The Black Lung Captain - Chris Wooding [139]
Frey thumbed at Pinn. “Soon as he can fly.” He snatched away the remainder of the grog. “Get some coffee inside you.”
“Hey! I can fly anytime!” Pinn cried. He lunged for the grog, his hand slipped, and he crashed onto the table, scattering the empty bottles everywhere.
Frey waited for the cacophony of smashing glass to subside. “We’ll wait a few hours, eh?” he suggested.
“What’s the story, Cap’n?” Malvery asked.
“There’s a town called Endurance, not too far from here. Big aerium-mining operation. Those fellers we were talking to just came from there. A bunch of Century Knights have turned up. And guess who they’re looking for?”
“Grist?”
“Right. Apparently they’re asking for this bloke who they think used to be part of his crew. Feller named Almore Roke. They think he’s in Endurance.”
Malvery frowned. “Why are they lookin’ for Grist?”
“Good question,” said Trinica. “We don’t know. But this man Roke sounds like the best lead we’re likely to get.”
“Oh, is that right?” sneered Pinn. “You calling the shots now?”
Frey gave him a hard look. “No,” he said. “I am. Sober up and get yourself back to the Ketty Jay. Malvery, see that he does.”
Frey and Trinica got up and left. Pinn waited until they were gone, then began mumbling swear words under his breath.
“Don’t worry,” said Malvery, who’d perked up a bit. “Everythin’ will be back to normal before you know it. I’ll get us some coffee.”
IT WAS ALMOST DAWN when Frey flopped into his pilot seat, yawning. He’d managed a couple of hours of sleep before he was roused by Jez. Pinn and Malvery had returned from the bar, and Pinn looked together enough to fly. They probably should have left it until the morning, but Frey was worried they’d miss their opportunity if they did. They needed to get to Endurance as soon as possible.
Jez was already at her station. In the frosty lamplight, Frey could see Harkins running through preflight checks. The pilot had a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, having slept in the cockpit of the Firecrow again. Pinn was clambering into his Skylance nearby.
“Plot us a course for Endurance,” Frey said over his shoulder.
“Did it three hours ago, Cap’n,” Jez replied.
“Why aren’t I surprised?” He stretched and tried to shake off the fuzz of sleep. “Hey, Jez, you’ve been hanging about with Silo, right? How’s the engine?”
“Holding together. He still needs those parts, you know.”
“Yeah,” said Frey. “Maybe one day we’ll have the money to buy them and the luxury of staying in one place long enough to get them ordered in.”
“We can dream, Cap’n.”
Frey smiled to himself. He’d missed their interchanges. The cockpit had seemed cold and hollow without them. Maybe there was still the sense that they were trying a little too hard, but that would fade. They’d broken through the barrier. The tension between them was gone.
He felt positive for the first time in quite a while. Squaring things up with Jez had given him a sense of achievement. One problem fixed. And now they had a solid lead on Grist. At last, something to chase. He was starting to think that things were turning around.
He watched as Pinn settled into his cockpit and flooded the aerium tanks. The Skylance rose gently into the air. Malvery shambled through the doorway of the cockpit and stood there, red-eyed.
“Good work getting him back in one piece,” said Frey. “I thought you’d be out of it by now.”
“Too much coffee,” Malvery said.
“Malvery, meet our new navigator, Jez,” Frey said. “She’s part Mane, you know. Don’t hold it against her.”
Malvery caught the change in the air and played along. “Pleased to meet you,” he said. “I’m Malvery. Resident alcoholic.”
Jez grinned. “It’s an honor to travel in such esteemed company.”
“It is, isn’t it?” Malvery said. “Now, you’d better excuse me. Think I need some grog to take the edge off that coffee.”
Frey was peering through the windglass at the Skylance as it rose. “You think he might be too drunk to fly?” he asked Malvery idly, as the doctor headed out of the cockpit. “Maybe we should’ve waited ’til—”
He was interrupted by a