jeriendhal | Flyboys, Part Fourteen (Reply)

Rolas giggled to himself, feeling a bit tipsy even though he’d barely touched his drink. For the trip back home, they’d arranged for Bel and her father and mother to accompany them in their private rail car. Actually it wasn’t theirs, it belonged to Viscount Brushtail’s family. They’d considered taking the cheerful noble’s offer of his private airship, but the boys had opted for comfort over speed. Besides, it gave everyone aboard more time to contemplate their next steps, as the examined and reexamined the contract they had signed with Trans Oceanic’s board of directors.

“I still say we’re going to need a proper factory, and that means setting up shop back East,” Rulfen said. “These engines aren’t going to be one-off jobs you know. If the Cloud Seeker is a success, then she’ll soon be joined by sister ships.”

“And don’t forget, I got a nibble or two from some of the old hands that still know me back at CS,” Master Sharpears said. “They’re talking about pulling up stakes and starting a steam cart business for themselves. We can provide them with the engines for their business as well.”

“We should handle the production of the airship engines only, since even if more the one airship is built it’ll still be a smaller production run than a cart company,” Bel said. “If someone wants to use your cart engine design for themselves, then they can pay a royalty fee. That’ll maximize your profit while minimizing your risk.”

Rulfen nodded, and made Bel smile when he said, “You’re right of course. How do you fancy being our company’s chief financial officer?”

Rolas bit down on his tongue, annoyed that his brother had beaten him to making the offer to Bel. Actually a lot of things about Rulfen had been annoying him lately, mostly concerning Bel. Be fair, he told himself. She’d made claim on neither of them yet, and the Den Mother could be capricious when doling out love anyway. He still might get his chance to prove himself to her.

“I’d feel better if we weren’t directly involved in cart manufacturing,” he said instead. “That was never the point behind improving on your father’s design anyway.”

“However do you mean?” she asked. Rolas began to answer, when the steamer let a long blast on its whistle, and they all stuck their heads out to see the lights of the village station approaching.

“Home a’ last, young Sahs!” Artineth declared, and busied himself gathering up their personal items from around the private car’s sitting room.

Rolas grinned. “I can’t wait to tell Mother how well everything went!”

“I still say it would have be nicer to send a ‘gram ahead,” Bel said. “She hasn’t heard from either of you for almost three weeks.”

“She’ll forgive us once we give this news to her,” Rulfen said, matching Rolas grin.

“We’ve even got a welcoming committee on the platform,” Yorrie noted, still looking out the window.

The steamer shuddered as it squealed to a halt, and the boys sprung out to meet the small knot of people waiting for them. Rolas noted the town constable was there, along with the village mayor. Actually all three mayors from the surrounding villages. He could only wonder if news of their triumph had managed to get ahead of them.

“Hail the conquering heroes!” Rolas greeted them all, as he stepped out onto the platform. “Your mayorships, Constable! It’s so good to see you all.”

“It is good that you and your brother have finally returned, Lord Greycoat,” the first mayor said, making a marginal bow towards him. Odd. None of the little group waiting for them looked at all happy that they had returned.

“We’ve been sending ‘grams to you for almost a week!” the Constable spoke up.

“Oh, you have? Sorry about that, we must have missed them,” Rulfen explained. “We lost our hotel reservation you see, and took up quarters as guests of the Sharpears family. So any messages you sent there is probably still at the front desk.” He started to turn to introduce Bel and her parents, when his brain finally caught up with the greeting that the mayor had given him. Lord Greycoat?

Ruflen, always quicker than he, asked, “What happened?” His eyes were wide, mouth open in surprise.

“Your lady mother had a stroke in the middle of the night some six days ago,” the mayor said. “She did not awaken up from it.”

“What? But... no, that still doesn’t make me...” Rolas began to say.

“She died a little less than three hours ago,” the Constable said, her face filled with grief and betrayal. “We were trying to contact you so you could take an express and return to her. Everyone here has been rudderless for nearly a week, Milord!”

He felt Rulfen’s hand on his shoulder, guiding him back to sit on a bench as his legs went out from under him and the world began to spin. “We’d lost our hotel room, you see...” he said weakly, as Rulfen’s hand became a heavy weight across his back that threatened to drive him straight into the earth...

TBC