money to buy one ticket much less three,” Sophie said, panic rising in her voice.
“You've trusted me this far, Sophie,” David said, steering them through the dark streets. “Trust me a little longer and we'll get through this.”
Sophie and Brian followed him as quietly as they could and they came out in a badly lit street, one that had almost as much trash in it as they alley they emerged from, to the sounds of several fights and raucous music competing from several open doorways.
With a single glance to get his bearings, David led them two buildings over and ducked inside the dimly lit Gas Leak , motioning for Sophie and Brian to stay close.
There were private booths for hire and David parted with some of Sophie's dearly held coins to secure one, asking him to let the word go around discreetly that they were looking for a quick ship out of the city. A short nod and a grunt seemed to be all David needed to lead the trio to a curtained alcove near the back and usher them inside.
A serious looking serving girl, dressed as properly as possible for the surroundings, brought a round of drinks to set on the table. “You've someone wanting to talk to you,” she said.
“We're only open to certain kinds of visitors,” David replied, accepting the drink in front of him.
“This is one I'm thinking you'll want,” she said. “Something about only being in the docks for a short while longer.”
“Very well,” David said and the girl left, closing the curtains firmly behind her.
“Did you order these?” Sophie asked, gesturing to the drinks in front of them.
“No, they are sent as a symbol of goodwill from the people requesting an audience,” David said. “I would, however, suggest waiting to drink until we hear them out.”
“Can you drink this?” Brian asked.
“I have the physical capabilities of ingesting a liquid though it will do me no good and will need to be expelled before it corrodes the metal.”
A puzzled look passed over Sophie's face before she shook her head. “I don't need to know anything else about that,” she said.
Brian laughed and leaned forward to sniff the drink in front of him. “That's not beer,” he said.
“It's grog,” Sophie told him. “Rum and water, the kind of thing flyers drink when they're over the ocean.”
“I've never heard of such a thing. I thought rum was expensive,” he said, giving it an experimental lick. “Too expensive for flyers, anyway, and not likely to be served in a fine establishment like this.”
“You get a taste for it on the way over, when you're on a ship from the plantations, from what I understand. The water is to stretch it, or perhaps the rum is a way to make the water more palatable after being processed through the steam rooms, but it certainly is less expensive than a bottle of rum would be. Although, with the price of rum going down, I would not be surprised that the taste for it has spread to the land drinkers.”
“There's been a good market for rum, these days,” a voice said outside the curtain. It opened to reveal an older man, tall and obviously a flyer, standing in the hallway outside the alcove. “Always has been but now it's opened a bit wider.”
“Hello, captain,” David said. “I take it you sent us the drinks?”
“Aye, I did. I heard you were looking for a ship that was heading out soon. Is that true?”
“True enough, as that goes,” David answered. “Won't you join us, Captain?”
“Murphy, James Murphy, Captain of the Tropical Steam. Where are you heading, metal man, with your metal woman?”
“No destination in particular,” he answered. “The city has gotten a bit too hot for the likes of us these days and we need to leave in something of a hurry.”
“I heard something about an arsonist who tried to kill her landlady and set fire to a hospital? That you?” He asked Sophie.
“Only technically,” she answered and the captain laughed.
“I wondered. I'm heading over the ocean to
“You've trusted me this far, Sophie,” David said, steering them through the dark streets. “Trust me a little longer and we'll get through this.”
Sophie and Brian followed him as quietly as they could and they came out in a badly lit street, one that had almost as much trash in it as they alley they emerged from, to the sounds of several fights and raucous music competing from several open doorways.
With a single glance to get his bearings, David led them two buildings over and ducked inside the dimly lit Gas Leak , motioning for Sophie and Brian to stay close.
There were private booths for hire and David parted with some of Sophie's dearly held coins to secure one, asking him to let the word go around discreetly that they were looking for a quick ship out of the city. A short nod and a grunt seemed to be all David needed to lead the trio to a curtained alcove near the back and usher them inside.
A serious looking serving girl, dressed as properly as possible for the surroundings, brought a round of drinks to set on the table. “You've someone wanting to talk to you,” she said.
“We're only open to certain kinds of visitors,” David replied, accepting the drink in front of him.
“This is one I'm thinking you'll want,” she said. “Something about only being in the docks for a short while longer.”
“Very well,” David said and the girl left, closing the curtains firmly behind her.
“Did you order these?” Sophie asked, gesturing to the drinks in front of them.
“No, they are sent as a symbol of goodwill from the people requesting an audience,” David said. “I would, however, suggest waiting to drink until we hear them out.”
“Can you drink this?” Brian asked.
“I have the physical capabilities of ingesting a liquid though it will do me no good and will need to be expelled before it corrodes the metal.”
A puzzled look passed over Sophie's face before she shook her head. “I don't need to know anything else about that,” she said.
Brian laughed and leaned forward to sniff the drink in front of him. “That's not beer,” he said.
“It's grog,” Sophie told him. “Rum and water, the kind of thing flyers drink when they're over the ocean.”
“I've never heard of such a thing. I thought rum was expensive,” he said, giving it an experimental lick. “Too expensive for flyers, anyway, and not likely to be served in a fine establishment like this.”
“You get a taste for it on the way over, when you're on a ship from the plantations, from what I understand. The water is to stretch it, or perhaps the rum is a way to make the water more palatable after being processed through the steam rooms, but it certainly is less expensive than a bottle of rum would be. Although, with the price of rum going down, I would not be surprised that the taste for it has spread to the land drinkers.”
“There's been a good market for rum, these days,” a voice said outside the curtain. It opened to reveal an older man, tall and obviously a flyer, standing in the hallway outside the alcove. “Always has been but now it's opened a bit wider.”
“Hello, captain,” David said. “I take it you sent us the drinks?”
“Aye, I did. I heard you were looking for a ship that was heading out soon. Is that true?”
“True enough, as that goes,” David answered. “Won't you join us, Captain?”
“Murphy, James Murphy, Captain of the Tropical Steam. Where are you heading, metal man, with your metal woman?”
“No destination in particular,” he answered. “The city has gotten a bit too hot for the likes of us these days and we need to leave in something of a hurry.”
“I heard something about an arsonist who tried to kill her landlady and set fire to a hospital? That you?” He asked Sophie.
“Only technically,” she answered and the captain laughed.
“I wondered. I'm heading over the ocean to
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