Patchwork Earth Book 1: Chapters 17 & 18 (Patreon)

Chapter 17

Goto’s pulse quickened. “You have mistaken us for somebody else.” That seemed to keep happening in Patchwork, he left unsaid. “We can talk this over like reasonable… beings.” He managed to not call them a yokai. It didn’t seem wise to push the Tralingan further.

“Save your words, trash!” The orange being quivered with rage, and Goto thought he could see tentacle around the strange weapon’s stock twitch.

Goto’s training took command before his conscious mind was aware of it. He weaved right, and a bright flash like lightning filled the space he’d occupied. A horrid, burning stench filled his nostrils as he drew his sword. The Tralingan’s square eyes widened a moment before the katana cleaved right through his tentacles. The weapon discharged uselessly as it slammed into the ground, sending another bolt of death into the sky.

Bose didn’t give the octopus-men in the bamboo a chance to avenge their leader. His pistol was in his hand, and he fanned the hammer, unloading a barrage of bullets into the thicket. Wet gurgles of pain told Goto that his companion’s aim had been true.

Goto had never considered how to hold an octopus hostage before. He had never seen one that had not been dried or butchered first. He hoped that his sword was pressing against something vital in the creature’s head. Klai took the opportunity to collect the ray gun and back up Bose.

“Stand down, Tralingan,” he said. “Tell your men to surrender. We mean you no harm, but that can change.”

The creature let out a weak gurgle as blue liquid leaked from its severed limbs. “Those will take an age to grow back,” he griped.

“It will take longer to grow back your head,” said Goto.

“A fair point, Romish.” The Tralingan inhaled, its head inflating like a bellows. “Drop your ray guns and come on out!”

“I-” Goto began.

“We ain’t Romish,” said Bose. He gave the samurai a sly grin. “Figured I’d save you the trouble this time.”

Goto returned it, despite the situation.

There were four Tralingans in total, counting the hostage. It seemed that none of them had been too badly wounded by Bose’s blind firing, though one was leaning against its fellow for support. Good. If these yokai could regrow their limbs, then they wouldn’t take their injuries as personally as a human attacker might.

“I think you’re telling the truth,” said the lead Tralingan. “I’ve never known a Romish to deny it. They’re too prideful for that.”

“They are full of tricks,” replied Klai. “But these two are not.”

“Seems that the polite thing to do is to introduce yourself,” said Bose. “You do that, and say the right things, we might see fit to lowering our weapons.”

“I am First Mate Saxtin,” gurgled the Tralingan. “I lead these men, now.”

“A pleasure,” said Bose. “We’re…”

Klai gave Bose an elbow to the ribs. “Still too trusting! They just tried to kill us!”

“Shoot, out on the trail, that’s how we say hello,” said Bose.

Goto though he had to be kidding. How could he be so forgiving of these people who had just tried to kill them? Was this what they called turning the other cheek? He had heard of that Christian madness many a time in San Francisco, but he’d never seen anybody actually practice it. He had to admit, though, the cowboy’s calming aura seemed to be having the desired effect on the Tralingans.

Not so much on their other companion, though. “Well, I take it personally,” said Klai. “We came out here to assist you, and you still fired on a delphen on delphen land!”

“What?” Saxtin tilted his head to the side and let out a confused gurgle. Goto was impressed at the creature’s resistance to pain. He doubted he’d be carrying on a conversation if he had lost limbs.

Klai scowled at the prisoner. “Surely you know whose land you crashed on!”

“Not that,” said Saxtin. “We expected no rescue. We’re out here in the middle of nowhere, a hundred miles from civilized species.”

Goto thought it was bad form to slap a prisoner, but he couldn’t blame Klai. The other Tralingans protested, but a look from Goto cowed them.

“I wouldn’t insult the Blessed Oasis like that again,” said Goto. “It isn’t healthy.”

“Allow me to rephrase,” he said, wincing in more evident pain than when he had been relieved of his tentacles. “We are a hundred miles from home and anybody who would care if we lived or died.”

“We were sent by your trading partner, Captain Delacroix,” replied Goto.

“Captain who?” He tilted his head the other way and let out a confused, dry grunt. Goto was glad he was expressive that way, since that and variations in the shape of his eyes were the only body language he could make out.

Bose cut a triumphant Klai off. “Yeah, yeah, you were right. We can’t trust her as far as we can throw her.”

The delphen’s clicking sounded smugly satisfied to Goto. “As long as you understand. I imagine you’re here for the delphens, Saxtin?”

“Negative,” replied Saxtin. “We were here to rendezvous with another vessel.”

“Who were you meeting?” asked Bose.

“I cannot say. That secret died with our captain, sadly. All I knew was we were to meet near this spot.”

“Y’see? Could be that they were there to supply her,” said Bose, as smug as Klai was crestfallen.

“Why the secrecy?” asked Goto.

“Don’t tell him, Saxtin!” declared one of the other tralingans.

“There’s no harm in it now. We had stolen goods on board.” Saxtin let out a pained grunt. “Please, it’s been a hellish day. You aren’t Romish, so there’s a chance you know of compassion. Put down your weapons. We are at your mercy and, if you are here to help us, in your debt.”

Goto met Bose’s gaze. The cowboy nodded once, which Goto returned. The samurai thought his companion was still too trusting, but it wouldn’t do to show more division in front of a possible enemy. He sheathed his sword, hoping he wouldn’t regret it.

“Klai, do you know where we are?”

She nodded. “There’s a delphen village a day’s march inland.”

Saxtin gurgled awkwardly. “We would not be welcome there.”

“You would have me to vouch for you,” said Klai.

Goto had never seen an octopus look bashful before. “The contraband might have come from there.”

Klai hadn’t holstered her weapon, lacking a holster. She brandished the stolen ray gun at Saxtin. “You stole it?”

“Stole? That is a strong word.”

“Is it an accurate word?” asked Goto.

The Tralingan’s orange skin turned a light pink around its head. Was it blushing? “It is not inaccurate.” He raised his remaining tentacles defensively. “Calm down, we don’t have the anti-grav crystal anymore!”

Goto looked quizzically at Klai. “I thought you said your people don’t have airships.”

“We don’t,” she protested. “We certainly don’t have spare anti-grav crystals to steal.”

“They used to,” said Saxtin. “Where it came from, we couldn’t tell you, but it showed up on our sensors, and we had a buyer. They are hard to keep your suckers on in the wastelands. High demand, short supply. When you find one that’s poorly defended, you take advantage.”

“Seems that other airship captain had the same idea.” Bose covered Klai’s mouth before she could react with justifiable fury. “Explains why Nathalie needed one so badly.”

“Then you must have been shot down by delphens,” said Goto. “They are quite protective of their borders.”

“Negative,” he said. “We didn’t get a good look at our attackers’ airship, but we could tell they were Romish. They knocked us out of the sky and started shelling us.”

“That don’t make a lick of sense,” said Bose. “I’ve seen airship cannons at work. They’re mighty powerful. You have to be careful enough with plain old coal or it’ll go up.”

“Primitives,” said one of the Tralingans with a dismissive gurgle. “Anti-grav crystals are almost indestructible. Infants know that.”

“You, however, aren’t indestructible,” barked Goto, his hand flying to his hip. “Keep a civil tongue…” He trailed off. Did Tralingans even have tongues? “Speak respectfully or I’ll teach you manners.”

“Shut up, Felthin,” commanded Saxtin. “Pardon my crewmember. I am sure it is only the heat and the insect bites speaking. Raiding a ship for the anti-grav crystal is called a ‘cracking the coconut.’ You knock them out of the sky, then bombard them until there is nothing left but the crystal. It’s as brutal as it is effective, so long as you have the firepower.”

“I say we take them back to Nathalie,” said Bose. “She could give them a place to hole up until we get this mess sorted out.”

“What? What if she was the attacker?” asked Goto.

“Stop being suspicious for a spell and think,” replied Bose. “If she stole their crystal, why send us out to find it? She’d already have a new one.”

“That’s a good point. I think we need more information.” Goto nodded to the First Mate. “Tell me, do you still have this sensor? The one that could spot the anti-grav crystal?”

Saxtin nodded. “Yes, it’s a simple gravitational compass.” At his prodding, one of the other Tralingans pulled out a device the size of a pocket watch. It had a screen as clear as glass, though it didn’t feel as smooth under Goto’s finger. “It detects disruptions in spacetime.”

“Spacetime?” It was Goto’s turn to be confused. He had heard the word gravity, but he wasn’t clear on what it was, aside from the idea that things fell downwards. “What is spacetime?”

“It is a bit complex to go into now,” replied Saxtin. “It is enough that it can find the crystal.”

“You’re all overlooking something very important! They raided one of our villages!” Klai shoved Bose’s hand aside. “Tell me, how many of my people did you kill to get that crystal? Is there even a village there anymore?”

“None, I swear!” Saxtin trembled as he stared down the business end of the borrowed ray gun.

“Then stop dancing around the truth,” barked Klai.

“I-it was buried in the outskirts of the village, behind one of the cabins. We came and bought provisions from the delphens and dug it up while they were busy gathering them. They didn’t even know we had done it. There was no violence. At least, until the Romish ship showed up.”

Goto stayed out of the bickering, instead playing with the compass. It was simple, as much as he hadn’t cared for Felthin’s condescension. One button expanded the range it scanned, while the next brought it closer. Their lifeboat created a tiny signature that vanished when he went further afield. There were two more substantial signatures. One was back in the wastes, completely immobile, which he took to be La Récompense Éternel.

The other was twice as bright and heading right their way. If he listened carefully, he could just make out a high-pitched whine.

“You can have this back,” said Goto as he tossed the compass back to the captive Tralingans. “I will need both hands soon enough.”

Chapter 18

The motley group quickly agreed to hide in the bamboo stands and put aside any thought of who had the drop on who. What Goto had thought of as turning the other cheek was less religiosity and more practicality. Enemies and friends were a fluid thing out in the wilderness. It was best to be flexible.

Bose and Goto allowed the Tralingans to recover their weapons, though Klai stubbornly held onto hers.

“I suppose I can’t use it right now anyway,” muttered Saxtin, quivering under a palm leaf he’d found in the clearing.

Bose’s throat went dry as the Romish vessel drifted into view. La Récompense Éternel and the downed Tralingan vessel had struck the cowboy as normal enough sailing vessels, besides their stubborn refusal to obey the laws of gravity. They had the look of ships that could pick a fight, but could just as easily be used for a peaceful journey.

He was looking at a warship, plain and simple. The cigar-shaped vessel was smaller than the other airships he had seen, but it radiated menace. The monstrosity reminded him of photos he’d seen of the new ironclads from back home.

It parted the air like an arrow, its long, metallic body seemingly made of one solid piece. That impression was dashed when it came to a halt and landing struts sprouted from its underside. The long, spindly landing gear reminded Bose of a daddy long legs, after it was short a few legs. It slowly lowered itself down towards the clearing the crashed ship had made and he had to stop himself from saying something unchristian.

Felthin saved him the trouble. “By the abyss, haven’t they done enough? What are they doing here? They already have the crystal!”

“They probably saw our boat on their sensors,” said Goto.

“Those bastards,” said Klai. “They don’t even have the decency to fly their flag! They’re thieves and pirates!”

“I am more concerned that they landed between us and our vessel,” replied Goto.

“Then we ain’t gonna talk our way out of this,” said Bose, pulling out his revolver.

“Do we have a plan?” asked Klai.

“We could take our chances with the delphen village,” suggested Saxtin.

“That would doom Captain Delacroix,” replied Goto. “It would take too long by foot.”

“Seems to me we have the element of surprise,” said Bose. The ground rumbled as the mysterious anti-gravity of the ship’s crystal violently shoved against Patchwork’s pull. “We wait for them to open the gangplank, and let ‘em have it.”

“Are you mad?” Klai let out a panicked squeal before she silenced herself. “That’s a Romish patrol boat! It has enough firepower to level whole villages!”

He gave the delphen a confident grin. “I ain’t seen much of Patchwork, but it seems to me they gotta open up them portholes if they want to use their weapons on us. They ain’t expecting a fight. They think they already won.”

Goto crouched down like a spring ready to uncoil. “On your word, Bose.”

“You want to kill us indirectly, then?”

“You got a better idea?” asked Bose. “Sure as shootin’ they’re going to steal our boat. If they do that, Nathalie’s people are done, and we might not be far behind them.”

As if to drive home Bose’s point, a mosquito the size of a silver dollar landed on Saxtin’s head. The Tralingan waved it off with a stumpy tentacle before letting out a wet sigh. “Very well. We have your backs.”

A bent tube extended from the top of the warship, followed by another on the underside. They glinted in the sunlight, and Bose wondered if they were some sort of strange spyglass. He supposed that with the ship not having portholes, they needed some way to see out. They retracted and a cloud of steam emerged from a vent at the ship’s rear. A gangplank lowered from the airship’s belly, and a group of five men ambled out.

Bose had seen pictures of the ancient Romans in books, and he knew of them from the Gospels. When he kept hearing of the Romish over and over again, he had assumed they would look like in his books. He wasn’t far off. The muscular humans were dressed in bright red tunics that stopped at the knees. Each carried a short sword on his belt, but they also had ray guns similar to the Tralingan crews slung on their backs. Two had theirs drawn and they glanced around warily. The others made their way over to the lifeboat, which Bose could just make out under the ship.

Klai clicked with righteous indignation. “It is them! Pirates! Thieves!”

One of the armed Romish turned and shouted something Bose couldn’t make out.

Goto cast the delphen an angry glare. “Learn some manners, Klai!” Before she could respond, he was off like a shot.

Speaking of shots, one of the Romish’s ray guns flashed. One of the Tralingans screeched in agony before falling over dead. The smell of flash-fried calamari reminded Bose of New Orleans. Was he getting… hungry?

“That ain’t right,” muttered Bose. He drew a bead on the other Romish and fired. His shot went high and punched a hole in the side of the patrol boat. The whole vessel shuddered, and the Romish underneath shouted in panic as they scrambled out from beneath it.

“What in heaven’s name is in that gun?” asked Saxtin, his voice trembling. “It shrugged off our cannons!”

Bose wasn’t sure himself. The shoveltusker hadn’t been blown to smithereens before. Was it because he was a Worldwalker? If his bandolier was magic, the same might apply to the gun. Bose almost told him, but he remembered Nathalie’s warning that there were predators everywhere. “Can’t beat a Colt revolver.”

Klai and the Tralingans let loose with their own ray guns. Two of the Romish were cut down, while one of the beams struck the hull. It dissipated harmlessly, making Bose’s feat with the revolver all the more confusing.

Goto wasn’t far behind their barrage. His katana flashed, and the leather armor of the Romish parted like it was tissue paper. If Goto noticed the shrieks of the dismembered Romish left in his wake, he gave no sign of it. Instead, he darted past them and dashed right up the gangplank.

“What’s that fool boy doing?”

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Next Chapter: 19 & 20