Read Online Copper Centurion (The Steam Empire Chronicles) by Daniel Ottalini - Free Book Online Page B

behind the men. Alexandros believed he was a relatively popular captain; his ship was tightly run and had few discipline problems, and the crew was fanatically loyal to both ship and officers. Alexandros knew he was infringing upon his men’s rare off time, but he wanted the chance to just talk and listen to his crew talking about things that didn’t involve the day-to-day running of the ship. As he claimed a seat, he asked a few tentative questions, made a few slightly off-color jokes, knowing that the men were following strict naval code for talking in the mess.
    We’ve abandoned half of those foolish naval traditions, but we insist on retaining the ones based on food. Because rules about food make the most sense two miles up in the air, he thought sardonically.
    When the suddenly oppressive atmosphere in the room refused to lift, Captain Alexandros gave up. He surrendered his plate to the cook’s assistant with a polite word of thanks and a comment about the cooking, then left the room.
    He could hear conversation spring up behind him as he left. He paused in the hallway, then shook his head and decided to tour the ship. He headed forward, passing crew and officer cabins, storerooms, the wireless room, and finally reaching the forward staircase that curved tightly between decks. He descended quickly to a lower deck humming with the whir of machinery. The air was thicker here, the smell of oil and cleaning materials mixing with the slight tang of sulfur and coal.
    He carefully checked into the long side decks. Lightweight scorpions and their larger ballistae cousins were carefully stowed several feet apart at regular intervals, their ammunition in long lockers against the back wall. The area made Alexandros think of a gymnsaium. Up in the clouds, he amended. There were only a few crewmembers about in the weapons galley. They saluted Alexandros as he passed, and he nodded acknowledgement as he continued aftward.
    The hallway zigged around the arsenal, the most protected and heavily armored place in the ship. The ships’ supply of gunpowder, fuses, and more lightweight weapons such as repeating crossbows and a few sets of anti-boarding armor were safely secured here. Involuntarily, Alexandros’ hand reached for the small keys hanging on a chain around his neck, probing the cluster for the arsenal key. Finding it, he sighed with relief. He always feared that he’d discover he’d lost them at the worst possible moment—when he needed them.
    As he continued aft, the hum and clatter of machinery grew more noticeable, until he stepped into the engine room itself. The construct took up most of the room, pistons pumping and gears clanking. Alexandros greeted his chief engineer with a quick salute and was not surprised at the halfhearted wave that could, maybe, possibly, have been a return salute. It wasn’t about respect, just that Chief Mechanic Idonis Tuderius was far too busy staring at dials and levels and crankshafts to be bothered by anything as mundane as saluting.
    Alexandros had to raise his voice to be heard over the industrial noise. “How is she running? Did you get out the kinks from the refit yet?”
    Tuderius’s eyebrows puckered and he cocked his head to the side, looking quizzically at the captain. Alexandros repeated himself, cupping his hands around his mouth to amplify his voice this time.
    Shaking his head, Tuderius pointed a soot-blackened finger at a series of dials, their needles wavering erratically. “We’re still trying to figure out why we’re getting these incredibly strange readings. My own grandmother could have done a better job installing this than those stupid dockworkers.”
    “Is there anything you need that I can provide to help you out? More men or materials?” Alexandros asked.
    “Well, Captain, a full month’s time in a large hanger with capable ground crews would be a start . . .” He sounded wistful.
    Alexandros smiled grimly and shook his head. “Can’t do; there’s a