Farley, Bethany, and Badrine followed the defector and the engineer’s mate down a narrowing corridor, Farley’s revolver never more than an arshin from the Bexarian’s backs.

“Why do you suppose she did that? Revenge for her father and the crew?” Badrine wondered. The conversation had drifted to Clotilde as soon as Farley had finished briefing Badrine on those pieces of the battle he had not seen. They were as eager as Bethany for Miss Luft to wake, though for much more academic reasons. Theories as to how she and the other survivors - she could not have done it alone, they were certain - had lived, let alone reached land after the maelstrom that was Tess’ sinking flew between them, until Farley had mentioned her killing of the officer.

Before answering Badrine, the marine looked about and frowned: “if we must speculate, well, a single girl, of the enemy, in a place like this. I will not say the words, not in present company.”

Badrine was aghast but gathered himself quickly, asking, “but why him, specifically.”

“As an orchestrator, for indulging himself, ask her yourself if she ever manages to speak. She could be quite mad and he a perfect gentleman.”

“This is ghoulish, leave off,” Bethany insisted.

Farley gave her a long look of sincere regret, “you are right, she is your friend, even if she were not, she is a lady. It seems I have lost my manners with my blood. Is she being well cared for?”

“She is in my cabin, the steward will look on her, though he is treating the badly wounded sailors first.”

“And that is satisfactory?”

“Yes, yes, she needs to left alone, more than anything.”

The defector halted before a hatch, it was unlocked but dogged shut. He began to turn the wheel to unseal it when Farley stopped him, “can you guarantee there are no men behind there?”

The defector turned to the engineer’s mate, they exchanged a few words until the defector reported, “he says none of his fellows would be here, the boilers weren’t lit, so no need of them.”

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

Badrine leaned in, “boilers?”

“Yes, yes, boilers and more I cannot understand, you will see soon,” the defector replied.

“Go on and open it,” Farley allowed, taking several steps back. Shooting a glance at Bethany and Badrine, he tapped his revolver’s holster. Bethany drew the smaller of her two pistols, Badrine hesitated, confused, but had his revolver out before the hatch was open. They did not need them, the hatch opened onto a vast black room, devoid of life and freezing.

The engineer’s mate muttered something to the defector, pointing at the lantern in Farley’s free hand.

“He wants it, so he can show you,” the defector translated. Farley passed the lamp forward. Taking it, the mate bounded ahead and found a chain descending from some invisible point in the ceiling. He gave it a sharp tug and several iron ventilation slats opened, letting the dawn light in. They could see the extent of the room now, it reminded Bethany of a cathedral more than anything, a gently vaulted ceiling with boilers - the pews - lined up along a central aisle. It was more solidly built than the rest of the fortification, with iron and masonry taking the place of packed dirt, though the floor was still mud, save for some duckboards to give the carts of coal a place to roll.

The mate began speaking quickly, pointing to machines and areas of the room. He was scolded in Bexarian by the defector and began again, very slowly.

“Who is the engineer here?” the defector asked, evidently on the mate’s behalf.

Badrine indicated himself, stepping forward, “alright, good sir, he asks if you are familiar with a ‘fireless locomotive’.”

“I am,” Badrine answered.

The defector relayed that and the mate made a long statement. It was translated haltingly, “he says, sir, that the airship uses such a thing for propulsion, only very big, says coal bunkers and feedwater are far too heavy. The boilers you see are stoked and very hot... ‘super-heated’ does that follow, sir, super-heated?”

Badrine nodded.

“Very good, super-heated water is pumped up the tower, you must have seen it outside, correct? Yes it goes up the tower and into the tanks, well built tanks, on the airship and when the engineers there wish it, they make steam with it, do not ask me how. And the steam drives a rotor... a fan?”

“Turbine?” Badrine put in.

“Yes, I suspect that it is it.”

“How does it float though? Is that not the better question?” Farley demanded.

“It is not actually, that is simple enough, some lighter than air chemical,” Badrine responded, “the real trick is the propulsion, as I said before every airship I know of, save this one, had to be anchored to the ground, they had no means of choosing a course or going against the wind.”

“You mean to say these scoundrels are innovators?”

“Yes, in this instance,” Badrine answered then began to wander the room. He paused before some round vessels and addressed the defector, “ask him if these are holding tanks for the superheated water.”

The mate nodded.

“When the airship comes, does it empty them?”

After that was translated the mate nodded again.

“How long can it go before taking on more superheated water? Not long, I suspect, even the best insulated vessels will lose heat all the time and with no fires to replenish them...”

The defector did not put this to the mate, answering himself, “she comes around once every three weeks or so, sometimes sooner if she is moving fast, sometimes a week later if she finds good wind and can drift back.”

Farley looked sharply at Badrine, who next asked “when was it last here?”

“A fortnight by my reckoning, I can refer to our logs, oh, provided they were not burned.”