Read Online Clockwork Chaos by C.J. Henderson, Bernie Mozjes, James Daniel Ross, James Chambers, N.R. Brown, Angel Leigh McCoy, Patrick Thomas, Jeff Young - Free Book Online
Authors: C.J. Henderson, Bernie Mozjes, James Daniel Ross, James Chambers, N.R. Brown, Angel Leigh McCoy, Patrick Thomas, Jeff Young
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the gondola.
“I said another goddamned brick, and that’s a goddamned order, Boris.”
I indicated the red-hot boiler, even though he couldn’t see it from his position below, dangling in the clockworks. “If I add another brick, it’s going to explode.”
In training, they taught us the boiler was the heart of the bomber. I always liked that description, and I saw myself, as engineer, as the surgeon in charge of keeping the heart strong. A strong heart equaled a strong ship. Too much exertion, and the heart would break.
“If we don’t speed up, we’ll be shredded. Now do it, goddamnit.”
I cursed, picked up a xin rock from the dwindling supply, and shoved it into the hopper, locking it closed. I pulled my goggles over my eyes. The boiler groaned ominously, but the fans quickened.
“It’s in,” I yelled. I closed my eyes, and I prayed.
“Why must you attack?” Zelena asked me the night before. “You haven’t even talked with the Queen, to see if she will surrender.”
That wasn’t entirely true, but I didn’t want to start a long conversation with her about her queen’s barbaric response to our envoy. I tried to sleep, but the drunken singing of my fellow aviators kept me awake. The normally somber tent city pulsed with song and dance, on this, our last night. Many of us would die come morning, and we all knew it. We knew what we faced.
I kissed her forehead. “We attack because we’ve been ordered to attack,” I said.
“You will death,” she said.
I gently corrected her. She’d come a long way in nine months, but she still had issues with certain words in Gremlic. “It’s ‘You will die.’ Or, ‘you will find death.’”
“You will find death. And I don’t want a lesson tonight.”
“If I die, it will be okay,” I said. “My family will be rewarded. It’s an honor to die for the Tsar.”
“And what about me?” she asked, reverting to her native Hellenic.
I’d gotten to where I could understand her language, but speaking it still proved difficult.
“You’ll be fine,” I said in Gremlic. I touched my hand to her belly. “No matter what happens, our baby will be free.”
She looked dubious. A whole generation of propaganda could do that. I’d seen the posters as we first marched into Kozani, of imperial soldiers dangling babies over snarling dogs. All babies born under the Gremlic flag were born free. It was one of our oldest laws. Citizen, slave, felon, or crag. All babies were born free.
She lifted the chain attached to her ankle, shaking it at me. “How can I be fine when I live as a slave? How can I be fine when I know that every soldier I see is responsible for murdering my family?”
“Zelena,” I said. “Please. They will hear.”
She went on, ignoring me. “You say our baby will be free? You have told me slaves aren’t allowed to raise their own children, unless their master says they may. If you die, I will plunge a knife into my heart. I’d rather my son die than be raised by strangers.”
“Don’t say such things,” I said, alarmed. I hadn’t told Zelena the full truth about what would happen to her if I died. She believed she would be put back with the other slaves, to be dispersed amongst the far reaches of the empire, as was the current tradition.
I put my arms around her. She quivered with rage, and her heart beat uncontrollably fast. “Please,” I said. “For the sake of our child, don’t. I promise you, no matter what happens. He will be okay. He will be raised as a good, Gremlic citizen.”
“Boris,” she said, tears streaming down her face. She cupped my face in her hands. “You are a fool. You are as much a slave as I am, only your chains are on the inside.”
She said this often, though I never understood what she meant. As long as she stopped promising to kill our child, I didn’t care. “I may be a fool, but I am a Gremlic fool.”
She looked at me, and her angry and scared eyes softened, but only slightly. “You do
“I said another goddamned brick, and that’s a goddamned order, Boris.”
I indicated the red-hot boiler, even though he couldn’t see it from his position below, dangling in the clockworks. “If I add another brick, it’s going to explode.”
In training, they taught us the boiler was the heart of the bomber. I always liked that description, and I saw myself, as engineer, as the surgeon in charge of keeping the heart strong. A strong heart equaled a strong ship. Too much exertion, and the heart would break.
“If we don’t speed up, we’ll be shredded. Now do it, goddamnit.”
I cursed, picked up a xin rock from the dwindling supply, and shoved it into the hopper, locking it closed. I pulled my goggles over my eyes. The boiler groaned ominously, but the fans quickened.
“It’s in,” I yelled. I closed my eyes, and I prayed.
“Why must you attack?” Zelena asked me the night before. “You haven’t even talked with the Queen, to see if she will surrender.”
That wasn’t entirely true, but I didn’t want to start a long conversation with her about her queen’s barbaric response to our envoy. I tried to sleep, but the drunken singing of my fellow aviators kept me awake. The normally somber tent city pulsed with song and dance, on this, our last night. Many of us would die come morning, and we all knew it. We knew what we faced.
I kissed her forehead. “We attack because we’ve been ordered to attack,” I said.
“You will death,” she said.
I gently corrected her. She’d come a long way in nine months, but she still had issues with certain words in Gremlic. “It’s ‘You will die.’ Or, ‘you will find death.’”
“You will find death. And I don’t want a lesson tonight.”
“If I die, it will be okay,” I said. “My family will be rewarded. It’s an honor to die for the Tsar.”
“And what about me?” she asked, reverting to her native Hellenic.
I’d gotten to where I could understand her language, but speaking it still proved difficult.
“You’ll be fine,” I said in Gremlic. I touched my hand to her belly. “No matter what happens, our baby will be free.”
She looked dubious. A whole generation of propaganda could do that. I’d seen the posters as we first marched into Kozani, of imperial soldiers dangling babies over snarling dogs. All babies born under the Gremlic flag were born free. It was one of our oldest laws. Citizen, slave, felon, or crag. All babies were born free.
She lifted the chain attached to her ankle, shaking it at me. “How can I be fine when I live as a slave? How can I be fine when I know that every soldier I see is responsible for murdering my family?”
“Zelena,” I said. “Please. They will hear.”
She went on, ignoring me. “You say our baby will be free? You have told me slaves aren’t allowed to raise their own children, unless their master says they may. If you die, I will plunge a knife into my heart. I’d rather my son die than be raised by strangers.”
“Don’t say such things,” I said, alarmed. I hadn’t told Zelena the full truth about what would happen to her if I died. She believed she would be put back with the other slaves, to be dispersed amongst the far reaches of the empire, as was the current tradition.
I put my arms around her. She quivered with rage, and her heart beat uncontrollably fast. “Please,” I said. “For the sake of our child, don’t. I promise you, no matter what happens. He will be okay. He will be raised as a good, Gremlic citizen.”
“Boris,” she said, tears streaming down her face. She cupped my face in her hands. “You are a fool. You are as much a slave as I am, only your chains are on the inside.”
She said this often, though I never understood what she meant. As long as she stopped promising to kill our child, I didn’t care. “I may be a fool, but I am a Gremlic fool.”
She looked at me, and her angry and scared eyes softened, but only slightly. “You do
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