Chapter 3 -- Into the Ether

The rock face tapered off, angled itself downward, and resentfully slipped beneath the waves. The crags and water pools below breathed in the sea water exhaling foam before catching it back in the tide, giving it another try a moment later. Angular rocks jutted out from within walking distance of the thin beach and multiplied: a solemn reminder that this was no ship's friend. This was a minor excerpt of the Barrens, a soured stretch of skeletal hills and primeval quarries that brushed up against the seaboard before rolling west to the Finath. Rotting plants and weak topsoil made the site unsettling, and even the few monsters were skin and bones; needless to say, the lack of agriculture only provided an easy excuse for townspeople to stay away. This was also an invitation for other characters to move in. Antirine, tucked away in his dark metal shell, propped himself up against a vertical splinter of granite, his hand dragging a tobacco cigarette in the dusty breeze.

Out and below, three flat-topped barges floated in tandem, slowly trawling through the midday shadow cast by the barrens above. A few of the castle's soldiers sat lazily around the rims of the boats, talking amongst each other. One strapping man even noticed his commander on the skyline and waved; Antirine threw up a hand to show that he was also being attentive. The men laughed and turned back to guarding the freight. Each oar-stroke lapped at the unusually calm surface, propelling the wooden behemoths to the miniscule bay where the docking and unloading would begin.

"You're a regular ship's mate today," Tartar mocked as he approached from behind the dark knight, having just made the climb up from the makeshift pier below. He was dressed in his usual white armor and had a lightweight duster on as well, fragranced with sea spray. "How are your men doing?" he queried, fishing out his cigarette from his pocket-sized case.

Antirine spit over the ledge. "Slow as hell, but that's how it's going to be. If any of those relics falls overboard, I'll have a falling out of my own, if you get my drift. Happen to remember the completion time offhand?"

Tartar peeked over the cliff, watching the first ship maneuver itself between the towering entrance. It brushed the cliffside but managed to pop out the otherside without damage. "Two weeks and some change, maybe...It depends on the weather and the waves."

"Saw the last of the assembly compartments being made awhile ago...gouged right out of that bedrock. Tomorrow the woodwork'll be set up, doors and the like. We just need to get the haul down there and seal the place off as quick as possible."

"Precisely," said Tartar, shooting gray wisps outward. "If we get thunder showers and gales, the crafts may sink. Those bits and pieces of that airship floating around down there...it's making me nervous already, if you can believe it. Who knows if any of those components can be replaced? Our professor's got it under wraps -- and I do mean under wraps -- but things can still go awry as it stands."

The second ship had just turned to enter, and they both stopped talking a moment to watch it sail through. Judging by the bulging under the burlap tarps, they were pipes and machinery that could not be assembled. "The professor knows those bits and pieces. Did you see his inventory list?"

"I did. Enough paper to float these parts themselves."

Antirine let out his bark-laugh and the crew of the second ship picked up their pace, thinking they were the brunt of a funny joke. "Did you hear how he got the ships in the first place?"

Soren shook his head, but he had an idea. "Waving his diplomacy around, was it?"

"Nearly. Right after we found the ship, he takes a trip to Goug with only a few soldiers and a carriage...Delita's request. He gets down to the machine city, meets with the men in charge and asks for some barges. They ask why and he tells 'em that -- get this -- there was a plague up in Ordalia and that they were buring the dead at sea...a good will gesture by the new King. Do you remember the inauguration and some of the diplomats who came to congratulate Delita?"

Tartar scratched his chin. "Representives from Goug weren't there."

"Exactly. Had an explosion of sorts down in one of their metal refining factories and they wouldn't let anyone leave town...feared it was an inside job, to say the least. The higher-ups still feel guilty for not being able to go pay their respects to the new King and when Professor, in service of Delita, asks for some ships to ferry the dead, they give him four barges. I'm talking major cargo transport here, the type they use for their salvage operations in the Bugross. Chamberlain asks how much, they don't name a price -- it's a present to the new ruler. So, he effectively guilted them into giving him the ships. So, he rides up through Larner Channel with all of these ships in tow, and they go to the little pier east of the castle...I forget its name..."

"Land's End."

"That's the one. Now, awhile before, the carraige driver arrives back in Zeltennia after doing doubletime with his chobobos. He notifies Delita that the professor's coming back, the King goes down there. This is around the time they finally got that metal skeleton out of the field and brought it down to the castle."

"That all?"

"Can't say it is. Hollister pulls into Land's End with these giant floaters, standing at the foredeck like he's the figurehead. He lands and Delita asks him how he managed to procure them all. Get this: he says he used his bargaining tricks and acute sense of wit."

"Falsehood?"

"Of course! You've seen the guy in action. His pull only goes so far as attendants and engineers. I mean, not to speak badly of our upstanding Professor, but I think any of us could top his attempt. From what I've heard about that Survane kid, he probably could have gotten them to pay us for the trouble."

"Kleff's the diplomat of the group, so I wouldn't be surprised. Where is he, anyway? I haven't seen him around the grounds lately. And how did you know that Hollister was just puffing out his chest?"

Antirine chuckled again. "The soldiers work under me, so of course, they'll shoot the breeze during training. I was quite amused to find Hollister had taken advantage of the Gougians embarrassment, but what needs to be done needs to be done. I can't say I wouldn't have done the same thing, although..."

"...and about Survane?"

"Ahh. Yes, young Survane. Have you wondered why there aren't any boats out and about like usual?"

Tartar turned to face the sea and he finally noticed that it was just water and wind out there. Not a single vessel plunked around, aiming for their day's catch. "So, where are they?"

"Our fine young diplomat is keeping the fishermen at bay, down at the local saloon hangout. They all go there when they can't fish."

"But they can."

"Oh, but they can't. You see, he went down there on Delita's orders to keep them out of the way -- can't have them snooping around, stopping to say hello, loosening their tongues with gossip. One chilly morning, he arrives at the docks and tells them that the early frost has spooked the haddock to Romanda, where the current's warmer. Now, haddock make a bundle at the farmer's market in town, but cold-water fish don't. I don't know why, I'm not a fisherman. So, they all walk into town and he entertains them with stories of his alleged travels. He's got them wrapped around his finger, and they believe he's the greatest thing since fishing nets. I swear, I thought he had his work cut out for him, but he's doing just fine. Of course, the promises of government funds'll take the swagger out of any fisherman's step. Times have been tough in the past for these guys...they probably want to ride it out instead of wasting their time."

"Fine job, then. I was hoping he wouldn't amount to a firework-fetcher."

"I'm kind of surprised that you didn't know all of these stories."

"Yes, well...You seem to have gotten the upper hand on the news lately. Let me just say that for the last few days, my priorities have been redirected to something else of equal importance."

"If it's a new project, feel free to indulge me."

"In good time, in good time..." The third and last boat had just traveled into the bay and was already dropping anchor. The soldiers' whistles were all directed upwards at the two. Antirine shrugged and started walking back, tossing his long-dead cigarette over the side. It had burnt itself out while he was talking.

The ceramic clouds thinned to the horizon and back, the lofty sprawl baked orange in the post-midday. Wreathes of sunshine poked out above Zeltennia, but it was soon patched up in messy slurs by the wind. The last few days had been frigid and below-temperature at points, but the warm stillness made it seem like the winter winds were taking a break before they would cover the town in one fell swoop.

Kleff exited the saloon, listening to his former company's jubilant beer-cries ring out for a moment before the ironwork door slammed shut. The dirt streets were appropriately empty, as the husbands who had been at work were rubbing their hands together as they anticipated their supper. The young man set out, trudging past the wagons and haycarts that marked the end of town and the beginning of the road to the castle.

On the outskirts, a man in a heavy shawl and cloak caught up with Kleff, resting a hand on his shoulder as he caught his breath. "Sorry I missed your work..." The voice was unmistakable: Delita was out and about.

"Sire, you shouldn't be out so late! You'll catch cold!"

"I'll be fine, Kleff."

The two began walking side by side en route to the castle gates, which were still a good half mile away. Zeltennia Castle looked inviting as it rested fat on its haunches, some of the windows shining white-light reflections. "You know, sire," Kleff began, stuffing his hands into his overcoat's deep pockets, "things are going off without a hitch at the fisherman's club. They haven't exercised any protests since a few days ago."

"I'm glad to hear of success. Those seafaring types are stubborn -- you must really have been in top form to keep them from their livelihoods."

"I can't take all the credit, Your Majesty. It was your suggestion in the first place."

Delita chuckled close-mouthed, pulling his loose garb in a bit. "Well, the part I have is much different from the part you all have. Thinking and doing just aren't the same thing. I'd love to be out there and fraternize with everyone, but my role in this picture doesn't allow for it."

"Oh, don't say that, sire. Your involvement is as important as mine or anyone's. This is your brainchild, after all. You knew where to find an airship when no one else had an inkling. That alone is worth its weight in the matter."

"Perhaps you are right. I just have this notion where I'm not being worthwhile unless I'm at the forefront of the thing. Antirine and Tartar are out inspecting the transport, you've just gotten back from your day out on the town, Hollister is working for me in his laboratory...Just inventing ideas doesn't convince myself I'm part of the action."

"I understand," said Kleff, his eyes on the nearby gate. "...but don't be too discouraged. Your legacy's in the making, and it's sure to be a long one. There will be plenty of opportunities to take advantage of."

The two approached the gate, waiting for the gate guard to notice them on the bridgework above the large swing gate. Delita looked at his companion who said nothing while he waited, and dug in his coat pocket. "I'll meet up with you all later for a late dinner," said the King, grasping at the flowers in his hands. "I have some business to take care of elsewhere."

Kleff took his eyes off the gate to look at the flowers in the his liege's hand. "Little blue clusters...they're beautiful. How did you manage to get them this late into the cold season?"

"A vendor had some of them, don't ask me how."

"Where are you going, then, if I may ask?"

"There's a cemetary nearby. I need to pay my respects."

Kleff felt as if the subject was drawing to a steady close, so he didn't bother to ask if it was his family or friends. He just nodded and saw the King a ways down the path to the graveyard. The remants of a broken-down church, minus the steeple, were visible from the bend of the road. Before he could ponder the significance long, he heard a gruff voice reach out and grab him in the dull light.

"Hey, you!"

Survane whirled around to see the guard leaning on the railing, staring at him with dinner-plate eyes from under his open helm. "Kleff, you coming in or what? Who knows when a squidlarkin'll attack you!"

Kleff waved him off as he walks into the castle environs. Delita shouldn't be long.

The banquet table was piled high and long, with roast duck and pheasant as the night's main course. Since his four friends' arrival, Delita had requested that, rather than eating alone, he dine with the company of those who he surrounded himself with. This was opposed lightly, with tradition and security cited as the main reasons, but in the end Delita's wishes could not be refused.

"Very delectable," said the professor as he applied his handkerchief to his pudgy face. "My compliments to the chef...no, the entire staff! I haven't had fowl like this since I was in Lesalia!"

"Lesalia? You should drop down to Limberry sometime. Everyone seems to get spend their time feeding the birds down there. Bird feeders, handouts...After seeing the amount of corn and bread they toss away over there, you'd think the game was the reason they were hit so hard in that drought a few years back. Mighty tasty pheasant, though." Antirine shook a bit with glee as he cut himself another sizeable slab of wing off his plate.

Tartar sniffed his wine and took a sip, shaking his glass goblet as he felt the age. "Well, Limberry is an agricultural nation, and they often get surplus grain to store away. If you don't use it, it molds and rots. Can't say I'm surprised they feed their feathered friends as much as they do."

Antirine rested his elbow on the table, pointing his fork. "I have nothing against any of those folks fattening up their birds, but when you know the drought may be coming, a guy'll need all he can horde. It's one of those perennial things...they should know by now."

"So," said Kleff as he rolled a piece of meat in some gravy, "you're saying you don't care so long as they don't feed the birds in a drought year? Kind of odd,
if you ask me..."

Antirine gazed around the table, cutting what was left of his meal as he did. "That's not what I'm saying. I'm saying a man has to look out for himself, and by tossing food to the birds whenever they come a-knocking, it's a waste of the harvest. Don't get me wrong, now. I don't mind if a Limberrian wastes a harvest on food that I eventually eat, but it's the general principle that's stupid."

The king himself sat comfortably at the head of the table, his back to the north window. He was enjoying himself, listening to his subordinates bicker over these meaningless things. Perhaps that was one of the reasons he enjoyed them so much. It was sure doing wonders to lifting his move after getting back to the castle.

"Gentlemen," he began, "could we discuss our project at hand? I'd like to be updated, if possible. I may attend the scene tomorrow and a briefing right now would give me time to digest. Soren?"

Tartar cleared his throat with the rest of his wine, commanding everyone's attention when the knives and plates stopped rattling. "Well, Your Majesty, the transportation of the airship pieces is going smoothly. The ships from Goug are sturdy and they are getting the job done, needless to say. There are only three ships out there right now, but there is a fourth if we need to speed up the movement. Three days and they should all be moved, provided the skeleton can be disassembled without any delays. That's the last piece to go."

Delita rubbed his nose. "If you're saving the fourth ship as a backup, don't bother. We can spare it, even if it only knocks a few hours off of the overall completion time. I'm sure your men would appreciate the rest they get before the bay area's sealed off, Antirine?"

Antirine swallowed his bite and nodded. "Unloading barrels and moving metal parts is light work compared to the normal routine. I'm sure you could speed up the process by a few days if you just yelled at 'em a couple times." Again, he found amusement in his own words, taking a draught of his ale as a toast to his own wit.

"Nevertheless, getting the area sealed off is the point of no return. Hollister,
if you would."

The professor sat up straight and set down his greasy knife. "I have thought about many methods for sealing the area off, Your Majesty. The first and most difficult manner would probably sealing the bay off from the sea and displacing the water somehow. There are no large-scale engines that could pump water out, at least that I know of, and I cannot complete one in accordance with the schedule, even if Kleff gave me a hand. The second one is that, after the cargo has been delivered and the assembly begins, the area is sealed off like normal,
but the entire area gets padded."

"'Padded?' Delita interrupted. He wasn't sure if the professor had just made up the term for lack of a better definition, of if he was just in the dark again.

"It means that the area will still have water in it, but the ship will float mostly on structured pads...sort of like pillows. Well, that's a bad analogy. Since the assembly area is level with the bay, it wouldn't be extremely hard to place these iron 'pillars' at intervals that allowed for easy floating."

"And just what is the airship going to be floating on" Tartar inquired. "The wood around these parts waterlogs easily and they sink like rocks after awhile. I don't see any other options, unless you can make solid stone float."

The professor sat silent for a moment. "Well, the entire area wouldn't have to float. Like I said, at select intervals, the floatation pieces would be reinforced to hold everything up...to carry the weight of the finished product. Since the area will be sealed off from the sea, the weather should not factor in as much..."

"But how do you know it will hold?" Antirine asked between bites.

"The bay was formed by the sea out of the cliffside by the repetative motion of the sea. If you've been down there, you'll notice there is no beach. There never was a beach -- it was carved out of the stone. The stone doesn't just end where the eye can't see. I have confidence that my plan would work."

The professor looked to Delita, his eyes asking for a reply. "Well," said the King, "if you can place the trust in the iron workers or masons or whoever will be making these structures, and the schedule can proceed as planned, by all means do it. Of course, don't get too creative with it...I don't think the tiny bay will be the permanent housing place for the airship."

"So it's settled," Kleff said with finality. "The birth of an airship is almost at hand."

"With the gate being closed off in the same fashion as a sluice, I imagine that the hard part is over," said Tartar. "Not having a roof might be inconvenient, what with the winds bringing signs of snow soon. But, if the timing is held, I do believe that we will be flying for the first time since the end of the old technological era." Soren spoke with such reverence and proudness that everyone sat for a moment without realizing the silence. Antirine broke it by stabbing a piece of meat on his plate.

"Well," said Delita, as he pulled his roomy chair back, "we've got a busy day ahead of us tomorrow. I trust you'll all be in top shape, because the first step to doing any of enacting our plans is sticking a gate on the bay entrance."

Kleff put down his silverware and wiped his mouth with the embroidered napkin near his right hand. "Soon, we'll all be in the ether, just like the days of old and no one can say we didn't work for it."

It was agreed that he was most correct.