There was a steady stream of men working up and down three gangplanks, and a steam-powered hoist was swinging netted boxes of cargo into the bright morning air. A sign pointing to a fourth walkway read Tickets.
Ryan walked onto the boat, feeling the spring of the gangplank under his boots.
Away on the far side of the river, in the round tower, the sun glinted off the telescope as it moved lazily around to focus on the Golden Eagle .
A stocky, bare-headed man in a dark blue pea jacket, a line of gold braid on his cuffs, was leaning against the iron rail, smoking a black cheroot. “Morning,” he grunted. “Booking on with us for tomorrow?”
Ryan nodded. “Yeah. Where do I go?”
“Along to the second companionway. White door, number 7 on the right. Along the passage and down the first stairs. See a green door on your left. Purser, it says. In there. You’re good and early, mister.”
“Heard you get busy.”
The man spit into the river. ” Golden Eagle’s always busy. She’s the best. What’s your business? Don’t look like a car man. Goin’ up river to hunt the stickies?”
“Just for pleasure. Me and five friends. What’s the word on the stickies?”
“There’s mines and plantations up-water. Rumor has it that the fat man’s involved.”
“Wolfram?”
“They say.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Say the Magus is with him. But nobody ever seen them in the flesh. Just whispering and shadows.”
Ryan nodded. “What always happens with them. And they got trouble with stickies?”
“Lot of breakouts. Killings. Difficult to keep them working, even chained. Muties like that got no regard for their lives. Makes it tough to hold them under.”
“I heard that.” A couple of young women, wearing too much makeup, pushed past him with a wink and a grin at the officer, who returned their greeting. They went along in the direction that the man had indicated for purchasing tickets.
“Regulars aboard?” Ryan asked.
“Dolly and her sister, Jolyanne. Kind of hardworking girls, if you take my meaning.”
Ryan nodded. “Sure do. Well, best get my cabins booked. See you around.”
The purser was only about fifteen, making a valiant effort to grow a beard, which led to his being ruthlessly teased by the pair of whores.
“Why try and cultivate those straggly little hairs, sonny, when they grow wild around your ass?”
The lad blushed ferociously.
One of the women noticed Ryan and nudged him. “Fancy a cabin-share, honey? Bunk up together all the way to Crosstown. Show us some generous jack, and you could have me and my sister together. Just to yourself. Best deal in Twin Forks.”
“Already got me some company, ladies, but thanks for the offer.”
The Trader used to say you should always be polite to waiters and whores.
After they’d gone, Ryan made his bookings, taking the recommended top-deck berths, near the stern on the starboard side. He reserved a row of three interconnected outside doubles, handing over more jack then he’d anticipated.
“Cabins don’t come cheap on the Golden Eagle .”
“Nothing does, sir. Here you are. Two meals a day included. Liquor’s extra. Your tickets. Sails at dawn. That’ll be around six tomorrow morning. Don’t be late. Get your baggage aboard today if you can. The Golden Eagle doesn’t wait for nobody.”
THEY PASSED THE DAY quietly wandering around the ville, finishing up with a much cheaper meal at Toby’s and retiring early.
Jak slept badly that night, with dark dreams of a mob of stickies pursuing him through dank caverns.
The captain of the Golden Eagle had a pair of unexpected and deeply unwelcome visitors at two in the morning, though sufficient jack changed hands for him to smother what remained of his conscience.
Chapter Thirteen
They ate a fast breakfast, with the windows of the dining room in the Grits and Greetings reflecting their own faces against the darkness outside. Despite the early hour, they were offered a full fry-up with eggs, bacon, ham, grits, hash browns, toast and coffee sub.
Ryan settled their final bill, and they gathered their weapons and clothes and set off into the cool morning. The sky was just beginning to lighten with the false dawn, and the streets and alleys were thronged with fellow passengers, all making their way out onto the quay to join the long lines at the gangways. In the gloom the brightly lit boat seemed even bigger.