Bellyache

Sirens wailed and Jesse almost fell down the few metal steps into the engine room in his hurry to reach the stricken machine. Red light bathed the room and strobed over the brass and steel in steady flashes. Jesse ran to the pressure gages, watching the little black needle tap against the edge as it fought to read numbers that didn’t exist. Punching buttons, the mechanic tried to release the steam feeds but the lights on the control board just winked at him in frantic red and green. He ducked under a bunch of rattling brass banded pipes and fought his way around to the main engine compartment. He swore as boiling water dripped down from the ceiling, but the scald scars would only join the collection that already littered his hands and upper arms. Steam filled the small compartment making it as hot and clammy as a sauna. Water clung to his short blonde hair and stuck his shirt to his back like a second skin. Blinking water out of his eyes he ran his hands lightly over the hot pipes, tracing the coolant leads as a glowing blue schematic of the ship’s engine flickered to life behind his eyes, scrolling information on his retina and into his brain. Not that he really needed it; his fingers hovered over the metal following a path they knew by heart as well as by cortical searing. The corrugated silver and bronze pipes shone in the red light, water condensing and then coiling off again as steam in a matter of seconds.

          A high pitched whistle slowly grew in volume like a kettle on a stove. The noise filled Jesse’s ears and his heart did a somersault against his ribs. If he didn’t find a way to vent the pressure the engine would go into critical overload and the Temperance wouldn’t be in the sky much longer. Squeezing past a bank of regulators he reached the primary combustion drive, the rotor spinning at an uncontrollable speed, its gears clicking against each other like a manic clock. It looked like a massive spinning top laid on its side, both ends held in place by a long thick pole that ran the length of the room. Heaving in lungfuls of heated air, Jesse wiped his sweaty hands on his blue coveralls and tried to think. If he severed the pipes then the whole lower deck would be flooded with boiling water. If he didn’t the rotor would detach and the back end of the ship would be ripped apart by flying metal and rivets. Either way he didn’t plan on going out that way.  An image of Sarah flickered over his eyes as his memory coils whirled through possible solutions. He would not die without seeing her again and he’d fight Hades’ cold embrace with everything he had to keep it that way. Bringing his attention back to the present situation a balance tube exploded on his right, the little red ball that floated in it zipping past his head with enough force to punch through the outer hull.
         ‘Apollo’s arse’ he cursed, watching steam fly towards the hole and be sucked out in a swirling funnel of atmo breach. An idea flared to life in his mind and he wouldn’t have been surprised if a lector bulb didn’t appear over his head. Flipping the stream release switch he ran back to the outer compartment, his legs heavy and the soles of his boots tacky as they started to melt into the metal deck. Slamming the outer door, he shook his soaked hair and stared at the release lever. If he didn’t get the emergency doors closed in time after he vented the steam he’d freeze to death in the void.
           And to think I said this job would be a piece of pie.
                The Temperance groaned like a wounded leviathan and the deck tilted sharply, spilling Jesse to his knees. He grabbed a railing to stop himself from sliding into a wall and hauled himself to his feet as he felt the ship complaining to him through the neural interface at the base of his skull. She didn’t want to die and she had one hell of a bellyache.
           ‘Alright, alright old girl, I’m working on it.’ He muttered to the collection of bolts and steel plating that housed his second love. The deck dipped as the ship lost another few metres of altitude and Jesse’s stomach seemed to drop to the floor and bounce back again. Grabbing the lever he leant on it, his melted boots sliding as he tried to move it. He strained, his forearms bulging with the effort but it wouldn’t move. Spouting expletives even his father would be ashamed of Jesse stepped back and kicked the lever. It wobbled and twitched under his onslaught but remained stubbornly upright. He kicked it again, panic rising up his throat in a scalding wave even as the steam that was filling the room with a white fog tried to crawl down it.
          ‘Why.Won’t.You. Move!’ he yelled, each word punctuated by a strike that vibrated up his leg. Angrily he booted the metal and with a screech of protest it snapped against the deck, releasing the doors. The void opened up before him and tried to swallow him greedily. Steam whipped out with a howl, white going out to meet the blackness of ozone. Jesse held onto the lever, the wind from the escaping atmosphere tugging at his clothes and freezing the water and sweat to his body. After a few moments the red flashing stopped and the normal lector lights flickered to life. Pulling back, he braced his legs against the levers base and wrenched it back in place, the rusted emergency doors sliding closed with an echoing clang. Gasping, Jesse lay on his back as oxygen flooded back into the engine room. He brushed a hand over his face and rubbed the ice out of his eyebrows, his coveralls equally covered in tiny sparkling ice crystals. Muscles protesting he rolled to his knees and slammed his hand down on a large black button. The rotating gears instantly slowed, hissing and moaning as they spun down into stillness. The back-up engine would sustain life support and the lights until he could figure out what had gone wrong with the main. He leant against the panel and sighed into the dials and switches.
         ‘Piece of cake.’

The door rolled open and Jesse craned his head around to see the Captain stood in the gangway, an amused expression on his dark face.
         ‘Wanna tell me what in the name of Olympus just happened to my ship?’
         ‘Just a little hiccup Sir.’
Captain Sutton stepped down onto the second tier to get a better look at the engine room, his black pirate coat brushing the floor. The clockwork mechanism in his chest that kept him alive ticked loudly in the silence. Cold and methodical just like the man.
        ‘Well get her fixed, we’ve got to drop this Nitro and then we’re off. Things to do. People to con, places to rob y'know.’