rocks and join him around a table, sitting
back in an armchair as I recount the thinking behind it. He listens
attentively, shooting questions at me every little while when
something I say piques his interest.

When I a
m finished, I
ask him how he got into the trade of piracy. In my months as one
myself, I have heard many stories about how people fell across this
– and none of them are ever the same, making it even more
impressive.

“
My great-grandfather was one of the first men to begin the
trade,” he informs me, accented English in place. “Elijah Rawston,
the first
steel smith of the
S.S.
Alitis Gladio.
My grandfather was born on that
ship, as was my father, and when the Fleet found them my father
sent my mother landside.”

As he speaks, the man leans
back in his seat and rests his left ankle on his right knee,
tapping his foot and holding his head up with the fingertips of his
left hand, elbow on the armrest.

“
My mother
waited years before he could return to her in Dublin, where they
settled and had me. He took on the trade of blacksmith, my mother a
school teacher, and I found out of my family history through,
ironically enough, a history book. I’d heard of the exploits of the
pirates, and once I was done the entire tome I decided I wanted to
give it a go.” Lucian pauses to take a quick drink, offering me a
small smile that I return, nursing my gin.

“
When I was
sixteen, about eleven years ago, I’d collected enough money to buy
my way aboard a vessel that would take me to Aeon. Halfway there,
it was revealed to me that it was, in fact, a pirate
ship.”

He i
s quiet a moment,
eyes faraway, before he continues.

“
Suffice to say, I wasn’t allowed to leave. I was made their
slave for a good five
years;
beaten and abused far more times than I care to admit, before I
slipped off one day and hid until they departed. There, I found
honest work and made some contacts, and eventually went aboard a
different vessel for another five years – I believe you’re familiar
with the
Calypso
?”

I nod my assent, and he grins
with the glass pressed to his lips.

“
I was the
Boatswain for Captain Walters,” he informs me, and laughs at my
expression. “Quite a character on the man – but enough about me,
sir. What about you?”

Sitting up, I lean forward in
my seat and cradle my glass in my hands.

“
You a
re practically
my equal, Lucian,” I state, and here he arches an eyebrow, slightly
confused. “Just call me Kennedy.”

He nods, smile back in
place.

I tell him of my adventures thus far, from my accident six
and a half years ago to Captain Davis boarding the
Charybdis
just to see if the rumours held true, and that Cephas’
son was truly alive. The rest follows afterwards, our stories being
shared for the better part of an hour before we exhaust that train
of thought. He is leaning on the edge of his seat, glass on the
table as I hold up the leg of my trousers to show him the
prosthetic right leg.

“
So it’s true,” he muses, whistling lowly as I lower the
fabric back over the mechanical appendage and pull on my boot
again. “Many of us were
sceptical, especially about the heart – you’re a dead man
walking, you know that?”

I laugh, nodding.

“
More than you wi
ll
know, Lucian,” I say, sitting back more fully. He looks at me
strangely, but doesn’t pursue it.

“
Say, where exactly are we heading for first?” He questions,
and here I stand, walking to my work desk that overlooks the stern
windows and taking my father’s journal from atop the wooden
surface. I bring it back, sitting down while I leaf through it
until I find the page with the coordinates, setting it down on the
table and turning
it so he
can read – not that he will understand the cipher.