Twila shook hands with the governor. Why was she so twitchy? A little fidgeting was normal, but this? This was a lot. A whole lot.
“And the agreed on sum is three hundred fifteen crowns, of which…” Charlie banged on her wrist keys for a moment. “One hundred ten crowns, two masts, and five wheels are mine as the broker.”
The governor wrote on a sheet of parchment and marked it with a device on a ring. He handed it to Twila. “Bring this to my secretary, and she’ll count your coins.”
Twila nodded quickly. “Sure. What else do I need to do?” Her left hand dropped to [Anton’s Pocket Watch]. She ran her thumb along the glass, making a tiny squeak over and over.
“Excellent question,” the governor said as he handed a second paper to Auntie Charlie. “I’ll be sending my employees to the harbor this afternoon. They’ll unload your vessel and cart the various boxes back here. You should inform the rest of the crew and your skipper that they’ll be coming.”
“What about cannons? I want cannons,” Twila said. “[Long Fives], two of them.”
The governor considered for a moment. “I’m afraid that’s not realistic. Each [Long Five] we make costs nearly two hundred crowns. You could acquire one on the secondhand market, but they’re still very expensive. No, you’ll need to acquire more crowns before armaments are in your future.”
“Oh,” Twila said disappointedly. “Could I at least look at them?”
“Yes, that could be arranged. Moa! Give our guests a public tour. Ms. DeWalt and Miss…”
“Twila Tighe,” Twila said.
“I’m not going. I’ll take my money and get back to the harbor,” Charlie said. She winked at Twila and walked down the stairs. “Come see me after you’re done, though.”
“Carter, head back with her. Tell Will and the skipper, and anyone else, Gibson’s coming to unload Hourglass,” Twila said. “Stay out of their way.”
The automaton clunked its way into the office, stopping just at the door as Carter hurried to follow Auntie Charlie. “Hello again, Miss Tighe. I am Moa. I am to give you a public tour of the cannon foundries. Please follow me.”
The tour went down one flight of stairs and started across a narrow catwalk. Moa talked constantly, in its monotonous, flat tone. “These are the forty-pounder carronades. Gibson only makes four at a time, with an inventory of no more than sixteen. Only Royal-class destroyers and carronade-dedicated corvettes can mount these safely, so there is not much demand.”
Below, workers with constantly-ticking gizmos that made their skin glow blue filled sand molds with orange-hot metal. Further ahead, smaller, longer molds sat upright. And on the south side, a small door sat, closed. Twila stared at it for a moment, but no one came out.
“Where are the [Long Fives]?” Twila asked.
“We will see the [Long Five] brassworks soon, and you will also see the completed guns in our warehousing. Please be patient.”
Twila didn’t want to be patient. If she could just see the guns, she thought, that would be like having them. At least a little. Her mind wandered as she followed Moa through the sweltering foundry. The cannons got smaller and smaller - from twenty-four-pound full cannons to twelves, then to Long Nines, Sevens, and finally…
“Here is where we make the [Long Fives],” Moa said. Its joints hissed as it pointed. Below, dozens of molds were being filled with molten brass. An automaton - just like Moa, Twila was amazed to see - dragged a cart around a track. Men, shirtless in the heat with only heavy aprons on, heaved long, narrow cannon barrels onto the cart as it passed.
“Tell me about them.”
“[Long Fives] are Gibson’s smallest airship cannon. Any smaller guns, like the Puckle or self-repeating swivel gun, are considered mounted muskets. The [Long Five] fires a self-contained myst cartridge and requires a crew of two adults - three ship rats could operate one as well. A skilled team can get a shot off every forty-five seconds to a minute.”
“The mounts on ships, who builds them?” An idea was starting to form in Twila’s mind. A really bad idea, but an idea.
“Any skywright should be able to build a [Long Five] mount,” Moa replied. “We can also mount them in-house. This way, please, to warehousing and the installation docks.”
What Moa called a warehouse was, in fact, a whole section of cliff that the foundry had replaced with open-air shelves. A crane, its engine vomiting purple-red smoke, lifted a wide platform up to a shelf filled with cannon barrels, and four men wrestled with a long, heavy iron gun. The other shelves had metal fencing across them.
Far below, a single dock housed a merchantman. A whole army of workers crawled over it, cutting a hole in its hull and lowering a cannon and mount into its hold.
“That is the installation dock. And with that, our tour is at an end,” Moa said. “Please follow me back to the administrative wing.”
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
As they walked back, Twila asked, “Foundry has ways to stop thieves, right?”
“Yes, but most thieves do not try to steal hundred-or-more-pound brass and iron tubes.”
Twila fidgeted silently for the walk back. She traded her piece of paper for a whole sack of coins, almost too many of the golden crowns, and hurried back to the ship.
Carter and Becca were engaged in fierce conversations with a boy of perhaps fourteen. As Twila ran over, she caught the end of Carter’s sentence. “ - and when the money gets here, you and your skywright will get right to work, correct?”
“Of course, of course. We just won’t do anything without getting paid - not with an unknown ship,” the boy said.
“Alright. Crowns are here. How much to fix Hourglass?” Twila asked.
“The boy said one hundred fifty crowns, plus materials. We agreed on one hundred fifty-five flat,” Carter said, looking proud of himself. “And I skilled up [Bargaining]!”
“Fine. Fix her. Another twenty for [Long Five] mounts. Can you do those?” Twila asked. She handed the coins over.
“Yeah, we can do them. How many? Two or four would be safe for her size and lift.”
“Two for now. Bow-mounted. She’s a pirate hunter.”
The boy rolled his eyes. “If you say so. There’s a better option, though. Tracks. We can mount tracks to the deck so she can have a bow and a stern gun and still do broadsides. Takes myst to move the guns, though. Twenty-five crowns.”
“Yeah. Hourglass needs those.”
He took the coins and started leaving. “I’ll be back soon with the rest of the apprentices. We’ll have her skyshape in a day or two.”
Once the skywright apprentice had left, Twila shouted into the hold. “Will. We’re coming into the skipper’s cabin. Clear out if you need to.”
“Thanks, skipper,” The sad-sounding boy replied.
She turned to her crew. “Ship meeting, right now. Got to discuss something.”
When the crew headed down to the somewhat chilly but less smelly skipper’s cabin, Will was gone. Twila shut the windows and pulled the door closed.
“We’re going after the foundry’s [Long Fives],” she said.
For a moment, the crew sat silently. Then everyone started talking at once.
“So we’re just going pirate?’
“We can’t! It’s too risky!”
“I’m not going in there! They’ll kill us!”
Twila let them shout and yell for a minute. They needed to get used to the idea. Then she held up her hand.
“Took a tour. It looks easy. We’ll fly Hourglass to the dock, grab some [Long Fives], and fly off. Nice and simple,” Twila said. She hadn’t seen anyone with a musket, after all. It might even be easier than stealing back the Hourglass from Iswixel.
The others looked skeptical, but Rosie nodded slowly. “If you really think so, skipper,” she mumbled.
Something moved in the hold. “Will, that you?” Twila asked.
“No, it’s your favorite auntie!” A woman’s sharp voice shouted. “I couldn’t help overhear you while I was, ah, inspecting your hull. You’re going to go after Gibson’s guns?”
“Why would you think that?” Carter lied. “We’re just a crew waiting for their skipper to wake up and playing games.”
“I know there’s no skipper on board the Hourglass, unless you count the thirteen-year-old ship rat I’ve been talking to all mid-day,” Charlie said. She rattled the door handle. “Let me in. I’ve got a business proposition for you.”
“Don’t do it. She’ll have us arrested. Or worse, want something out of it,” Carter said.
Twila hesitated, her hand on the door handle. What did Auntie Charlie want, anyways? The woman had proven she’d always want something. She looked at her crewmates' faces. Carter shook his head. Rosie nodded hers.
She gulped and pulled open the door.
----------------------------------------
[Twila Tighe, Ship Rat Mystgineer, Equipment Level 1.09 (Myst 1/10, Hit Points 1/1)]
[Head - Empty]
[Eyes - Myst Lens (lvl. 1) Myst Sight (passive) See own status block and others’ classes]
[Chest - Ship Rat’s Harness (lvl. 0)]
[Waist - Apprentice Mystgineer’s Bandolier (lvl. 1) Deep Pockets (passive) - Equip an additional Gizmo]
[Legs - Canvas Overalls (lvl. 0)]
[Gizmo #1 - Basic Myst Tools (lvl 1) Skill - Tinkering]
[Gizmo #2 - Anton’s Pocket Watch (lvl. 4)] Redo (active, 5 myst/5 seconds) - redo the last five seconds of time, with knowledge of what’s happening (1 minute to reset); Skill - Piloting]
[Gizmo #3 - Empty]
[Gizmo (Belt) - Mystwork Lantern (lvl. 2): Mystlight (active, 25% failure chance, 1 myst/attempt) - start the light; Adjustable Light Aura (sustained, .5-2 myst/tick) - light a variable area; Skill - Perception]
[Myst Battery - Basic Myst Battery (lvl. 1) Small Storage (passive) - 10 myst maximum, requires condenser to refill]
[Weapon/Pair - Anton’s Paired Pistols (lvl. 2) Smoothbore Myst-Shot (active, 1 cartridge/shot) - fire a ray of heated myst; Rapid Shots (active, 2 myst/shot) - fire twice/tick; Skill - Marksman]
[Weapon/Pair - Empty]
[Skill #1 - Tinkering 1]
[Skill #2 - Perception 2]
[Skill #3 - Piloting 4]
[Skill #4 - Marksman 2]
[Skill #5 - Empty]