Small winding hallways closed around him, like the ship's innards had been drawn by a three year old with a purple crayon, and the acrid stench of leaking gas was trapped within its confines. The wave of nausea that hit him was not improved by the fact that the entire structure slanted so that the floors were never level. When they stopped in front of a plain metal door he almost felt relieved.
He might have made some noise of protest, dripping wet and half wild but the pirate gave him little notice, muttering something about an emergency. He'd barely stepped foot in the room before the door slammed shut behind him. He waited for the man's heavy footsteps to recede before trying the knob.
Locked--of course. He'd had to try it at least. Sighing, he turned around to take a look at the room. It was better lit than most of the zeppelin, and oddly enough, wires and schematics and all manners of odd devices that even he could hardly identify were strewn about on every surface, including the floor, though he suspected that had more to do with the crash landing than anything else. As his eyes scanned for something that would make a useful lock-picking tool, they landed on something even more startling.
Off in a corner was a hunched figure, so still that he almost mistook it for a doll. Leo took a few steps toward the person before his head whipped around lightening fast. "You weren't there before," he stated.
"Erm, well no, I wasn't. Didn't you hear me come in?"
He didn't respond to that, just kept watching the boy with strange owlish silver eyes.
"Why are you here?" Leo asked, hoping he could gain some insight as to why he was sharing a room on a bloody pirate ship.
The strange man continued to stare, before finally asking "Gold or tungsten?"
"What?"
"Gold or tungsten?"
"For what?" Leo asked, bewildered.
"A gyroscopic telecommunicator," The madman replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
To be fair, he had absolutely no idea what a gyroscopic telecommunicator was, but gold is a dreadful building material almost regardless of what you're making so he answered, "Tungsten."
The madman hummed contentedly, "Finally, finally, most of these fools don't understand, not the right specific heat capacity you see. You'll do, you'll do indeed," He murmured before turning back to hunch over whatever it was he was working on.
"People keep telling me that," Leo muttered as he turned away, looking once again for a suitable object with which to pick the lock. He could wonder why a group of pirates had a crazy inventor on-board after he got off the godforsaken ship. He didn't know what he was going to do or where he would go or- It didn't matter, he just had to get out of that room.
With so many spare parts lying about it wasn't difficult to locate a suitable wire. Luckily he was no stranger to picking locks. It was one skill that never let him down, even if he wasn't particularly proud of it. He had to will his hands to stop trembling, but it wasn't long before the magical sound of the final barrel clicking into place graced his ears.
Gently he twisted the doorknob that would lead to freedom. That was when he discovered that it was dead-bolted from the other side. Suddenly standing seemed like too much of a task and he sunk down onto a threadbare chair, face buried in his hands. Kidnapped by pirates: it sounded like some ridiculous fantasy one of his brothers had concocted.
Of course it had been stupid. It wouldn't have done him any good it the door had opened. He'd just needed to keep himself occupied. All at once the last dregs of adrenaline had emptied from his system. The terror and exhaustion he'd been trying to hold at bay washed over him in waves. A few minutes passed, Leo sitting curled up quietly and the madman occasionally muttering to himself, before a jolt caused him to tumble from his perch.
He imagined the scene outside. Her Majesty's fleet of specialized ornithopters flying about; their metal alloy wings flapping madly against the storm to catch up with the behemoth and their mounted automatic weapons fully loaded with anti-airship rounds, emptying a barrage of bullets into the fragile skin, tearing the fabric back until one finally lit a spark in just the right place. The flammable hydrogen would combust all at once, sending the Zeppelin rocketing out of the sky in a breathtaking ball of flame. For once he sorely wished he had a less vivid imagination.
A few minutes passed and he was, surprisingly, still alive when the door to the room swung open. Once again Matthew entered, "I see you've managed to pick the lock," he said, not sounding terribly surprised.
Leo chose to glare at him silently, though he probably looked more like a kicked puppy than anything else.
"This way." The pirate pointed out towards the hallway, his voice leaving little room to argue.
He was tempted to refuse, just to see what would happen, but he was curious by nature and Mr. Crazy wasn't exactly brimming with answers.
Quietly he rose, noting that the man made no move to restrain him. It would have been stupid to run, no where to go thousands of feet up surrounded by the enemy, not to mention that his captor would have little trouble catching- or killing him for that matter. At least they didn't think he was a fool.
There was still constant activity, but the frantic atmosphere had settled down. He received quite a few more curious stares. It would seem that newcomers weren't all that common. He couldn't decide if that was a good thing or not.
They walked for a few minutes in silence before he had to ask at least one of the many questions that were bouncing around in his skull. "How did you get away from the city?"
His captor glanced towards him once as if he had said something incredibly stupid and replied, " If you were wondering about London's lovely defenses, than those military bastards are keeping them busy for us or rather, they're keeping those military bastards busy for us."
"So those other Zeppelins were chasing you!" He exclaimed.
"Well yes, it would appear so." The man replied with a mocking grin.
Annoyed by his superior manner, Leo bit his tongue.
He didn't have to wait long as he was lead to another door, one identical to the one outside the inventor's room, minus the deadbolt. It opened inward to reveal a far more spacious area with a wall of glass windows--the control room if he had to guess. A woman waited by a table in the center of the room, Tall and imposing with sharp features and hawk-like eyes, it was easy to see from the way everyone in the room revolved around her that she was in charge.
As the door behind them slammed closed all eyes turned to them. He had always been an outsider, someone who chose to stay on the fringes of civilized society. Being the center of attention was not a position he was familiar with, and it would have been a stretch to consider his company civilized.
"Thank you, Matthew," The woman nodded at his captor. She took a few steps closer, revealing that she was a good head taller than him. " I am Captain Diana Riker and I'm sure you're wondering why you're here, Mr-?"
"Calloway," He stammered. "Leo Calloway."
Riker smiled, an icy mask of calm gracing her features. "Well then, Mr. Calloway, would you take a look at this?"
Another crew member came and laid out a long piece of parchment on the wooden tabletop. On impulse he walked forward. He was instantly captivated. It was a humanoid automaton, one with a clockwork skeleton. Building one had become a pet project of his for years, but his had never been anywhere near so complex. It was going to be a dancer, if he lived long enough to complete it, but looking at the intricate schematic before him he couldn't even begin to guess its function.
"What is this for?" He had to ask, unable to hide the wonder from his voice.
"You can't tell?" She replied sharply.
Suddenly Leo felt his stomach drop again, "It would take me days to figure out the purpose of a simple automaton," He managed to say without his voice cracking, "I would have to determine which parts move and in what exact order. With something this complicated--I'm just not sure." he waited, muscles tense.
"It seems you are familiar with the technology then." It was a statement of approval.
Leo nodded in relief and looked back at the schematic. It was entrancing in its own right, impossibly complicated but having a streamlined elegance that was often thrown aside for the sake of functionality. He could have stood there and studied it for hours despite being surrounded by pirates. "Who made this?" he questioned.
"I believe you have already had the pleasure of meeting Dr. Lazarus Reiner," The captain replied.
He almost groaned aloud thinking of the madman he'd just left behind. A great mind did once say that there is a fine line between brilliance and madness.
"You see," Riker began, leaning forward in such a manner that she towered over her unwilling passenger, "We're after something that Reiner's made, and it's hidden in a place where he built all the defenses for it. He's willing to give us a hand as long as we leave him alone with his gears and ideas most of the time, but no one here can understand a bloody thing he says. That's where you come in."
Worry once again creased the boys brow. "I'm afraid to say that I couldn't understand everything he said either."
"I don't need everything, I need to know how to get past the city's defenses. If you can do that, then we'll let you off at the nearest port with something for your trouble. If you can't, then I'll just let you off right now. So for your sake, I'm sure you can figure it out."
His blood ran cold of the thought of the thousand-foot plummet back to earth and it was all he could do to nod his head weakly. Another glance at the table gave him the courage to speak. "This machine, what does it do? What am I helping you steal?"
At that the Captain's lips curled into a challenge. "Why don't you figure it out yourself?" She straightened her back, looking at the rest of her men who were watching our exchange with rapt attention. "Everyone get back to your duties. Matthew, you're in charge of Mr. Calloway until the end of this venture."
He was not addressed again so hesitantly Leo reached to roll up the schematic, taking the Captain's challenge as permission to do so. When no one tried to stop him he sighed in relief just as his captor, whom he now knew was named Matthew, beckoned him to follow. Looking around he noted Matthew was one of the youngest present, maybe in his twenties. That was probably why he'd been saddled with him.
Leo left without complaint, knowing it would be useless, but mentally he berated himself for not putting up a fight. If he had been John he would have gone kicking and screaming every step of the way; at the very least he should have said something about how he didn't appreciate being kidnapped, how they had no right to force him to work for them. Anytime the words bubbled up, fear suppressed them. His only consolation for that particular weakness was that if they believed he was weak and complacent they would be less careful, less guarded, and perhaps eventually if he kept vigilant he would find an opportunity to escape.
He scanned the corridors as they walked, committing each detail to memory when a hand clapped his shoulder causing him to stumble. Matthew was once again wearing that intolerable smirk. "Lighten up a bit, you look like I just killed your favorite dog."
In return Leo scowled. "I'm sorry, was there something I'm supposed to be happy about?"
The man twisted his arm so they were facing each other. "No, but we're going to be seeing quite a bit of each other over the next couple weeks and I'll end up as crazy as our old friend Reiner if you're moody all the time."
"Thanks for the consideration," Leo snapped, pulling his arm away.
Matthew's expression softened almost imperceptibly. "Hey, we're not so bad once you get to know us, and if it makes you feel any better I don't think that Riker would actually throw you overboard. Well, that last bit was a lie but you'd have to make her pretty mad first."
Leo snorted in response and started walking again, but the silence between us was no longer quite so hostile. By the time they reached the room that he shared he managed a quick glance at the deadbolt before the lock clicked in place behind him. No lock was impossible to pick.