For Forty Weeks the Sunbird Flew: An Airman's Tale

Chapter 11: The Thirteenth Week

The next leg of their journey was surprisingly uneventful, all things considered. Well, uneventful when compared to the mess that the previous leg of the journey had been. Two near-death experiences and a mutiny in the span of a week felt less like bad luck and more like fate was toying with him, fickle thing that it was. Nonetheless, the crew had been able to get them through to Three-Streams without delay, and for that he was thankful.

Lawrence might have been new to leading such a large body of people, but thankfully his decades spent alongside the various captains that had piloted this old vessel seemed to have imparted him with at least rudimentary knowledge of the duties that came with his new position. Archer knew for a fact that the man felt out of his depth, but hey, he'd learn. It was the same thing the man had said to Archer when he'd first boarded the Sunbird, a day which now felt like years ago despite being three months to the day. God, three months. Twelve weeks and already he felt as though he'd always been aboard this ship, always lived amongst the skies. He chuckled to himself at that slightly dramatic thought. What would his father say if he could have heard that?

Well, Archer thought to himself with a fond smile as he looked at the underside of a boiler, he'd probably tell me to get back on with my bloody work for a start. Given that Lawrence was now the captain one might have expected him to have far less time for maintenance and repairs, but woe betide any man foolish enough to come between the engineer and his ship. No, he'd simply told the First Mate to see them safely to Three-Streams and to alert him if any threat to the ship was sighted, then left the man to get on with bringing the Sunbird to port. For sure, Lawrence spent maybe an hour or two of his workday actually piloting the ship, but most of the time he was down under grimy engines or inspecting rusted walkways just like he always had been. If it weren't for the markedly slower pace that the old bird was flying at Archer figured he might not have known there had been a mutiny at all. Well, assuming he hadn't been present for it either, obviously.

Still, even though Lawrence may have still been with him for the majority of his workday, the man had still entrusted Archer to a few of the more 'technical' tasks that neither of them would have dreamed of allowing him to perform only a couple of months ago. Nothing extremely dangerous or difficult, and usually with Lawrence's supervision, but he was learning nonetheless. It was a thought that sent a warmth through him, the knowledge that his friend had entrusted him to see to the maintenance and repair of his home, not just his ship, for to Lawrence the Sunbird was as close to a home as he had ever known. It was a mark of trust, even if the man hadn't said any words along those lines. Pondering on the matter a little led Archer to decide that Lawrence would almost definitely get along well with father. Well, perhaps a little too well, come to think of it; even mother would be hard pressed to drag the two of them from the garage or the maintenance shed if they bonded over their mutual appreciation for mundane mechanical work. Hell, before his contract was up, maybe Archer himself would be just as enthralled by the mechanical. God, mother was going to be so disappointed to find out that he'd be just as insufferable as father was when talking about sprockets and screws. Who knew he'd end up not only learning from his work, but enjoying it as well?

"Archer?"

"A moment, if you please."

He tightened the last of the screws into place and slid himself out from beneath the boiler, well aware that his face was probably caked in grime, sweat, and soot. Before him stood Michael, a little anxiety written on his face but nothing like those days after he'd killed his first man. Archer was glad that he was getting a little better. As of right now the man's nerves seemed to alleviate, probably since the marine was likely too distracted by the state of the face in front of him.