Hawthorn checked his fob watch as we waited, before closing it crisply. "If we are attacked, fall to the forest floor below." he said softly.

It was really far below. Like 20, 30 feet. Overgrown moss and foliage did cover much of the forest floor, and there was a part of the track over water ahead of the engine, looked decently deep. I did not want to test myself and my athletic ability. But I also realized Hawthorn hadn't meant specified that the steam-starved attacked. He was thinking about an oncoming ambush. I recalled the almost greasy puppy kicking guy, how he had done some kind of weird finger waggle thing, and had controlled the steam to attack Hawthorn.

Rapidly descending may be better than being in the middle of an attack.

Just because this world worked with movie logic did not mean other logic couldn't be used. "Are the scouts sent out to watch out for the barneys?"

Hawthorn adjusted his slivery tie, scanning. "The steam-starved? In part."

"And also in part so people who can causally do backflips are spread out, also improving our odds of finding...anything else interesting?"

"I always envied the foresters." he frowned. "And yes. They would be the hardest people to control, should the situation grow dire. As long as there is order and they feel like they have a direction, it is better than so many powerful people sitting in a room together, feeling helpless. Should a free for all happen, I cannot trust that they will react well. And perhaps they will find a shelter."

The sound of more birds flying away, increased the pressure of the silence.

"Are the barneys getting close? I mean, the steam-starved."

"The scouts will report once there are sightings. You know, you aren't the first person to call them barneys." Hawthorn said, "Really odd gentleman in Special yard calls them that too."

I wanted to ask more questions, because holy cow was there someone else from Earth here, traumatized by the purple and green beast, but the older lady returned, helping someone.

"Stay with me for now. Watch my back."

The older lady was returning briskly, helping a young woman who looked old enough to be a grad student. Then again, in her functional but beautifully arranged gown, she looked more together than any grad student I'd ever seen at college. The dress was functional brown, but there was embroidery all the way up the skirt and bodice. Her hair was up, pinned, and not a single fly away was allowed to remain. She also apparently broken her ankle, given the splint, and had either bruised or bashed her head, given the thick bandage. Watching her determined glimpy steps, I wondered that if we had to abandon the train, maybe one of the ninjas could give her a piggyback ride or something.

"You are doing it wrong." she said, briskly, in just as crisp an accent as Hawthorn.

"Are you the steam engineer?" He asked her, towering over her like a mountain (How tall was Hawthorn anyway? He always seemed so huge and brooding around everyone but Yu Lin.)

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

She waved her hand, looking past him to the people surrounding the engine "You are going to detassle the regualoral coils!" she said, not allowing the woman helping her to slow down but kept clunking forward. "You, the one in the blue shirt," she started yelling at the brit rated people tinkering about the engine. "Stop that and use the left triphase conductor loop. You in the grey kimono, what are you, steam blind? Up, then back to second phase adapter! And you with the top hat..." she paused, "You are doing it right. Good work." She was next to Hawthorn at this point in time. "Let's walk and talk." she said.

"You are a steam engineer." he said, falling into step next to her.

She snorted, pulling off a dainty little glove and discarding it on the track without a glance as she then pulled out Thanos' gauntlet from a side purse.

Okay, it was not Thanos' gauntlet, but it was in that ballpark. It was large, like a falconer's glove, and went all the way to her elbow. It was constructed of small and moving cogs, glowing crystals, and two little glass cylinders of what looked like steam.

"You are the steam engineer." Hawthorn answered his own question.

I picked up the little dainty glove she threw away, because I had no gloves at all. And I could always give it back later. Look, I know enough about movies and books. If the glove was dropped, I would need it later!

"Yes. My name is Jessamee Rogers. I was on this train returning from the Atala project. That Atala project. I'm the assistant to the assistant to the sub head minor director."

While some of the brit rated people, the ones checking the brakes near us, looked super impressed, Hawthorn seemed nonplussed. He gestured at the massive engine ahead of us. "Tell, engineer, what does the steam say?"

She pulled out an honest monocle and gazed at the massive construct for a moment. "It's the strangest thing. I thought the flow must have dissolved, but the matrix is still firm. It's a hardware issue, but this train should have been newly serviced." she said, frowning and pulling her little monocle away. "I just can't understand it."

I saw Hawthorn's approval of her dip just a bit. The sternness in his eyes firmed. That's fine. She wasn't special, like me. I bet she wouldn't throat punch a train conductor! I made eye contact with Hawthorn and he tilted his head. He wanted to know what I thought. I am special! I gave him my nod. She seemed fine.

But she also seemed really confused about trying to solve this puzzle. I tried to guide her back on track. "You know, Jessamee, let's not worry about why it happened. Let's get this train fixed."

She looked at me strangely for a second. So did Hawthorn. I guess maybe no one used first names here. She frowned, and I thought I might get in trouble, but then I realized she had returned back to her question "But why is it not working?"

"Life happens, stuff happens. Do you know the mechanical side too, because I think the dual trion rods are shot or something." I added. "Let's figure out why later, and just fix it now."

Ha! She didn't understand and wasn't paronaid enough to accept reality. "Yes, of course I am. Every steam engineer has to come up from machincal." she pulled out a little gold fob watch. "We should still have enough time. I can see were the steam is not flowing, and from there we can replace the broken part. Mrs Lee, can you please help me get to the front venrial?"

Hawthorn watched her go.

"She seems legit." I said.

"Indeed. And a lucky find."

I did a headcount, silently in my head. "We are missing someone." I said.

"What?"

"I just realized...I was so focused on the new person coming out, so it would be the perfect time for someone to slip away. Where is Sam Craig?"

Hawthorn and I both looked. The people working on the brake lines joined us.

And we found him. It didn't take us long. He was standing on the top of the engine.

Sam Craig was not looking good.

He looked green in the face, blood vessels nearly popping as he swung a heavy wrench. Only thing I could think was zombie virus.

"He's name-bound!" one of the people cried.

"How long has this been on?'

"Watch out!"