to complain about it?”
“Never has that been said of an Irishman,” Komlan agreed with a grin, then shook his head. “I’m only a working man, same as those in the cargo hold. I’ve no say over a business that’s not mine to own, or how they earn their profits; I go where I’m told to go and hire men who’ll give their labor in exchange for the price the boss has offered. It’s not much, but in return they’ll also receive meals, clothing, and a warm place to rest their heads—all of which is in scarcer supply here than about anywhere else.”
“It’s truth, that is,” Dooley admitted with a sigh.
“An unfortunate one.” Komlan echoed his sigh before asking, “Have you been long from home?”
“That I have. Too long.”
Not as long as Dooley might go on about it, as David had discovered on their first expedition together. Goltzius had already been given a taste of the same on their journey here. He glanced at the botanist, who watched the two men with an expression reflecting troubled thoughts. His frown smoothed when he noted David’s attention, replaced by a wry smile.
Moving in closer, Goltzius said, “Shall we wager on who outlasts the other?”
David would put his money on Dooley. But he shook his head. “There’s no point to it.
We
won’t last long enough to find out who won.”
In truth, he didn’t care to last even a minute more. David left them to their reminiscing, suddenly impatient for the cargo lift’s return. There was only one person whose origin interested him—and she was already aboard the airship.
Aside from the enormous white balloon hovering overhead , the main deck of
Phatéon
’s wooden cruiser looked much like the sailing ships that David had been on. Tethered to the docks, it swayed much like a ship did, too. The bobbing forced him to stop and adjust to the motion before he could take a step without staggering. The ride would smooth out as soon as the engines fired and the airship was under way. Until then, he had to be mindful of his shifting weight.
He didn’t see the woman on deck, but wasn’t surprised. A storm was headed in, the wind icy and the deck boards slippery with rain; she’d be warm in her cabin by now. Within the hour, however, she’d probably sit at the captain’s table for dinner, along with any other passengers. He could wait until then.
Captain Vashon herself welcomed them aboard, a tall and impressive woman with iron threading through the black hair at her temples. Hailing from a family of French aeronauts made famous by their military exploits and made wealthy by their merchant activities, she had a reputation to uphold. She did it well, David thought. He’d heard nobles who’d have been hard pressed to match the cultured tones of her speech, had seen heads of state with less immaculate uniforms.
She eyed David’s face and hand without comment, which he expected. Few people remarked on his prosthetics, no matter how long they stared. When her attitude toward him didn’t change afterward, that was just as rare—and he liked her for it.
Her welcome was followed by a query whether they had any other needs or concerns to address before their departure. Though David burned to ask her about the woman, he didn’t dare. Men didn’t ask after unrelated female passengers. If the captain suspected any untoward interest, he’d likely spend the entire journey separated from her.
When they all responded in the negative, Vashon’s gaze fell on him again, and she anticipated the question he
would
have voiced. “There is a lady aboard who looks forward to seeing you, Mr. Kentewess.”
A woman with whom he would easily spend more than three minutes in conversation—his aunt by marriage, and the only family he had left. Lucia Kentewess had been serving as ship’s physician aboard
Phatéon
for ten years now. “Thank you, Captain.”
Her dignified nod could have rivaled a queen’s. “It is my pleasure. Monsieur Dubois will show you to her
Learning to Kill: Stories