CHAPTER EIGHT: WOMEN'S LIB GOES TOO FAR
Setzer returned to work the next day, the day after that, and the day following that. It was very difficult, and he often considered leaving, but he never gave in. Letters came from his parents, and whenever he read them (he never threw one away; he kept them in a special box), he felt that he could tackle anything.
At the smithy, Setzer grew accustomed to the sounds and smells of the place, and learned to ignore them. His co-workers gradually gave their grudging acceptance; although they still made jibes at his expense from time to time, they gave him no trouble. Nevertheless, Setzer always had a knife and revolver on him at all times.
Some of the more couth workers were on quite friendly terms with Setzer, and Livius was always kind and helpful; Setzer counted the electrical engineer a s a good friend. The only man who continued to dislike the young man was Coroban, but Setzer tread carefully, and there were no more clobberings.
Gradually, over the years, Setzer began to do more than balance the books. He never was an expert, but he learned the very basics of metallurgy from the workers, and he was soon able to weld. From Livius, he received a smattering of information about electrical wiring, though the boy never really understood it, and how to fix an engine. In his free time, Setzer continued his own studies, reading far into the night to learn math, science, and reading literature; Benedick turned out to be a fine history teacher, as many Domans have a healthy respect for the past, and the old man gave his master lessons in knife-fighting.
But it was Setzer's financial and business instincts that truly were put to use. Often at lunchtime, he would quickly belt down his meal and simply look at the place around him. There was so much potential for the business, if Mulciber would only stop to think about how to manage it properly. The men were making fine machines, weapons, and jewelry, but they always made too much because the dwarf did not advertise well at all. Hardly anybody knew about Mulciber's shop, and the man barely made profits for himself. Setzer could not stomach such glaring errors.
Convincing Mulciber to change his ways was a chore. The first time Setzer dared approach with a few suggestions, the dwarf had roared out that he should mind his business and had flung a pair of tongs at him. Setzer found help in Livius and, strangely enough, Ratchet. Mulciber took more kindly to the two men. Setzer therefore used these two as go-betweens; Livius was glad to help, and Ratchet was not adverse to dropping a few hints here and there. Mulciber listened to these two; later on, when he caught on to where all the new ideas and extra revenue was coming from, he finally acknowledged the boy.
Setzer grew more and more vital to Mulciber. The man didn't know much about economics, and as his business improved, he needed to rely on his scar-faced employee more and more heavily. Setzer's duties increased, as did his standing. The shop soon had double its workforce to keep up with production and orders.
Setzer also changed physically during this time. His face, just slightly lopsided on the right, lost the childlike look about it; his scars dulled and shrank and became less inflamed. His shoulders broadened, and the years of having only just enough food to keep him from being hungry made him slim and sinewy. He had a dainty, slender waist and a wiry figure which carried a surprising amount of strength. He had become a young man.
He continued to live with Benedick in the apartment, a life that neither pleased nor displeased Setzer. They got new furniture and could afford a few luxuries, but it did not satisfy him. He forced himself to be patient and bide his time. He worked hard and long, thinking of better days which would come from his efforts.
Finally, when Setzer was twenty-one years old, Mulciber asked the young man to stay in the workshop after hours. After all the workers had departed, Setzer and his dwarfish boss sat down at a workbench.
"I have to admit," Mulciber said, pouring them both glasses of strong ale, "I have had the luck since I took you on board. You've done me and my boys good service."
"Thanks, boss."
"But I didn't call you up here to thank you. I'll tell you straight, boy: I don't care much for bein' a boss. Paperwork makes me want to puke. All I care about is this." He slapped an anvil. "Hell, you know what? I've decided to let you take over this place--but I've got some terms."
"What would those be?" Setzer asked, feeling a bit faint.
"As the boss, you'd tell all the men what to make and what not to make. That's all well and good. But I want a little team of men for my own. I want to continue my work, and I get to choose what to do. Just five or ten men, that's all I ask. The rest is yours."
"Done!" Setzer cried.
"Aw, wait a sec. One more thing. You promise me that you won't fire Coroban unless I say you can."
That was a disappointment. How did Mulciber know that firing Coroban was on the top of his list?
"All right, but I'm not happy about it," Setzer relented. "I don't see why you'd care."
"He's my kin." Mulciber said simply. "If he's anyone's concern, he's mine. Nobody else's."
"All right."
"Shake on it, then. I hate signin' papers."
The two shook hands. Setzer remained calm and poised, but on the inside he was singing with jubilation; he wanted to jump, turn cartwheels, and scream like a loon for joy.
"My first act," he said to Mulciber, "is to make you my head foreman, my second-in-command, if you will. You will have control over all the men; only my orders take the place of yours. And you'll get that task force by tomorrow."
************
Setzer used his new powers to their fullest extent. Almost immediately he gave the entire structure an overhaul: he divided the workers up into separate divisions, one for munitions, one for machines, another for jewelry, and Mulciber's little team. He hired a small group of advertisers, accountants, and lawyers, and he reconstructed the building (along with proper bathrooms--he didn't forget that!). Setzer also appointed Livius as the head engineer and made Ratchet Assistant Head Foreman, which was the third highest source of authority in Setzer's business, below only Mulciber and himself.
His most significant deal, the one that truly changed his future, was to offer his services to the Empire. The Empire had by this time slowly conquered the whole southern continent save for the very west, reducing the main city in the north, Tzen, to a puppet state through gradual wearing away of its military and ingenious political maneuvering by the Emperor. But Tzen occasionally chaffed, and many men and arms were needed to put down the annoying revolts. Also, the Empire had constantly been attempting to make Maranda capitulate, and a great military force was being prepared around the time Setzer took over the business. Thus when Setzer offered the prospect of a source of arms and factory machinery, the government sprang at the chance.
A charter was drawn up, stating that Setzer's business had the right to do with its jewelry and ornamental weapons as it saw fit, but that the Empire had first priority in the orders of machines and arms. The government was so eager for the aid, the conditions of the charter favored Setzer greatly.
Life became much more pleasant very quickly. The Empire ordered in such great quantities that Setzer needed to triple his work force yet again and build new factories to keep up with demand. Profits skyrocketed, and Setzer became wealthy.
He moved out of his apartment and built a fine house at the very north of Vector, in a pleasant, undeveloped green stretch of hilly land dotted with wildflowers and maple trees. The house was two stories high, had acres of well-manicured grounds, and he filled it with elegant chairs, glass tables, crystal goblets, and beautiful and rich curios and soft carpets, though he avoided being ostentatious. He only needed five new servants: two maids, a gardener, a cook, and a chauffeur. Benedick remained as Setzer's personal servant.
Setzer was a most conscientious director. He always knew what went on in his business, scrutinized his accounts personally, and busied himself every day with all the countless little tedious aspects of business. But now he was not quite so busy as he had been, and found himself making up for the dear time he had lost.
Rich, young, and good-looking, Setzer whiled away the evenings and nights in the company of some of the most respectable names in Vector. He soon established a reputation as a devilishly charming, refined young blade; no decent party could start without him. He attended dances, balls, and receptions; once he even attended a gathering in which the great Emperor himself was present, though Setzer only caught the barest glimpse of the ruler's flowing robes throughout the entire night. But it did not grieve him. For members of Ruadh's family attended the Emperor's banquet, too, he learned later, and they actually knew that he had been there, too. But they hadn't accosted him. They had actually gone out of their way to avoid him! If Ruadh's clan had retained their rancor and lust for vengeance, they didn't dare do anything: Setzer was now richer and more influential than they--the Empire cherished its factory owners almost as much as their soldiers. Moreover, Ruadh's past had certainly not been without its own blemishes, and, as they say, beggars don't make fun of beggars. Setzer knew perfect freedom, and it was sweet.
The young man hosted many parties at his own expense, and they were known as the wildest events Vector had ever seen, for his money certainly did not all go to the upkeep of his home and business. He built two large casinos, and in these he held his revels, inviting great businessmen and government officials and their wives . He played cards and roulette with the men and dined on the daintiest foods and danced long into the night with the women, all in Stray's name.
Women. He had gone too without them, it felt like. How many lonely, cold nights in his old apartment had he spent in his bed, waking up from hot dreams drenched in his own sweat and pumping? More than he cared to remember. And now he was surrounded by the pick of Vector, dressed in their gauzy silks and heavy velvets, sparkling and whirling, women who adored him. He kept his eyes and voice low in their presence, brooding as he did when he had flirted with the girls in Jidoor, and they loved it just as much. He danced and kissed with many, courted five or six for brief periods of time, slept with one or two, and none of them lost their passion for him. Once he and a young woman jumped into a fountain at a garden party, laughing and kissing underneath the streams of water; he was certainly not a dull lover.
One whirl of gaiety and splendor came after another, catching the young man up in their heat and ecstasy, that he sometimes could go for days without troubling himself with anything except his work. Thoughts of Lorenzo sleeping in barns and sheds every night, of J.J. in his cheerless prison, of Mandy and Benny, even of his parents never once came to him during these times. And when he sat down and remembered, he made resolutions; he would visit his parents and old friends, he would use his wealth to look for Lorenzo, and use his influence to find out where J.J. was. And after he made these resolutions, he always thought to himself, I shall do it first thing tomorrow when I get home from work. Then the whirl would catch him up, again and again.
One matter did turn his attentions from pleasure. When Setzer reached his twenty-fourth year that he came up with the concept of the airship.
Flying had been a relatively new concept, one that only Vector possessed the means and money to flesh out, but the Empire had already massed together a fleet of aerial machines, the IAF (Imperial Air Force.) The machines could not fly at very high altitudes nor could more than two people fit in them at once. They took up so much fuel that it wasn't worth sending them any farther than Albrook, but the technology existed and was being improved on constantly. One day, while he was out on a pleasure barge with some of his friends, Setzer, leaning on the ship's balustrade, saw one of the flying machines coasting very close to the sun-streaked water. The three glasses of wine he had drunk may have had a hand in the whole affair, but as Setzer watched the IAF jerry and felt the boat rocking beneath his feet, an idea came to him: Why not make a flying ship, an airship?
An airship, Setzer deduced, couldn't be more unwieldy and impractical than one of those noisy things. Why not go to Livius and see if it could be done?
Setzer, when he sobered up a little, later disregarded the idea as a drunken fancy. But no matter how hard he tried to put it from his mind, the idea kept on nagging him; Setzer knew that such tenacious thoughts should not be taken lightly.
So the next day, he called Livius, Ratchet, and Mulciber into his office and told them his idea.
"Do you think it could work, Livius? Is there a chance it might be possible?" Setzer asked.
"I--suppose--it--could," the engineer replied hesitantly. The changes to the old workshop had done Livius much good; he did not cough nearly as often nor as hard, though he always looked sallow and tired. His spectacles gleamed as he put his chin in his hand. "But it'd need more than just simple propellers to make it lift, and the wood would have to be strong but light, and--"
"Why don't you just hang it by a balloon? Hydrogen's got lots a' lift, though it'd blow up in your face any chance it got," Mulciber snorted.
"Yes, yes...yes!" Livius shouted; his tired eyes burned with energy. "That's the way! Why wouldn't a balloon--I mean, if we suspended the 'ship' part of the contraption by a canvass of some type filled with a gas lighter than air--oh, yes!"
"Do you think you could make a model or some type, Livius?" Setzer asked, leaning forward on his desk.
"Why, I suppose I could, if Ratchet could help me. He's better at hammering out materials and whittling wood than I am. Ratchet?"
"I don't have any objections," came the answer.
"Great!" Setzer grinned broadly, tapping his fingers rapidly in joy. "Work on it right away. Take all the materials you need. And Mulciber, help them out if they need it."
"If and only if," the dwarf grunted. Livius gave a whoop and dragged Ratchet out the door. Setzer leaned back in his chair and spun around in circles. Gods, he had great workers!
************
Two weeks later, Livius rushed into Setzer's office. He held an object the size of a large dog in his arms, draped in a bedsheet.
"It's finished," the engineer panted. Livius looked haggard, half-starved, and deliriously happy.
"Don't keep me waiting, man," Setzer cried. "Let's see it!"
Livius placed the object on the coffee table and whipped off the bedsheet.
It really was a strange and wonderful contraption. It had the body of a ship, though slimmed and lengthened a little, and several cables connected the ship to some canvass which had been inflated into an ellipsoid. The ship had four engines, two large and two small, placed so that the large engines were set evenly between the prow and stern of the ship; the smaller engines were placed near the balloon to provide some extra speed for the back.
"It's beautiful," Setzer breathed.
"Thank you," Livius beamed. "Ratchet and I worked day and night to make this. And it works, too! Watch!"
The engineer snatched a small remote control from his vest pocket and pressed a button. The little engines whirred to life, humming softly. Livius pressed his thumb forward on a toggle-switch, and the airship zoomed off the coffee table, hovering in the air.
"I can make it go up and down. It can take sharp banks real easily as well," Livius boasted. He toggled the switch, and the two large engines turned downwards at an angle, causing the ship to go upwards. He then guided the model in a series of dives and turns; Setzer looked on in unspeakable delight.
"Gods, Livius, you are a fucking genius!" Setzer shouted. He ran from his desk and hugged Livius with all his might.
"Send in Ratchet, Livius. I want to talk to you two. And Mulciber--get him, too." Setzer said, finally releasing the engineer. The order was carried out swiftly, and soon the young man addressed all three:
"Well done. I can't say anything else. You have done all I asked, and more.
"But now that I see it's feasible, I'm determined to make this think a reality. I have always wanted to fly since I was a little boy. Not in one of those wretched IAF planes, but in something that I could stand on, walk on, and truly experience the sensation of flight. And, by the gods, I'm going to do it. It'll cost money, but to hell with that! I have enough.
"But this is what I want you all to do. Ratchet, Mulciber, Livius, I want to keep this thing a secret as long as possible. No-one is going to steal this, dammit, and I don't want the government sticking in its nose until I can show them something. This thing has so much potential. It could carry huge amounts of goods in short periods of time--much faster than a train or ship. You are not to say a word about this, all right? Promise by all the gods you will!"
Mulciber and Livius mumbled their oaths. Ratchet said stiffly, "I have no love for the Empire. Why would I give them the jump on anybody?" These responses satisfied Setzer, and he continued in a hurried voice.
"Good. I am going to build a hangar of sorts onto this building. We'll start construction in there. I'll form a special department to work on the project. Livius, I appoint you as head engineer. Ratchet, you'll supervise the whole thing. I also want you and Mulciber to go out among the men and pick the most trustworthy to work on the airship. You know them better than I do."
"It won't be hard to find normal workers. Those that are inexperienced but loyal can be trained quite easily" Livius said, his brow furrowing in worry. "But getting engineers--that's another story. We don't have very many of them here, and I don't trust them all."
"It's that damn Professor Cid and his hoity-toity MagiTek crap," Mulciber said. "Yellow coat-sportin' pussy's been taking all the good engineers."
"I see," Setzer groaned; his heart sank, but then he had an idea. "Start on it anyway, Livius, and get what help you can. I'll get you some more help. Leave it to me."
"And how do you expect to pull that off?" Ratchet asked.
"Easy," Setzer grinned. "Take out an ad."
*************
Setzer was as good as his word: He deluged Vector's technical institutes with all sorts of media offering good wages and benefits for promising young engineers. A wave of starving young students flocked to the factories. Some were sent away, some were accepted, an presently Setzer had gathered enough trustworthy assistants for Livius. The young man would have liked to have had a few more, but Livius could get by.
Construction on the airship began in the new hangar, behind doors that were locked from the inside and guarded on the out. Setzer himself helped in production. He could not assist in the building of the engines--there were simply too many things to learn about in too short a time--but he could work on the body, nailing boards and welding. Everyone who was selected for the special team of shipwrights (mostly imported from Albrook), engineers, and, various other workers were conditioned to never tell a soul about the special project; only Livius, Ratchet, and Setzer had access to the entire set of blueprints.
Clandestine as the project was, Setzer knew that rumors and stories about the airship would inevitably slip out. And people did talk, though, strangely, no-one in the upper echelons of society nor anyone from the government seemed informed. The stories were whispered among the lower classes in the cafes, in alleyways, and in the secrecy of the home; some of the rumors so fanciful and ridiculous that Setzer could not help but laugh at them. As long as people kept it to themselves, he supposed he could live with gossip.
Only one person outside of the privileged workers ever saw the airship before it was completed, but it turned out that this did not harm the secrecy, for the person was someone who wanted to fly as much as Setzer did, and had great loyalty for the project. He name was Daryl.
*************
One morning, Setzer arrived early to work on some minor repairs on the airship's balustrade. One of the joints had cracked; thankfully, only a little light welding was needed.
The airship's body had been calculated for the greatest efficiency and aerodynamics, so Livius had given the green light for the skeleton and part of the top deck to be constructed The workers could do little else before Livius and his engineers drew up final, solid blueprints for the inner workings and engines, so they had to make do with building the balustrade and filling in the very top parts of the sides.
Grabbing an acetylene torch, goggles, and gloves, Setzer made his way in through the empty hangar. He had closed the great doors behind him, but he was lax about locking the things. It was quite early, with only Mulciber and a few others working in their stations, and the men knew that the hangar was for only selected personnel. There was no danger.
Setzer was nearly finished with the joint when he detected a movement through the doorway in his peripheral vision. He turned off his torch, removed his goggles, and swung his legs over the edge of the scaffold's platform. He thought it was one of the airship team.
Well, Lawks, it wasn't.
A young woman stood almost directly beneath the scaffolding, smiling up widely at him. Her face, a soft and round shape, looked neither old nor young; but a soft aureole of youthful vigor radiated from the strong, pleasant, almost nondescript features.
He was too taken aback to even get angry at this horrid breach of security. Connoisseur he was, he couldn't help but look over her every charm and asset. And she had quite a few, notwithstanding her lackluster face. Thick ringlets of strawberry blond hair hung luxuriously past her ears and down her shoulders to the middle of her back, golden highlights glinting faintly. She was neither fat nor thin, but she had a wonderful shape. Her waist was round and plump like a young tree, well-proportioned with her curvy hips.
The lover of airships and women could easily take in and digest almost every aspect of his intruding guest's physique, because she wore a rather unladylike ensemble: a skin-tight bodice of a black material with a deeply curving neckline (setting off an ample bust), black knee-length pumps, bulky leather gloves, and a red jacket that reached to her calves, dotted with innumerable pockets. She smacked a wrench against the palm of her hand as she grinned up at him. She had one of the deepest, widest set of dimples he had ever seen.
"Hullo!" the young lady called up, waving her wrench. Her voice was a rich contra-alto, but very easy to hear. "Are you Setzer Gabbiani? The men said that I'd find him in here."
"This--this place is off-limits! Please remove yourself at once. How did they let you in here, anyway?!" Setzer cried shakily. Everything he held dear was in jeopardy! He nearly felt sick with fear.
"Oh, they told me it was restricted," the woman said, looking not in the least chagrined, "but I went up and tried the door anyway. It was unlocked." Her face grew serious, and she added, "But don't worry. I won't tell a soul about what I've seen. I don't want anybody beating you to the punch, either. I swear by all the gods--may I burn for eternity if I lie! But I trust that, you, then, are Mr. Gabbiani?"
"Your servant, madam. How may I be of service?" Setzer bellowed down the question politely.
His new arrival's cheeks colored a little; her grin grew abashedly crooked, but showed no signs of nervousness.
"Aah--hmm. Let me be blunt. I'm looking for work, and I hear that you need engineers. And I just happen to be an engineer, so here I am." She licked her lips, frowning in concentration. "I was wondering, Mr. Gabbiani...would it be too much to ask if I could be interviewed sometime today?"
Normally Setzer told applicants of her kind (of course, they normally didn't court jail by trespassing) to come up with a resume and schedule a proper hearing before politely but firmly sending them off, but he decided to make an exception. He never knew why. Perhaps the novelty of having a woman, and such a strangely-dressed one, simply barging into his restricted workshop and asking for a job threw him off guard. Perhaps his fondness for the gentle sex weakened his resolve. Or perhaps his Gabbiani intuition told him that here stood a capable, honest addition to the workforce, and that she may have loved the airship as much as he did. In any case, his answer was a foregone conclusion.
"All right, I'll be down . Just wait a few seconds," he called over his shoulder as he turned to lower his platform. He started--there was only an empty spot where the woman had one moment before stood.
The scaffolding began to vibrate, shaking him. Setzer grabbed one of the rails and stared over the edge.
Climbing up the scaffolding, effortlessly scrambling from one level to the next, was his visitor, whom the young man believed to be out of her gourd. She scaled the height in less than two minutes and ended up next to him.
"Good gods! Are you crazy, woman? You could have killed us both! You trespass and attempt murder in the first twenty minutes I've seen you!" Setzer choked.
"Please. There wasn't a bit of danger," the lady scoffed. "I've been climbing up trees ever since I was four. Besides, it was quicker this way, wasn't it?"
Setzer wiped a hand across his face, which grew calm and more pleasant. "I suppose it was. Shall we get on with the interview? I don't see why we should delay it because you tried to off me. What's your name?"
"Daryl, sir. Daryl Spielen."
"What's your work experience?"
"I have loved to tinker with machines ever since I can remember, sir. When I was fourteen, I started taking jobs, working on all sorts of things in so many factories that I can't remember them all." She counted on her fingers. "I've worked on trains, on milling machines, threshers, combines, and, well, I can't think of the rest. But I've had many years of experience."
"So have all of my other engineers."
"Ah, but how long have they actually worked?" Daryl challenged. "They've spent half their careers studying in institutes. I've studied, too, but I've been in the actual business much longer than most of them, I warrant."
It was simply incredible. A businessman like himself, and he found himself believing every word this madwoman said. Her shining eyes and broad smile and callused, strong hands, just seemed so sincere to him. He asked her a few more questions, and they finished in record time. It was the strangest job interview.
"All right. I think I could take you," Setzer said. "But I want to know one thing: Why did you risk being hauled to court with trespassing and espionage charges just to apply for a job? The proper way would have been much more agreeable, not to mention legal."
"It's because, sir--" Daryl cast down her eyes, looking over the deck with its glowing, silky smooth planks, "I want to fly. I don't doubt you know that there's been some talk about this machine. When I heard about it, I knew that I wanted to come here. I had to see if for myself. And now that I have--I've fallen in love with it, sir. It's my only chance. You know that the IAF won't take women. Besides, I like this ship more than those stupid little planes."
"A woman after my own heart," Setzer smiled widely. He couldn't help but find her lack of business tact and her passion endearing. Moreover, he knew she had him trapped; it would not do to let someone who had seen as much as she did to go without ensuring her dedication to his business.
But he decided to give her a little bit of trial time with the normal workers, just to further verify her claims, to allow her to get a feel of the place, and to show the men that he did not play favorites.
The men! The thought was very nasty. Setzer did now know how well the workers would respond to having a woman in their midst. In spite of all his advertising, not one woman engineer (the other positions were quite out of the question) had applied for a job.
Yet he had practically given Daryl his word that she would be hired; his genteel instincts did not tolerate ruining a lady's dreams. And perhaps her sex would not be much of an issue after all.
"Okay, you're in. I'll give out the orders to add you to the payroll today. However, there will be some forms for you to fill out. Would you mind staying after work? It's almost starting time, and I'd like you not to be late the first day."
"Not at all." Daryl said. She bowed her head to him. "Thank you so much."
"Well, I couldn't very well have you gallivanting out there without a job. We need all the help we can get. However, for about a month I'm going to put you in with the normal engineers in the machinery department. You'll need a little experience with this place before I can put you on this team. Besides, it wouldn't be fair for me just to put you on the special track just like that."
Daryl's face fell a little, and her eyes looked painfully disappointed. But she shrugged and forced a little smile. "I understand."
"Let's get you started, then. Don't look so sad--you'll be working here before you know it," Setzer put an arm around her shoulders and shook her encouragingly. "Remember: never tell anyone what you saw."
"You know I wouldn't."
Setzer nodded his approval and lowered the platform. He unlocked the doors and guided her to the machinery department, which was bustling with men fraternizing before the first bell.
"Listen up, everyone!" Setzer called. All talk ceased, and the workers looked at their boss and the woman who accompanied him.
"This," he continued, clapping Daryl on the shoulder, "is your new co-worker, Ms. Daryl Spielen. She's the newest addition to the engineering team."
Daryl lifted her chin and met the silent stares with a level gaze and a friendly smile; she lifted her hand a gave an awkward little wave. Setzer did not know what to make of it, he prayed that Daryl would be let alone.
"Go ahead to that station over there," he whispered in her ear, "and those men will fill you in on what they're working on. If there's trouble, ask for me, Mr. Mulciber, or Ratchet. And see that ugly black-bearded fellow? His name's Coroban--avoid him. Good luck."
She winked reassuringly at him and joined up with the group of engineers he had indicated. The bell rang, and the men slowly went about their business. Setzer felt anxious about leaving her, but nobody seemed ready to assault her. He hated to do it, but he had other matters to attend to.
Setzer found it extremely difficult to focus his mind on his work. He was always tense, fearing that any moment he'd hear a scream and the sounds of a riot, but his fears never came true. He peered out into the machinery factory every ten minutes it seemed, but nothing happened except the usual work. The men were unsettlingly quiet, however; they usually talked and sang at their labors, but now they were dead silent.
At lunchtime, Mulciber, Livius, Coroban, Ratchet, and some other workers appeared in Setzer's office. Mulciber spoke first.
"You sold my business to the government," the dwarf said heavily, "you took away the grit and sweat that made my men make beautiful things, and you got rid of all my old rules. I never said a word, 'cause I knew that I'd given up my place, and you could do as you damn well pleased. But this is the straw that breaks my back, Gabbiani! Letting a woman in! Who in the hell do you think you are?"
The men shouted their support, and they all began talking at once.
"Ain't no place for a man to make himself honest work anymore!"
"We won't be able to feed our families!"
"This is men's work!"
Setzer raised his hands and shouted them down: "Hold it, hold it, HOLD IT! What are you so worried about? Do you think that just because one woman comes in that they'll swarm upon this business and take all of your jobs? Honestly? Stop yelling like maniacs and think. Why should you be afraid of one woman?"
"We ain't afraid!"
"Then why are you making such a big deal out of it?!" Setzer demanded, rubbing his forehead. He looked at Livius. "Come on, Livius. Do you honestly object to her being here?"
"Actually, sir, I do," the engineer said flatly; Setzer had never seen the man looking so nervous and disgruntled. "I don't think that our jobs are in danger, but it's just not...right to me. This is no kind of life for a woman."
"I see. I guess it was too much to ask. And you, Ratchet?"
"It makes no difference to me," Ratchet said coldly. He rolled a cigarette and turned his back. Setzer scowled--gods, the man could be so annoying!
"We'll strike if she keeps on," Coroban growled.
"All of this over one woman?"
None of them answered, but everyone except Ratchet returned the cold glare Setzer gave.
Over in the corner, the poodle Penelope unexpectedly rose from her bed-pillow and leaped into Setzer's lap, yipping at him happily and licking his face. The dog had become a celebrity of sorts in the factory and was still the unofficial mascot. The men loved her. She had taken up permanent residency in the original factory and Setzer saw to it that she lived like a queen, up until the day she succumbed to luxury, fat and happy, only a few months later. But now she nuzzled the young man lovingly and growled at the workers.
Rough men of the forge are a strange breed: hard as iron, mean as hell, yet as superstitious as old Gypsy ladies. When Mulciber saw Penelope's actions, he took it as a sign that she approved of Setzer's crazy act. His ugly face twisted.
"Godsdammit," he swore, going over and taking up the poodle in the crook of his arm, "it's against everythin' we hold dear. But if Penelope says it's all right, then I suppose it won't harm none."
"You're stupid and crazy," Coroban spat. "What makes you think that a mangy cur like that knows what's good for our jobs and what ain't?"
"Shut up," Mulciber snarled. He backhanded his nephew viciously and glared, his bloody eye pulsing. "Dogs ain't like humans. There ain't no guile in 'em; they're honest, trusty beasts, and Penelope's special. Wouldn't have been our mascot if she wasn't. She's our luck. But we won't be lucky no more if we don't go with her advice. I ain't gainsayin' her."
"Whatever happens," one of the men said, "I won't betray Penelope."
The others voiced their loyalty and heaped abuse on Coroban, calling him some of the nastiest names that they could think of. Setzer vowed to himself that Penelope would be getting a piece of filet mignon for her supper that night.
"Listen," Setzer said, covering up his glee, "I know that you'll do it, even though you don't like it. But how about we compromise? If you let Daryl be, I promise to hire no more women. Also, I will give every man in this factory a bonus of fifty GP each. Is that satisfactory?"
The men said that it was very satisfactory. Setzer ushered the crowd out of his office, saying, "Fine, then. It's settled. Now stop whining and leave me alone! Any more complaints can be directed to my middle finger."
He slammed the door. The men needed to know that he was dead set in his decision, and the only way to do that was to be rude to them.
The men (except for Coroban and Ratchet) stared at the door in utter stupefaction.
"Shi-i-it," one of the men said finally. "He's got us beat." A knowing look came into his eyes, and he grumbled, "Bet she's slept with him."
Everyone else nodded. What a rake their boss was!
*************
Setzer had worried that Daryl would turn out to be one of those humorless militant-feminist types( a craze that had caught on in some parts of Vector due to the emergence of a girl trained as a great MagiTek Knight into the Imperial court) and start proselytizing about gender equality and the godsawful truth that all men were chauvinist scum, and that she if she heard one wolf-whistle, she'd litigate the man's ass so hard he'd look like a hunchback.
Luckily, Daryl drew very little attention to herself. She never frowned when her co-workers gossiped and hooted about the women they knew, was usually cheerful and never balked when given difficult, physically taxing assignments. Daryl could also, from what Setzer heard, be as coarse-tongued as the best of them. The men had not been thrilled to have a woman on board, but Setzer knew they were trying their best not to hassle her.
Daryl was not vocal about the gods-given rights of all women, but where her own individual freedom was concerned, she was much more blunt--Setzer and all of the other men learned that soon enough. For one day, as he worked on his airship, Setzer heard yells and the great clatter of tools being dropped all at the same time coming from the machine department. He ran out to see what caused the trouble; Livius and Ratchet followed.
The workers had formed a ring around one of the work-stations, and Setzer saw Daryl and Coroban were the main attractions. Daryl was screaming at Coroban, waving a wrench in his face.
"You son of a bitch!" she yelled. "Don't you tell me what I can and can't do!"
"Listen, lady--" Coroban raised his hands.
"Don't you speak to me like that!" she squawked.
"All right!" Setzer strode through the ring, leaving Livius and Ratchet to calm down the spectators. "What is going on here?"
"This fellow, here, sir," Daryl answered, indicating Coroban with the wrench, "won't mind his own business. I was working on one of the machines, and I had to hoist an engine up a few feet and lower it into the right place. Well, he came over to me and said, 'You'd better get someone else to do it--you ain't strong enough.'"
"Well, she ain't," Coroban said. "Do you really think that she could lift a fifty-pound engine? I was just pointin' it out, and then she gets all catty on me."
" You miserable--! How do you know?!" Daryl shouted. "I'm usually a peaceable, agreeable girl, sir," Daryl said to Setzer; she cocked her head sweetly and smiled. "I really hate making a fuss--" She suddenly whipped around, teeth bared and eyes flashing. "--unless some no-good-for-nothing, flatulent, snaggle-mouthed yahoo with no balls at all gets my dander up!"
Daryl struck out with the wrench, aiming for his face but in her excitement missing the mark, glancing a blow off his collarbone instead. Coroban bellowed and struck her back; his fist cracked against her nose, snapping her head back and tumbling her down. Blood spurted and spattered the floor.
"That is enough!" Setzer shouted. "Get back to work, all of you! Except you, Ratchet." He nodded to Mulciber, who had come running the second he heard his nephew had started yet another fight. The dwarf repeated the order, and herded everyone to their stations, knocking a few unlucky fellows on their heads in the process.
Setzer went over to Daryl, who had pulled herself up into a sitting position, and he said, "Ratchet will stop the bleeding. But I suggest that you take the rest of the day off, Daryl."
The young lady nodded, but she quite suddenly leaped up to her feet and bolted out the door before Ratchet touched her. Setzer felt very sorry for her; he would make time this evening to speak with her.
But he pushed the plan back for the time being, and he turned to Coroban.
"I won't fire you, Coroban," Setzer said sternly, "because Daryl's reaction was a bit uncalled for. But--"
"Hell it was! The woman's crazy. Get rid of her! I had a feeling she wouldn't pull her worth."
"I am not going to fire her either, so you'd better live with it. Get to work, for the gods' sake. But if you hurt any one of the workers here again, I promise that I'll have you carted off to prison, and I won't let you come back when you get out," Setzer spat. He felt angry and terrible. He didn't know if he could stand one more insult without hurting the man. Coroban saw the look in Setzer's eyes, scowled, and retreated.
Sighing, Setzer went back to the hangar, wishing that the men would just let some things be.
************
The final bell rang. Setzer customarily stayed about two hours after to finish his paperwork, but he felt strangely out of sorts and wanted to go home early.
There was a hill near his house that Setzer particularly liked; the hill was the tallest on all his land, and one side had such a steep inclination that it could almost have passed for a cliff. Setzer loved standing at the very edge of this hill; if the sky was blue and the wind just right, it almost felt like flying. It was a spot where he went when he was sad, worries, or just wanted to be alone.
He came to his hill, taking in the breeze and the softness of the grass; a sense of clarity and peace came over him. So relaxed was he, he wasn't particularly surprised to see what greeted him when he reached the top.
Sunk down in the grass, her eyes closed and her hair spreading all out, curling into the green dotted with tiny purple blossoms, lay Daryl, her face cleaned of the blood. She must have been dozing, but when Setzer came closer she stirred and sat upright.
"Hello," Setzer said. "This is a nice place, isn't it? One of the reasons why I bought this land was because of this spot right here."
Daryl jolted and put a hand to her chest. "You did that on purpose!"
"No, I didn't. But I wonder, how did you get here? I've got a fence all around the area."
"It's your land?"
"Yes. Come on, I'm not mad. Tell me how you got here," Setzer grinned.
"I just climbed over."
"It figures!" Setzer laughed. "But it does wonders, doesn't it? I don't blame you for coming here."
"It's lovely. You can see all around you from up here," Daryl murmured. She fell silent, and Setzer found that he couldn't think of anything to say to her. Daryl's feet began to fidget.
"Am I fired?" she asked. He started for a second, but he answered her calmly.
"Of course not. You've worked hard for me, and I won't sack you over a little spat like that."
Daryl's face remained turned to the ground; she spoke quietly: "Don't patronize me. I can't stand it."
"Madame, I intend nothing of the sort." Setzer frowned. "I am simply doing what I think is fair. Nobody's firing anybody, and I'm certainly doing you no special favor."
A small line creased the middle of her forehead, but Daryl said nothing. Her muscles were tensed, and she braced one of her legs against the ground.
"But," Setzer emended, "I must admit, I don't mind being generous. I consider you a friend, and friendship needs a little help now and then." He sat down beside her and reached out his hands. "Here, let me look at that."
He lifted her chin and examined her nose. It was swollen and crust lined her nostrils, but the angle and bridge seemed unharmed. Not very becoming, but to comment on that was not courteous nor wise.
"Nothing broken," he told her. "Does it hurt?"
"That's a stupid question," Daryl smiled back, her eyes shining with the old mirth. "It's like asking a one-armed lumberjack if he needs a hand."
"It's only decency," Setzer laughed, releasing her face; he looked obliquely at her. " But I know how it is. I nearly lost my nose once."
"You didn't," Daryl said.
"Yes, I did."
He told her the story of Ruadh, omitting some of the more gruesome and shady details, and she listened with wide eyes, both of them lying down in the grass side by side.
"Terrato bless me," Daryl said, "that's something. Where are those pals of yours? Where did this thing happen?"
"In Jidoor. That's where I'm originally from. My friends--I haven't heard from them."
"Jidoor! Is it as grand as they say it is?" Daryl peered down at him, leaning up on her elbows.
"Yes, it is." Setzer smiled, closing his eyes.
"I always wanted to go there when I was a kid."
"Not dressed like that," he said, "You'd be exiled on the spot."
"Ah, a city of ninnies!" Daryl nodded her head firmly. "Forget it."
"What about you?" Setzer drawled, plucking one of the purple blossoms and sniffing it, only to find it had no perfume. He plucked off the petals and sprinkled them in her hair. "Is Vector your hometown?"
"Born and bred here. I've never been further than Albrook."
She had a mother who still lived in the city, Daryl told him, though they lived apart after she had completed her engineering classes. She used to have an older brother who worked for the IAF, but years ago a jagged piece of metal had fallen off the decrepit remains of a disused plane and struck him on the head as he passed underneath.
"He used to let me visit him in the hangar when he wasn't on duty," Daryl said, "and he always said that he'd take me up in one of the two-passenger models. Never happened, though. Now that I think about it--I think--I think that I was more sad because I'd never get up there than because he was dead. I feel awful about it. But..." she inhaled deeply and stood up, walking over to the hill's edge. She stretched out her arms, and the wind billowed her hair and coat.
"But when I find places like this, then nothing matters. The sky seems so big, bigger than the gods--"
"And you just go up and up," Setzer said, he clenched his fists to slow down the tingling in his hands and temples. He got up and joined her. "You know, I do believe that you have proved yourself worthy of a promotion. Tomorrow, you will report to the hangar."
"I'd love that." She hesitated. "But...I don't think I should. I'm in it bad enough with the men already. Oh, they don't bother me, but--"
"Daryl, I wonder how many opportunities you've let slip through your fingers. You finally are offered the place you came here for, and yet you drop the ball. You've worked hard for me, and I say you're entitled to something. I know you want it."
The brown eyes twinkled, and she bent back her neck, looking up at him. " I trust that you'll remember I had nothing to do with it."
"Of course you didn't. I'll make you another deal. This hill, here, you like it, don't you?"
"I love it."
"Well, how about we share it in joint custody? It's yours as much as mine now. Come any time you like."
"Why do you insist on being so nice to me?" Daryl demanded. She put her hands on her hips and cocked her head, something she always did when she was baffled. "What are you on, and what do you want from me?"
"I'm always this nice. I can't help it if I'm the product of good breeding. It's a curse, I know, but I am what I am."
"Gee, you're such a prince." Daryl took his hand in both of hers and squeezed it; her callused fingers felt surprisingly soft.
"Does that mean you accept?"
"Yeah, because you'd bug me to death until I agreed just to shut you up." She turned around and jogged down the slope, pulling him behind her. "Let's go into the city," she told him, craning her neck to look back, "and get something to eat. I'm starving."
*************
They came to a little bakery in the small back-allies. They each bought a slice of honey-cake and ate out in the shop's front portico. Daryl found a huge almond in her cake, and she never looked so proud.
"Sometimes the baker puts a handful of almonds into the batter," she said as she held up the nut for him to see, "and he never tells you." Frankly, Setzer did not understand all the fuss, but it was good to see her in lively spirits again.
"I had better be going home soon," Setzer said, both of them having eaten, and he stretched. "My manservant has conniption fits if I stay out too long. He treats me like a kid sometimes."
"I think it's cute," Daryl grinned. "Hell, you know so many interesting people, my life seems so dull. I wish I could meet them all."
"Who knows? You just might. Here." Setzer helped her out of her chair and gave her his arm with a bow. "If it please you, Madame, I'd like to escort you home."
"No one's ever done that for me before," Daryl remarked in a neutral voice.
"It's because you've never met a true gentleman before," he responded grandly. She tentatively slipped her hand onto his forearm.
Giving him directions along the way, Daryl walked along with her escort through winding rabbit's warren of streets. A line of apartments came into view, and she told him to walk slower.
"This is it." She clutched his arm tighter and gave him a sly wink. "Look, I want to freak out my neighbors. I want them to see you go up with me to the door. What good is it to have a rich guy like you with me if nobody sees us? It'll give somebody a heart attack for sure."
"I'm all for that notion," Setzer consented. The old feeling of mischief crept up his spine, and for a moment he thought he was back in Jidoor.
"Look, look, it's my landlady," Daryl whispered. She tugged on his coat sleeve and pointed towards an opening door, out of which stepped a stout lady wearing a babushka. "This'll be great. All right, let's go. And make it classy."
"From the looks of it, I say that she deserves the full treatment."
She pointed out her door and he led her up onto the rotting porch with long, elegant strides. They stopped at the door and he caught up her hands.
"Thank you, good sir," Daryl said, looking up into his eyes and gazing as if she adored him.
"Make no mention of it. Good night, fair lady. Shall we meet again tomorrow? At the Palace, as usual? " he murmured, drawing her close.
"And tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow."
Setzer raised her hands up to his lips and kissed them twice, once for each; he bowed to her and walked backwards off the steps, never turning face away from her. They blew each other kisses before Daryl unlocked the door and disappeared.
As he walked past, he saw the landlady still looking out from her front porch. He smiled blithely and saluted her, but she couldn't even nod back.
*************
Some of the men looked disappointed the next day when Daryl reported back to work; Setzer strongly suspected that they had thought she would never come back. Livius and the airship crew took the unannounced transfer into their department in stride, thankfully, and made no complaints. Daryl's joviality and eagerness for work warmed her to them, and they liked her, even without taking into account the fact that she was not adverse to bashing their heads in with a tire iron if they harassed her.
She worked well in her new atmosphere. Often Daryl could be found in or around the slowly but surely growing airship, cheerily laboring in the midst of the countless gears, cogs, and engine parts, or else running at breakneck speed across the scaffolding, her rich laughter and jokes attending wherever she went; Setzer sometimes never saw her at all when she worked, save for a fleeting glint of her ruddy-gold hair, the turn of her strong, tanned neck, or a wide smile.
As much as the other men liked her, Daryl did not spend much of her leisure time with them. Ratchet and Livius, with their quiet ways, preferred to stay to themselves, and the rest usually went into the main workroom to socialize; Daryl did not like going there. She started to while away her breaks with Setzer, which suited them both very well. They talked about the airship, about the workers, Vector, and about the world. He taught her to play cards and cheat without getting caught; she tried to show him how to take an engine apart and assemble it again, but to no avail. They fought over wines and fashion: he preferred the finest quality, whereas she liked the most exotic and least-used. Neither convinced each other, but it was all in good fun, and Setzer loved it.
Daryl was good company. Her laughter, sheer vivaciousness, and boundless energy enthralled him; he never knew what to expect from her. One moment she was doing this, the next doing that, and it was a challenge to keep up with her. But keep up he did. He found himself asking permission to see her home every day after the last bell. He learned that her favorite dessert was fruitcake, because nobody else liked it, and that she preferred daises because nobody liked those, either. Once a week they had dinner together (Daryl demanded they split the check); sometimes they went out on chocobo rides, which almost always turned into races--Daryl loved turning anything into a competition, and constantly sought to one-up him.
"Bah!" he said to her finally, "Try and top this, you deranged woman: Have you ever been to a party? Not one of those drunken orgies you find in bars, mind you, but a real one?"
"No, I haven't," Daryl managed. Her lower jaw started to protrude in that adorably contentious expression of hers. "But what's it matter? Parties are for dandyprats and tights-wearing hedonists. Rich people's parties aren't any different from other folks', except they don't get quite as drunk and they wear poofy clothes. I spend my time on better things, thank you."
"That's my Daryl--all love and sarcasm." Setzer winked at her and chucked her chin; he patted her strong hand. "You've been woefully deprived. Would you like to come with me to one? This weekend there's going to be a grand outing at Aledard Gokun's house. Is there any way I could persuade you to come along and see what you've been missing?"
"I refuse to be caught in the association of anyone named Aledard, thank you. It sounds like a drink. 'Come for happy hour and get aledards for one half price!'"
"Your reservations about the name notwithstanding, he has great taste and never disappoints," Setzer pressed. "Come on, Daryl."
"There's a first time for everything, I suppose. When I'm old and my grandkids are gathered 'round the fire and they ask me whether I've been to a fancy party or not, I won't have to say, 'Well-- the best I did was go to bars and throw up all over myself.' I'll go to your wretched party."
*************
The weekend came, and Setzer had the privilege of leading in a pretty, round-faced lady wearing her best cream-colored slacks and a long, bright red shirt cinched tightly, giving the illusion of a skirt. It had been a trial to convince her to even go that far; Daryl thought dresses and makeup as supremely evil things that needed to be destroyed. Her hair was done up in a soft, sweeping coiffure, tightly curled ringlets spilling over her nearly bare, freckled shoulders.
Women crowded around from all sides, greeting Setzer and appraising the new arrival; Daryl smiled quite demurely and curtsied. Females can be the most hateful shrews ever to walk the earth when they sense a rival, but Daryl kept her profile low and genial, and she was readily accepted. She was drawn away from Setzer's arm over into a small group of the silk and satin clad ladies.
"Hey, Gabbiani, where did you meet that little lady?" a man asked Setzer. The young man shrugged his shoulders and swept up a crystal martini-glass, rotating the delicate stem between his fingers. "Her name's Daryl. She's a good friend of mine."
"You seem to have lots of those lately, Mr. Gabbiani. Pray tell, where did you make her acquaintance?"
"She works in my factory."
"Gods, man, you brought one of your own workers? Have things gotten so desperate for you?"
Setzer glanced over his shoulder at Daryl's group. She was in the middle of an anecdote, the other women ringed around her, their faces shining and gay. Their chittering laughter tinkled over the crowds. Daryl herself shimmered with her joy of life; her face was gleaming and rosy, the dimples her cheeks deep and wide, and her eyes danced with mirth.
"Once," he faintly heard her saying, "when my brother and I were in school, we were attending English class, and our teacher, a guy roughly six and a half feet tall and four hundred pounds--widest man I ever saw--was lecturing on a story. He was trying to drive home a point about how much the ladies in the book loved this one character. He said, 'Now, girls, I want you all to think about how sad you'd all be if the members of your favorite musical troupe were all married--" and my brother just blurts out of the blue, 'To each other!!'"
Everybody in the ring laughed, and Setzer felt a surge of pride well up in him. Daryl was a marvelous storyteller. Her face exuded richness and emotion, she did wonderful voices, and her gestures flowed naturally and with passion. She would have been a great actress, if only she was thinner.
Setzer watched her all throughout the evening, watched her laugh and sparkle. In the heat and light of the chandeliers and lamps, he felt a twist in stomach growing by the minute, and the blood in his veins began to tremble and thrum. Of all the women he had known, none had ever made him feel so. He had always felt great affection towards Daryl, and much of the strange euphoria he was experiencing stemmed from the old amiable love, but there was a new, biting edge. He decided that he must have this one, this pretty, shimmering gem of a girl who was full of stories, whims, and who wheeled and sang with life to its very top. She made him happy.
The party went along at its pace; Setzer whiled away the time with talk and wine, and he constantly looked up at the mantle clock. He'd never been eager to leave one of these gatherings before.
At twelve o' clock, the party proper came to its end. Many people lingered for about another hour at the parties, but Setzer did not wish to this time. He nodded to Daryl, who excused herself and bade her audience good-night. He helped her with her coat, and they stepped out into the night air.
"Whew!" Daryl sighed, "Thanks for getting me out. I was getting tired."
"Did you have a good time?"
"Perhaps. It wasn't as bad as I thought it'd be."
"See? What'd I tell you? Now aren't you glad I dragged you along?"
"You people sure know how to have a good time, that's for sure," Daryl said, a yawn making her voice go down several notches. "It was fun, I guess. I liked talking to the ladies, though they seemed a bit unimaginative for my tastes. I'm glad it's over, though."
"Do you think," Setzer ventured, feeling a bit shy, "that you'd be up to another party anytime in the near future?"
"Mmmaybe...but only if you're with me. 'Cause next time, I won't make so much of myself. I liked the attention, but I've had enough to last me a lifetime. However, I would like it if you'd be there."
"Daryl."
"That's my name. What is it, dear sir?"
Setzer put his hands behind his back and looked down at his toes like a schoolboy reciting before the class. "I was wondering, Daryl, if you would do something for me."
"Go on..."
"Would you like to live with me?"
She suddenly seemed quite abashed; he couldn't read her eyes. "You mean move in with you."
"Yes."
"Well, first of all: Why? I'm certainly not the prettiest girl you've met, I'm sure, and I've got nothing except my apartment. What would you get out of it?"
"Your exquisite and glorious presence. It's all I want. I'm getting tired of living with just Benedick and the servants to keep me company."
"Setzer, I am very fond of you--heck, I'll go out and say it. I love you very much, and I think you're quite attractive. But I wouldn't feel right living off your good graces. I don't think you're playing me for a sap, but a girl needs to stand up for herself. I've known many friend who lived with rich boyfriends, and they were thrown out when the man had gotten through with them. No self-respecting lady does that to herself."
"Do you know me so little? First of all, I would never treat a woman so callously as that. Second, I have no intention of casting you off, ever. You're too good to pass up. Out of everyone in this wretched city, I love you the best." He leaned in very close to her.
"People will talk," she whispered.
"When did that ever bother you? Let them talk."
She folded her arms and puffed out her breath. "You're really serious about this, aren't you?"
"Oh, yes."
"Then by all means, let's not waste another minute." Daryl reached up, threw her arms around his neck, and kissed him quickly, leaving a very pleasant warmth on his lips. She disengaged and looped his arm through hers, towing him away. "If we're going to live in sin," she said, "might as well do it as quickly as possible and make the most of it. Let's go back to my apartment and get my things. It'll only take a few minutes."
Setzer whistled up the carriage and ordered the drive to wait while Daryl gathered her belongings, which only took her roughly ten minutes. She emerged with a tool box, a small trunk of clothing, and a few little knick-knacks of personal significance.
"Just a sec. I've got to inform of my departure," she said to Setzer. He nodded and watched her swagger up to the landlady's front door and rap her knuckles on the wood. The lady poked her curler-bedecked head out and frowned. Daryl took a sheet of paper from her coat, slammed it down at the landlady's feet and gave the one-finger salute. She then ran over to the carriage and leaped in next to Setzer, pressing close; he could feel the wriggling of her body. He rested his chin upon the crown of her head and closed his eyes.
This, he thought to himself, this is what it means to be alive.
*************
The carriage dropped Setzer and Daryl off at the threshold of his house. They carried in her articles and set them down in the entry hall. Setzer drew her close and wrapped his arms around her back.
"Home sweet home! It's half yours now, so you can go wherever you want. Just as long as you don't burn it down."
"Darn. My plot to seduce you and infiltrate your home so I can burn it down has been foiled!"
In response, Setzer sighed and pinched her cheek. A little floating flame approached them from behind; Benedick entered slowly in slippers and a floppy nightcap, holding a candle.
"The gods as my life, wastrel, now ye choose to rouse the house--"
Benedick regarded Daryl with surprise; his mustache twitched, and his cordy throat worked up and down.
"Daryl, this is Bruce Benedick, my manservant who I have talked to you about. Benedick, meet Daryl."
"Hail to thee, Ladybird," the old man greeted and bowed stiffly. Daryl gave a sort of cooing sound, looked very pleased, and rushed up to pump Benedick's arm almost off his shoulder.
" 'Ladybird?' Nobody's ever given me a nickname before. I like that," she laughed. "It's a pleasure to meet you. Setzer's told me a bit about you, but it's an honor to see you in person."
The word Ladybird, though often used as an expression of affection (it's the name of a small and very cute red and black bug), also has less flattering connotations: in the proper context, the word can be understood to mean 'a prostitute.' Daryl, since obscure words weren't her forte, obviously thought that the word referred to some kind of robin or cardinal.
"Daryl," Setzer said, "would you like to pick out your room and settle in? You can choose whatever one you want." It was a quandary. If they were going to be living together, it would only make sense that they'd sleep in the same bed; yet he was determined not to force himself upon her. He wished he had thought about that.
"Good night," she said slowly, stooping to hoist her trunk; after she had gone, Setzer jerked Benedick by the pajama collar and shoved the Doman into a corner.
"Look here, old man, don't you ever call her that again. Gods, not five minutes here, and you insult her. I won't have it!"
"I call her after her deserts, good Master," Benedick responded, "and, believe you me, there are many other appellations to choose from. 'Tis shameful, Master. Long have I endured the never-ceasing list of ladies ye have brought to this house. In the morn and liquid dew of youth, 'tis understandable and forgivable. But to bring a lady into the house to live with ye! I cannot well think of anything more shameful. For a woman to give up her honor all for a few days of honeying and making love--"
"You don't even know the woman. And it's not for just a few days, Benedick, I promise you that. Gods, stop being such a snob," Setzer hissed.
Benedick looked quite taken aback, and he looked as if he had been beaten. "Master, such a condition is sinful in the eyes of--"
"If you say one word about the gods and how they hate fornicators, I'm going to scream. You listen, old man. Daryl is the most wonderful person I know. If she tells you to do something, you do it. You're to obey her in every respect, even if she tells you to jump out of a window." He removed his hands and waved them in front of Benedick's face. "I hate to tell you this, my dear man, but...." he began hopping around from one foot to another, "you live in a happy magical land of make-believe with elves and bunnies that sing to the stars in their little feetie pajamas, and all decent people live in holy wedlock just because some old priest told them they could."
"No more of this, Master; such antics make ye look the fool," Benedick said. His mustache was bristling like a hedgehog.
"Happy to amuse you. Go to bed, Benedick. Don't sulk."
Setzer groped his way up the dark staircase--he should have taken Benedick's candle and taught the old prude a lesson--and entered his room. He turned on the gas lamps and sat down in a chair.
His thoughts turned to Daryl. He hoped that she had found the house to her liking and was getting well-situated. Gods, she was a splendid woman! He was deliriously happy that she had agreed to be with him, the dear. If only--
The door quietly opened and closed from behind, and Daryl slipped in, looking rather shy and demure.
"Hello," she greeted. "You look a bit out of sorts. What's wrong?"
"I'm fine. I was just thinking."
"Yes, thinking is a painful, lonely business," Daryl sighed. She circled around behind him and gently stroked her fingers through his hair; it was a very gentle and relaxing sensation tugging at his scalp. He loved it.
"You know, I've been thinking as well," Daryl continued in that exquisite smoky contralto, "and I've realized something. This state of different bedrooms just won't cut it for me."
"I didn't want to put any pressure on you. But this is a very nice change, if I may say so."
"Pressure! Bah!" She bent down and rubbed her cheek against his; her skin felt warm and pliant. "But I appreciate it. You know why I think all my friends who lived with their men got screwed?"
"Why?"
"Because there're so many floozies like me, and so few gentlemen."
Setzer turned his neck and kissed her long and hard; one hand slipped up and ran through her hair. Every different woman had her own special way of kissing, and Daryl's thrilled him with its sheer energy. Libertine as he was, he couldn't help but be impressed.
They broke apart to catch their breaths; Setzer reached over, caught her in a tight bear-hug, and flopped onto the bed. For a long while they lay there, curled up against one another, talking and joking.
"So," he asked her after a little while, "how do you like the house?"
"Oh, I think I'll like it here." Daryl giggled. "I just love that manservant of yours. Ladybird--he likes me! He's such a dear."
He wondered whether to tell her the other meaning of her new nickname, but he did not have the heart. Benedick continued to call Daryl 'Ladybird' long afterwards, but it soon changed from a jeer to a true pet name given out of affection. But at that moment in time, he decided to let the matter slide.
Setzer then began to take off his boots, but Daryl detained him with a shake of her head. She rose and beckoned for him to sit up; he did so, and she pulled off the boots, setting them gently down beside the bed. That done, Daryl quite suddenly undid his belt buckle and removed his pants in one deft motion. Laughing, she ran over to the window and opened it.
"Bye-bye, pants! Fly, fly!" she sang, hurling the clothing out into the branches of a nearby tree. Setzer felt hideously violated, but could not help laughing.
"Of all the audacity," he huffed, inhaling deeply. "How am I going to explain that to my fundamentalist gardener in the morning?"
"Tell him that the gods put them there as a joke."
The young man rose from the bed. "You sweet mad-woman, one good turn deserves another."
"You'll have to catch me first, buster!"
With a shout, Setzer sprang after her, pursuing her around his coffee table, over chairs, and across the bed. He finally managed to catch her from behind and encircle her waist with both arms. Daryl giggled as he shucked off her shoes while she unbuttoned his shirt.
They quickly slipped underneath the bedcovers, as standing around au naturale made them chilly. He entangled his legs with hers, each one snuggling against the other for warmth, sharing quick hot little kisses. Setzer then rolled over, holding her head against his chest as she lay on top of him, warm and plump.
"You know, when I was a little girl, I used to daydream that I'd meet a prince or duke or something like that," she said softly, "but now--I like this much better."
Setzer glowed; he ran his hands down her back and over her hips, murmuring: "Let's make a bargain. If you stay with me and promise never to leave, I'll pay to help you build your own airship after the first one's done. And then, dearest, we'll rule the skies, you and I, and no-one else. Deal?"
"Gods," she whispered; her face filled with joyful radiance. "Gods, you are the sweetest man in the world."
Daryl bent down her head and kissed each of his scars; Setzer suddenly felt like crying, and he didn't know why.