18 - Tom

TOM

The crisis in the Almenreich treaty port zone of the Midlands had me and Max Stationer working like dogs, and we didn't mind. It was nice to get out of the lab and into the field with more independence. The Almenreich's Sunrim Fleet, as far as we could tell, had been ordered to steam back to the Far West to participate in their civil war on one side or another. This left their Midlands holding to fall immediately into banditry and chaos.

As I understood it, President Forge of the Midland Civic Union had made some noise about sending in troops to secure the area. That would have given him yet another Midland province under his dominion and put another contentious border right on our doorstep in our own Midland holding of East Northsombre. So, our job as the Paxanan armed forces was to go and stabilize the remnant Almenreicher colonial government. Secondarily, the objective was to make sure that it was Paxana-aligned loyalists, not Western-aligned rebels, who were in charge.

Max and I, thankfully, were not physically going to the Midlands. We were to remain in the city of Paxlight, which was on the western side of the Isle of Paxana. Our job was to coordinate the food and medicine transfers onto Navy ships. Then the Navy would sail over to the Almenreich holding and establish their own form of order.

To this end, I was standing on a dock at midday with spotty young Max. We both had our arms crossed, looking down at the mass of men who worked the quays. Dozens and dozens of lowborns pulled wooden carts packed high with much-needed relief. At the end of the dock, floating on the gray sea, the aircraft carrier Redcastle and her escort fleet waited to be loaded up.

“These should all be trucks, every one of these carts,” I said, pointing at the lowborn men who were straining to heave the heavy crates.

“Trucks take engines,” said Max.

“Paxcorp makes engines,” I replied.

Max was in a testy mood. “Trucks take rubber and steel.”

“Rubber from Darkland,” I said. “Steel from Arcfortdom. One truck can pull a load of twenty, thirty men, save their backs, travel at speed.”

“You don't need to sell me on motorization, Tom,” said my scrappy underling. “I'm just saying these things take time and money.”

I put my hands on my hips and continued to watch the elderly dock men struggle with the carts. Nearby, our Major Summiter was arguing with a Navy man by the name of Admiral Mountbasin. Mountbasin was one of the most important men in all the armed forces, and he was known by reputation to be measured and thoughtful. Summiter, at least on this afternoon, was not.

“That steel was promised for small arms factories,” our major shouted at the admiral. “The Army needs rifles.”

I turned my head and took a step closer to listen. This disagreement, as sensitive as it was, was being conducted quite publicly. “Before the enemies of Paxana ever reach your Army, Herman, they must go through our fleet at sea,” Mountbasin said back.

Square-headed Summiter was growing a bit pink in the face. “And when we deploy to foreign shores, your precious Navy steel sits languishing at port while our infantry fight and die to secure the interior.”

“Do not raise your voice with me, Major,” said Mountbasin, reminding our boss of his rank.

“Apologies, Admiral,” said Summiter. I could tell he was still fuming.

“Summiter’s getting put in place,” I murmured to Max, calling his attention to the altercation.

For some reason, Maxwell Stationer seemed preoccupied with the hour. He checked his watch for the fifth time in ten minutes and nudged me. “How about we grab a bite up at the street market?” he asked.

“You go,” I said. “I want to hear what Summiter says.”

Maxwell Stationer looked bothered. “Tom,” he said, “just trust me.”

I turned to Max and tried to figure out what the devil was going on with him. I had absolutely no clue, and the expression on his face did not help.

“Sure, Max,” I said, acceding to his urgency. “Let’s go.”

Only slightly annoyed, I followed him up the road and left Summiter and Mountbasin to argue alone.

Halfway from the docks to the street, I again took umbrage with this diversion. “You know, I’m not really hungry,” I said. “And if the Army loses that new steel, it might ripple all the way down to the motor-lathe program.”

“Tom,” said Max, “get your head out of your blueprints and look in front of you.”

It took me a second to realize he meant that literally. We had reached the top of the steep asphalt road from the docks and were now standing on a picturesque commercial street. I looked up and saw a beautiful young woman in a ribboned hat and mint green dress standing on the sidewalk. She looked like a painting, leaning against the rail overlooking the port. Her skin was white as porcelain, and her bobbed straight hair was ink black. She had warm hazel eyes and the most beautiful face I could imagine.

It was, to my astonishment, Violet Shrineborne.

“What?!” I shouted, scaring a few passersby. With slack-jawed joy, I ran to her, holding both my arms out. She laughed as I scooped her into a spin, holding her off the ground by the waist. I kissed her neck and cheek all over as we spun and spun in circles. “How are you here?” I asked, giddy as a lamb. “You got leave?”

When I set her down and let the breath back into her, she beamed and explained. “I called the lab and your friend Max picked up, and he agreed to help me surprise you.”

Thoughts raced through my head. I couldn't believe it. It was a dream. “How long have we got?” I asked.

“Just tonight,” said Violet. “Then I need to report to the convent.”

“Gosh, you look like a masterpiece,” I said, holding her arms. The whole world had turned to heaven before my eyes.

“I have my own money now. Can you believe it?” she said, showing off her new dress and hat. “I don’t have to go through the templegoers’ secondhand bin.”

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

I’d always known Violet to be poor, and I’d always dreamed of the day she could dress in nice clothes and go about as a lady should. It was unspeakably wonderful to see that that moment had come. The only souring factor was the fact that it had not been me who had done it all for her.

“I should be buying you everything you want,” I said, guilt-stricken and conflicted.

“You’ll have plenty of years for that, love,” said Violet.

I thought of kissing her, but I didn’t want to embarrass her in public. Sensing that Max was still there, I looked over at my assistant. “I’m gonna take the night off,” I said.

Max, possibly more than Violet, had surprised me. He was always so cantankerous. I couldn’t have imagined that he would have staged anything so elaborate just for my benefit. “It’s already worked out with Summiter,” he said, smiling. “Be seeing you.”

With that, he waved and walked off. I shook my head, leaning against the stone rail beside her, and put my arm around her waist. “Wow,” I said, “you two could give the Secret Police a run for their money, the way you schemed this.”

Violet laughed at the turn of phrase.

“What?” I asked.

“Nothing,” she said, glancing down at the sidewalk.

At that moment, I remembered that I was carrying something for her. I couldn't wait a second longer to pass it over. Reaching into my trouser pocket, I pulled out a gold necklace on a chain and handed it over. I was nervous, maybe a bit shaky, as I did so. “I had this made for you,” I said, “with our house crests.”

It was a locket. When it opened, on one side was House Trussford. On the other was House Shrineborne. It was both a gesture of love and a gesture of defiance. I was Trussford whether my parents liked it or not, and my marriage to Violet would mean a union of my house with hers. Status be damned. There was nothing they could do to stop me.

“I didn’t know Shrineborne had a crest,” Violet said softly, touching the right side of the open locket in her thin hands.

“Well, I went to the archives and found it,” I explained, “and some records of your mother’s side in Sunmount, going back to the 121s. Tax stuff, not the most glamorous, but it’s got all the names.”

She shut it and examined the outside, which was smartly crafted. “This will go perfectly with those earrings she left me,” she said.

I nodded. A fine pair of gold earrings was one of the only things Violet Shrineborne had left from her late mother. She had told me many a time that she longed for the day when she would own nice enough clothes to wear them without seeming silly. “That was the idea,” I told her, and reached behind her neck to clasp the chain. As I did so, I saw her start to sniffle and cry.

“Tom, you really got this made for me?” she asked, touching it again.

“Call it a promise,” I said, “until there’s a ring.”

I was startled by the pat of an old man who was walking by. He grinned, revealing missing teeth, and gave me a gesture of approval. “Make her a wife,” he said, loud and plain. “Start the next generation.”

At the words of the elder, I bowed in respect, and so did Violet. “Thank you, forefather,” we both said, as we’d been raised to.

He seemed surprised at this. “With manners like that, you must not be from Pax!” he guffawed. “Ha ha. Spirits bless you.” Then the man walked on.

We turned back to each other and remade our moment of togetherness. I had a million questions to ask, and I didn’t know where to possibly begin. “Are they treating you well at the convent?” I asked.

Violet smiled and nodded. I saw her jaw tense as a chilly wind blew, and she shivered. “Here,” I said, putting my own suit jacket over her shoulders.

“I would have packed warmer,” she explained, as if apologizing for taking the clothes off my back. “I just thought you’d be at the guild club.”

Normally, I would have been. “We’re on deadline to get this aid off to Clairplage,” I explained.

“Clairplage, in the Midlands?” she asked.

“Yes,” I said. “The Almenreichers are pulling their Sunrim fleet out to help in their civil war. Their treaty zone on the North Midland coast is on the brink of crisis. People could starve. We’re sending the carrier Redcastle west with rations and medicine.”

I had left out the part about us doing it to stand up to Forge and his MCU. “You’re not just tinkering with trains, Tom Trussford. You’re saving lives,” said Violet, with a sort of awe.

Without my jacket, I felt the wind cut me, and I crossed my arms as I watched a crane load pallets onto the carrier deck. “Trying to,” I said.

“You’re not cold?” she asked me.

I looked over at her, and my heart felt like an inferno. “I’m on fire,” I said, reaching out, as if to remind myself she was real. I touched her face.

Then I saw trepidation in those eyes I’d known so many years. “There’s something I need to tell you so it doesn’t eat me up,” she said, looking ever so slightly sorrowful.

I didn’t want to speculate as to what it could be. I simply withdrew my hand. “All right,” I said, bracing for it.

Violet went on. “There’s a sister at the convent. She’s supposed to be, well, a sort of mentor-friend.”

“I see,” I said.

“And she’s fond of me,” said Violet. Still, this did not seem like any reason for heartache.

“As she should be,” I told her.

“Rather too fond,” said Violet, as if struggling to get her point across.

I cocked my head. “How can she be too fond?”

Violet searched for the words. “Say, as a man would be.”

This was all quite preposterous to me, and I didn’t know how to begin addressing my confusion without being crass. “But,” I said, “she doesn’t have, you know, what she’d need for such things.”

“That doesn’t stop her from throwing herself all over me,” said Violet.

Again, I leaned against the stone rail and tried to form a cogent, responsible thought. “What do the other sisters have to say about it?” I asked. I was so unaware of the culture within the National Sorceress Corps that I hadn’t the slightest clue whether this stuff was typical or rare.

“Oh, they’re all for each other worse than she for me,” said Violet.

I scratched the back of my neck. “Baffling.”

“I just didn’t want to feel I had a secret from you. I don’t want any secrets from each other, ever.”

After a pause, I asked the only real question that mattered. “Are you fond for her?”

“No,” said Violet. “Not in a way like that. I mean, it’s nice to have someone so nice to me in the Corps.”

“And when she does these things, what she does? You don’t feel...”

“What?” asked Violet.

“As you would with me?” I asked. I’d never known Violet to be one for such strange things, but I wanted to know for sure.

To my surprise, she embraced me and kissed me. “Tom, no one in the world makes me feel like I do with you. I love you. Forever. Truth be told, all her affections just make me think of you more.”

I held her tight, and we both made each other just a little bit warmer as the wintery wind did its worst. “Then it can’t be all bad,” I said, kissing her head. “I’ll just have to kiss you twice as much to stay in the running.”

Violet lay her head on my shoulder and let out a noise of exclamation.

“What?” I asked, surprised.

“I’m just so relieved you’re not furious,” she smiled.

“I just want you happy, Violet Shrineborne,” I said. “Us happy. Two little people on this big spinning globe.”

As I said it, I noticed a scabbed scar on the bridge of her nose between her eyes. It looked rather bad. “Were you hurt?” I asked, putting a finger toward it but not wanting to hurt her more by touching it.

She looked evasive in a way I wasn’t used to. “Things just happen.”

“They’re not abusing you—”

“No. No one’s abusing me. I... Tom. Things have moved very quickly in the Corps for me, to everyone’s surprise. And I can’t tell anyone what I’m doing, not even you, and if you ask about a scar or a scratch I’ll only be tempted, so please, let’s just have our evening on the town.”