Word count and excerpt
Nov. 2nd, 2009 07:53 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
valarltdI fail at focus....
2117 words on the airship pirates.
408 on Uncanny Valley
Have some steampunk. It's more fun.
The great luxury airship, Star of the Sky, cruised elegantly against the August sunset, her engines churning along, her colorful dirigible envelope full. The swells on her deck moved about in bustled summer gowns and dinner attire, sipping cocktails and chattering about sporting events, shuffleboard and whist.
Belowdecks stank of coal and burning, the hellish heat increased by occasional bursts of steam from the various boilers, the whistle breaking up the work-chants of the crew. Henry Toben mopped his face with a sweat- and oil-soaked handkerchief, stuffed it back into his overalls and checked his boiler again, bleeding off a bit of steam as it got too full. The pressure gauge had been running redline all trip and the boiler was heating too quickly.
Must have a thin spot, Henry decided. When they landed, he would check every weld and rivet and plate of it. The ship's bell clanged out eight strokes. End of the last dog watch. He was free until morning watch. When Barger came to relieve him, he pointed out the problematic pressure gauge and went up into the crew quarters.
After a wash, since the Star had running water even for the crew, he found his way to the crew's relaxation deck. Unlike a sailing ship, there was no need for a completely enclosed hull and the company believed men worked better when they could have some fresh air.
Henry walked the railing at the edge, feeling the wind in his face as the warm night lay over the country. They would be in San Francisco tomorrow night. He had a week's pay coming and the food was always good there. He'd slip down to the wharves and watch the men on the sailing ships come in with their catch, buy a dozen oysters alive, and pay a street-lady to steam them in her cooking pot. He snorted laughter as Gideon came to the rail beside him.
“What's funny, Henry?” the big man asked. Being black, he was relegated to the hardest work, shoveling the coal and tending the fires.
“Thinking of dinner tomorrow. Ready to spend that week's pay already. Some good whiskey, some oysters and--”
Gideon clapped him on the back. “If you eating oysters, you gonna need a woman. Your pay's already spent, ain't it?”
Henry just nodded. “That's the funny part. I wasn't thinking about a woman. Just about how good some fresh oysters with a little salt would taste when I remembered how oysters make you want someone.”
Gideon shook his head and looked out at the stars. “No fancy food or fancy women for me. I'm putting by. I can't shovel coal forever. I'm thirty, Henry, near as I can reckon it, and my back ain't getting any less sore. I'm gonna get down on the ground, buy me a little house, find me a pretty gal to marry and lots of fat babies. Every one of them is gonna go to school and not one will shovel coal. They are gonna ride above decks, Henry, not sweat their lives away in the hold.”
“Luck to that. The way they pay us is a sin to Crockett. Gonna take you another ten years to put by enough for any of that.”
Gideon just smiled. “Got my ways, Henry, I do indeed.” He rolled and lit a cigarette and strolled off along the deck.
He never saw the grappling spear that impaled him.
2117 words on the airship pirates.
408 on Uncanny Valley
Have some steampunk. It's more fun.
The great luxury airship, Star of the Sky, cruised elegantly against the August sunset, her engines churning along, her colorful dirigible envelope full. The swells on her deck moved about in bustled summer gowns and dinner attire, sipping cocktails and chattering about sporting events, shuffleboard and whist.
Belowdecks stank of coal and burning, the hellish heat increased by occasional bursts of steam from the various boilers, the whistle breaking up the work-chants of the crew. Henry Toben mopped his face with a sweat- and oil-soaked handkerchief, stuffed it back into his overalls and checked his boiler again, bleeding off a bit of steam as it got too full. The pressure gauge had been running redline all trip and the boiler was heating too quickly.
Must have a thin spot, Henry decided. When they landed, he would check every weld and rivet and plate of it. The ship's bell clanged out eight strokes. End of the last dog watch. He was free until morning watch. When Barger came to relieve him, he pointed out the problematic pressure gauge and went up into the crew quarters.
After a wash, since the Star had running water even for the crew, he found his way to the crew's relaxation deck. Unlike a sailing ship, there was no need for a completely enclosed hull and the company believed men worked better when they could have some fresh air.
Henry walked the railing at the edge, feeling the wind in his face as the warm night lay over the country. They would be in San Francisco tomorrow night. He had a week's pay coming and the food was always good there. He'd slip down to the wharves and watch the men on the sailing ships come in with their catch, buy a dozen oysters alive, and pay a street-lady to steam them in her cooking pot. He snorted laughter as Gideon came to the rail beside him.
“What's funny, Henry?” the big man asked. Being black, he was relegated to the hardest work, shoveling the coal and tending the fires.
“Thinking of dinner tomorrow. Ready to spend that week's pay already. Some good whiskey, some oysters and--”
Gideon clapped him on the back. “If you eating oysters, you gonna need a woman. Your pay's already spent, ain't it?”
Henry just nodded. “That's the funny part. I wasn't thinking about a woman. Just about how good some fresh oysters with a little salt would taste when I remembered how oysters make you want someone.”
Gideon shook his head and looked out at the stars. “No fancy food or fancy women for me. I'm putting by. I can't shovel coal forever. I'm thirty, Henry, near as I can reckon it, and my back ain't getting any less sore. I'm gonna get down on the ground, buy me a little house, find me a pretty gal to marry and lots of fat babies. Every one of them is gonna go to school and not one will shovel coal. They are gonna ride above decks, Henry, not sweat their lives away in the hold.”
“Luck to that. The way they pay us is a sin to Crockett. Gonna take you another ten years to put by enough for any of that.”
Gideon just smiled. “Got my ways, Henry, I do indeed.” He rolled and lit a cigarette and strolled off along the deck.
He never saw the grappling spear that impaled him.
