Run Out of Steam - 1. The Escape

Lord Andrew Tillerson, a noble in the occupied Barony of Branister, walked down the long sub-basement hallway. Dressed in his officer's uniform, he walked with the authority that both his rank and bloodline accorded him. He was a regal man and stood tall with raven black hair and hazel eyes. The sub-basement was cut directly from the bedrock at the base of a mountain and supplied steam, heat, and natural gas for the lighting to the military base built on top as an outpost. The flickering lights from the hand-blown glass lanterns did a dismal job lighting the area. He passed by several openings on each side of the hallway leading to the prisoner cells.

‘Morons… they are not posting guards in the hallway, just the jail-tenders.’

He turned into the opening on the left wall at the end of the hall, into one of the small square rooms. It was barely big enough for the jailer’s desk, and the two doors behind her. With the exception an alarm spell sigil behind the desk, no adornments graced the walls.

“I’m here to see the prisoner.” Andrew produced the writ of authorization, handing it to the jailer. She was a looker, with auburn hair, dark eyes, and was very curvy.

“I’m sorry my lord, but I’m under orders not to allow anyone to see him.” She read over the writ, pausing at the signature. “I beg your pardon, my lord. I’ll let you in now.”

The jailer moved to unlock the cell door. She had turned her back to him and inserted the key.

Andrew stuck the needle into her neck and sent the quick-acting knock out drug into her system. He covered her mouth to muffle the scream with his hand. He held her to his chest while she lost consciousness, opening the cell door once she went limp.

“Alright Evan, get your ass up.” He half carried, half dragged the unconscious jailer into the cell and laid her down next to the wall, making sure she was still breathing.

Evan sat up on the bed. “It took you long enough to get here. What happened?” He trotted out of the cell, grabbing his jacket on the way. The bruises and cuts on his cheek and lip were fresh. They barely marred his fair skin but were a stark contrast to his golden blond hair, and blue eyes. The top of his head brushed Andrew’s chin as they briefly embraced.

“Well, your piece of shit airship broke down. I had to go with plan b.” He locked the door and tossed the keys on the desk while retrieving his writ. He may be one of the many rebel nobles in the uprising, an undeclared rebel, but he was not a dick and wasn’t going to leave her without a way out. “I missed you.”

“Same here. What is plan b?” Evan took the offered six-shot revolver from Andrew, and slid it into his waistband on the small of his back, under his jacket. “Let’s get out of here before they catch on.”

The pair walked down the hall, Andrew with his gun trained on Evan, making it look like he was taking the prisoner on a transfer. The pair couldn’t have been any more nervous, but it hardly showed as they walked down the corridor.

“Which way now?” Evan had stopped just inside the junction of the hallway with the prison cells, and a much larger room in the sub-basement. The lighting in the room was as bad as the hallway they came out of. The room reeked of machine oil, coal fire, and the heat from the furnaces and boiler was almost unbearable. It was littered in all manner of piping, tubes, and wires. Cogwheels were everywhere and made it a mad engineer’s wet dream.

“Turn right. At the end of the water return pipes is the mechanical lift. We’ll use that to get to the airship docks. But we have to hurry.” Andrew lifted the small pocket watch he was carrying. “We have twenty minutes to get the fuck out of here. Mind the guards at the lift.” He turned to the hallway junction and activated the blast-doors delayed lockdown for ten minutes.

“I thought you said my airship broke down? Also, you still haven’t said what plan b is?”

“It did. It ran out of steam, and the hot air bladders started to go cold. The propulsion went offline.” There was a slight chuckle in his voice. “Someone forgot to remind me to check the water tank before I came after him.”

“Please tell me you didn’t crash her?”

“Of course not. I managed to land her safely at the docks near the capital. The Mayfield was in port, and I got it towed here.” They were quickly moving past the central steam-works and made it to the lifts. The guards stood at their approach.

“Halt. Prisoners are not allowed on the lifts.” The guard on the left blocked their way, while the one on the right sat with a bored look on his face.

“I really don’t have time for this.” Andrew handed him the writ of authorization. “Now, you will let us pass, and then you will forget about ever seeing us.”

“Where are you taking him, Lord Tillerson?” The guard handed back the writ and snapped to attention.

“This rebel scum has some information I need. He is being transferred to the interrogation chambers on the Mayfield.”

“Indeed sir.” They stepped out of the way, and let Andrew and Evan board the mechanical lift. “Do you need an escort?”

“No… I think I can manhandle him just fine.” He shut the outer and inner lift doors and grabbed the control handle. He flicked it to the on position and then threw the directional leaver to take the lift up. The mechanical gears, twirled as they lift off the ground, and started to rise at a steady pace up the shaft. The cables were creaking and groaning, as they pulled away to freedom. Andrew put the gun away, secure in the knowledge that the guards couldn’t get to them. For now.

“What is on that paper anyway?” He took the writ when Andrew handed it over. An astonished look crossed his face. “How in the hell did you get the king’s authorization?”

“As I said, I had to go with plan b.” He coughed some. “King Maxwell’s personal airship was in the same dock where I had to make an emergency landing. So, of course, I had to make an appearance. I told King Maxwell I needed the writ because Sir Isaac had a high-value prisoner I had been tracking for weeks. I needed information from him for project insight. He agreed, but on one condition.”

“Well, what was it?”

“I had to give the King, some oral satisfaction. He’s always made allusions to the affect, and he finally cornered me into giving him what he wanted. Maxwell wanted me to sleep with him too, but I said no. I didn’t have time, because I had to get the prisoner before Isaac did something.”

“So, you called it plan b for the blowjob? I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to cause you any problems.”

“Look, my love. Not everyone can say they pleasured the King. Nor can they say they poisoned him as well. He’ll be dead in a week.”

“You didn’t? How?”

Andrew nodded his head. “I shoved the tablet up inside his rectum when I was exploring his back passage. He never had anyone play with his man spot before.”

Evan was stunned speechless.

“I had to do it, Evan my love. I saw the opportunity and took the chance. After we get this petty dictator off the throne, we can then get our country back. I just hope you can forgive me, for having relations with another man.”

“Oh, I can and do forgive you, Andrew. I just think it was good timing for the Sparrowhawk to ran out of steam for you.”

“Indeed.”

The lift ride up the shaft to the air docks took fifteen minutes. Dawn was slowly lighting up the sky when the lift arrived at its destination. The airship docks were a massive affair. Easily the top three floors of the building and many flexible tubes and cables littered the ground in neat piles. Only two airships were in port. The small Sparrowhawk, and the larger Mayfield.

They looked like warships one would see sailing upon the sea, but links and connects to many-chambered hot air bladders which kept them aloft. The smaller ship was the size of a personal yacht, while the larger one was the size of a War Galleon. For propulsion, large fan turbines were connected that could pivot and tilt. With the right combination of turbines and warm air release, the ships could move in three-dimensions and were very quick to do so.

“We don’t have much time. Make your way to your airship, and don’t stop.”

They passed several guards without being stopped, with the Guard Captain nodding as the pair walked by. They wore the mark of House Tillerson, the same flag that flew from the Mayfield. As they approached the small dirigible airship, a mechanic was stepping off.

“It’s all set, my lord. Freshwater and supplies have been loaded up. She’s been refilled with steam in the engines, and hot air in the lift bladders.”

“Good. Tell the Captain Lord Tillerson sends his thanks… and for all of you to get the fuck out of here. Take the Mayfield, and head east.”

“Aye, my lord.” The mechanic ran off as ordered.

As Evan and Andrew entered the small airship, the guards evacuated the air dock and boarded the only other airship. Soon, the Mayfield was launched and headed east.

“There’s enough water, and supplies here for a couple of weeks. Where are we headed?”

“Stormpeak and then back into the war... after the King is dead. Archduke Listarian is going to get his ass kicked. No one invades our country and plants a King on our throne. Especially someone that murdered his own sons, just for being married.”

As Evan’s airship launched and headed northwest, a series of explosions went off in the building below. The airship docks exploded in a gust of steam, fire, and smoke, that traveled up the shaft as the main fuel line ruptured in the basement.

Evan pulled Andrew into an embrace, and the two men kissed deeply, silhouetted by the fire in the background.

The End.