The Black Lung Captain - By Chris Wooding Page 0,36
air fleet to the south, more than the strange and hostile people of Peleshar with their bizarre sciences, more than the rumours that came out of New Vardia, of disappearing colonies and sinister portents. Nobody knew for sure what the Manes were, or what they wanted.
He checked his crew. Silo was typically inscrutable. Crake looked ill. But it was Jez who worried him most. She had a stricken expression on her face. Maybe he should have left her outside with Malvery and Pinn, Ucke and Tarworth. But no: he wanted clear-headed and reliable people in here with him, and these three were the best he had.
'You alright?' he asked her quietly.
She gave him a distracted nod and a false smile. 'Fine, Cap'n. Place just makes me jumpy.'
'Keep it together, all of you,' he said. 'There's nothing here but bad memories.'
He wished he could be half as sure as he sounded.
The bow end of the craft had listed away from the stern half, making the floor slope awkwardly. Frey had to concentrate to stop his feet from sliding. He glanced down black passageways, imagining Manes at the end of them, with crooked teeth and hateful eyes.
It was cold here, among the metal and the pipes. Empty. No animals had crept in, even after decades rusting in the rainforest. No insects. Something about this place made them stay away. Frey thought he sensed it too. There was an unease about the dreadnought that troubled his instincts. A feeling of wrongness in the stale air.
It seemed they were on some sort of maintenance deck, though it was hard to tell. There were no signs or similar indicators. The dreadnought's interior was relentlessly bare. Their lanterns pressed light through shadowy doorways, illuminating the flanks of unfamiliar machines beyond.
'Through here,' Hodd announced, and Frey saw that they'd reached the end of a passageway. A heavy iron door was half-open there, wide enough for a slim man to slip through. Hodd struggled to open it further. 'Let me just . . . see if I can . . .'
'I'll do it,' said Grist. He took hold of the door and shoved it open with a squeal of hinges.
'Watch your step,' Hodd advised, as he led the way. 'It's quite a fall.'
Frey understood what he meant when he entered the room beyond. They were on a walkway overlooking a cavernous cargo hold. Due to the slant of the craft, the floor of the walkway tilted them towards that gaping abyss. Only a railing stood between them and the dark. Ahead of them, Hodd was shuffling along carefully, one hand fixed to the railing.
Frey peered over the edge, but whatever was down there was beyond the range of the lanternlight. 'I'd like to take a look at what they're carrying,' he mused aloud. His voice echoed back to him faintly.
'In time, in time, Cap'n Frey,' said Grist. 'First port o' call is this door that Mr Hodd spoke of. The one with the invisible barrier. Somethin' worth guardin' is somethin' worth stealin', I reckon.'
'Fair enough,' said Frey. He turned to Jez, who was close at his shoulder, and whispered to her, 'What can you see down there?'
'Building materials,' she replied quietly. 'Girders, slate, joists, stuff like that. Metals like I haven't seen before.'
'Building materials?' Frey was disappointed. He'd been hoping for piles of gems.
'Manes have a thing about disassembly. They can strip whole factories in a couple of days and carry them off. I mean brick by brick. They used to do that all the time in the North.
'They steal factories?'
'Hangars, refineries . . . anything, really,' she said. 'They'd come in fleets, pull everything apart, load it up and take it away. At least, they used to. Not so much nowadays. Now it's mostly people they come for.'
Frey nudged her to get her attention. Grist was watching her with interest, evidently wondering why she was gazing into the impenetrable blackness. Her uncanny vision was something Frey wasn't keen on explaining. 'Don't be too obvious, eh?' he muttered.
'Sorry, Cap'n,' she said, looking away.
'So what's in the hold is the remains of something the Manes disassembled?'
'I don't think so. Everything's all too neat and new-looking. Looks more like they're going to build something. They've got carts, pumps, piping . . . You want my guess? Down there, you've got everything you'd need to set up a small colony.'
Frey didn't like the sound of that at all. 'A colony? You've got to be kidding.'