Volume Eight
Chapter
Four
Heart of the Lady
Heart of the Lady
In which Dodger learns what makes the
Sleipnir tick
The
doc rummaged around on his desk until he found his pair of SPICS. After placing
them on his face and readjusting the SAW, he laced his hands over his ample
belly, leaned back on his stool and took a long look at Dodger and Boon.
Meanwhile,
Lelanea rose from her seat to check both doors of the cabin, making sure they
were tightly shut and drawing deep breaths at each potential entryway. If
Dodger didn’t know better, he would say she was sniffing the place out. Once
her assessment was done, she turned to her uncle and nodded.
“All
clear,” she said.
“Mr.
Dodger,” the doc said.
“Sir?”
Dodger asked.
“Washington
Boon,” the doc said.
“Sir?”
Boon asked.
The
doc pointed to each of them in turn. “What I am about to tell you both is to
remain here. It is imperative that you do not share this information with
another living soul.” He considered this for a moment, then added, “Or not-living
soul. Do I have your word as gentlemen?”
“Yes,
sir,” Dodger and Boon said together.
“Good.
Excellent. I know I can trust you both, and would’ve told you far before now,
but … well, Boon never displayed an interest, and we just haven’t had the
proper time to talk, Mr. Dodger.”
“Things
have been a bit hectic,” Dodger said.
“Yes.
They have. Now, where was I?” The doc tapped his chin a moment, then asked, “What
do either of you know of thermodynamics?”
“I’ve
read a bit on it,” Dodger admitted. “Here and there.”
“I
see. Boon?”
“Nothing,”
Boon said. “But don’t let that stop you. I’ll try to keep up.”
“Do
try. Dodger, have you read enough to understand the basic idea behind the ICE
machine?”
“I
haven’t seen it in action,” Dodger said, “but from what I have heard, I would guess
it pulls heat away from a source, freezing the source in the process.”
“Close
enough.”
“How?
I didn’t think heat could flow from a cold source to a hotter source.”
Boon
gave a soft but audible huff.
Dodger
winced. Damn his curiosity and eager tongue for getting the better of him.
“Read
a bit here and there indeed,” the doc said. “You should be in university, you
should. Not putting yourself in the line of fire. You realize that, don’t you?”
“Thanks
for that, sir,” Dodger said, “but really, I’m happy doing what I do. I’d never
be any good cooped up in a laboratory all day. I don’t know how you do it.”
“Yes,
well, I don’t know how I do it sometimes either.”
“I
don’t mean to seem like an idiot,” Boon said, “but I don’t have any idea what y’all
are talking about.”
“You
are not an idiot,” the doc said. “It is a relatively new branch of science.”
“Thermodynamics
is all about the distribution of heat,” Lelanea said. “One of the most
important principals of thermodynamics is that heat cannot spontaneously flow
from a cold location to a hotter one. Because of natural entropy, temperatures
will even out between objects of varying degrees. For example, ice will melt in
a glass of water until the water has achieved a common temperature, usually
that of the surrounding air itself.”
The
doc jumped in to explain, “Spontaneity is the key here. Heat cannot
spontaneously flow from a colder source. The ICE machine, however, forces the
heat away, almost as if sucking it out of the source, lowering the core
temperature of the source material in the process. You see?”
“I
reckon it makes sense,” Boon said. “But, and I hope this don’t sound as stupid
as it does in my head, where does the heat go?”
“That
is not stupid at all, Boon. It’s a very clever question.”
“As
the ICE machine removes heat from one source,” Lelanea said, “it passes that
heat into another. The original design shunted the heat into the ground via a contact
cable.”
“Looking
back on it,” the doc said, “I suppose it was another reason those poor folks
became so upset with me. As I said, the machine froze everything above ground,
and scorched everything below. What was I thinking?”
“You
were thinking it was what they wanted,” Lelanea reminded him.
“I
suppose so. I don’t know how the Utes are dealing with the output of their
current operation, but I’ll admit I am a tad eager to find out.”
“Can
I also venture, sir,” Boon said, “that this hot and cold stuff has something to
do with the Sleipnir’s engine?”
“Why,
yes it does. You’re cleverer than you think, my friend. You always were. And
still are. Oh, you know what I mean.”
“Yes,
sir,” Boon said with a grin.
“As
you suggested, the ICE machine is a smaller, much simpler version of the
Sleipnir’s heart, a High-Temperature Superconductive Thermal-Voltaic Mass.”
Dodger
caught the meaning of some of it, but not all. He glanced at Boon, who looked
as though the doc had begun babbling in a completely different language. “Remember
the belt that keeps Duncan
the right size?”
“Yeah,”
Boon said. “You said it worked by transferring sunlight into energy.”
“This
is a lot like that. Only instead of just light, the Sleipnir transforms heat
into energy. Is that right, Doc?”
“Correct,”
the professor said. “The engine pulls heat from an input source, and, through a
series of transformers, it turns some of it into electricity, which operates
the lights and Mr. Torque and so forth, while it passes the rest of the heat
into the boilers, which in turn creates the steam that runs the locomotion.
Easy as that.”
“I
wouldn’t say it was easy,” Dodger said, “but I will say it certainly is
brilliant. I knew we weren’t running on coal, though you did a heck of a job
trying to make it seem that way.”
“I
find that a layer of coal dust here and there feeds the curious mind.”
“It
sure does,” Boon said. “You fooled the heck out of me.”
“And
me,” Dodger said. “I can understand why Rex wants the line so badly now.”
“Yes.
The potential applications for such a thing are astronomical.”
“Just
the weapons alone you could create with it boggle the mind,” Boon added.
“Weapons?”
the doc asked. He patted his hands together. “Oh, deary me. I forgot about such
things.”
Dodger
shook his head at the naivety of the man. Trust the doc to forget that something
so fantastic could be employed to harm folks. “Do you mind if I ask what you
use for an input source?”
Before
the doc could answer, Lelanea coughed, almost too loudly. “I hate to interrupt,
but you did tell Jones that you would be right behind him. We don’t want to
leave him with the impression that you aren’t coming at all. Do we?”
The
doc slumped in his seat again. “Of course not.”
“Ched
should be back with the Rhino at any moment.”
“I
suppose we must go and deal with those poor creatures,” the doc said. He turned
to his niece and said, in almost a whisper, “I recommend that you remain here.
Feng is probably ready for a break from his watch over that young lady, and you
know how the natives feel about you.”
“I
don’t mind,” Lelanea said. “Perhaps Boon and I can set up the portable forge
and cast some ammo while you two deal with this issue?”
Boon
jawed the air for a moment as if shocked by the suggestion. “Well, I would love
to, but I, um, I think Dodger needs me.”
Lelanea
stared at the spirit, but made no retort.
The
tension between the pair was hot enough to cast ammo all on its own. Dodger
couldn’t fault the spirit for wanting to stretch his legs after remaining
aboard for the last few days. Nor could he blame Lelanea for wanting some
quality time with her long-lost lover. Someone had to step in and take a side.
Otherwise, the two would spend the next hour staring one another down, daring
the other to speak first.
“He
needs ammunition more than a partner right now,” Feng said, shattering the
quiet moment with an unexpected entrance.
Where
the man had appeared merely tired before, Feng was now well past the point of
exhaustion. He trembled in his stance, leaning against the doorframe as if it
were the only thing keeping his thin body tethered to the earth. Nonetheless,
he grinned, happy as always.
“Lelanea,
come help an old man,” Feng said as he waved her over.
She
rushed to his side, helping to guide him into the laboratory cab and onto one
of the benches.
“Are
you all right?” Boon asked.
“Me?”
Feng asked. “Sure. Never better.”
“You
don’t look better. You look on Ched’s side of things.”
Dodger
was thinking the same thing. Feng looked like a man who’d run his last mile, eaten
his last meal, and danced his last dance. A man sorely in need of a dirt nap.
In other words, he looked like he was ready to go six feet deep, and not come
back up for air.
“He’ll
be fine,” the doc said. “It comes from being such an old fart.”
“Takes
one to know one,” Feng said.
The
pair laughed.
Dodger
noticed that, despite the laughter, the doc patted his hands together again in
that nervous way that suggested there was far more going on here than either
man was letting on.
“Besides,
Boon,” Feng said, “I told you to stay close to the train until we know exactly
where your body is.”
“I
know,” Boon whined. “I’ve never felt so cooped up in all my existence.”
“Then
get out for a bit.”
The
spirit gasped. “Can I?”
“Sure.
I said stay close, not stay aboard. Lelanea had a good idea. You and she should
set up the portable forge and work up some ammo.”
“Are
you sure?” Lelanea asked. “I can take over watching Sarah if you need-”
“Naw,”
Feng said. “I’ll be okay. And that kid is sleeping like a rock. I don’t think
she’ll be up anytime soon. I will say that the faster we get this done and get
on our way, the better things will be all around.”
“I
reckon that means we should get a move on,” Dodger said.
“And
I reckon it’s my turn for an adventure with Mr. Dodger,” the doc said with an
excited clap.
Dodger
shook his head with a chuckle at the doc’s words. The slang sounded like a
foreign word when the doc said it. Even when the man tried to speak lazy, he
sounded like he was giving a lecture.
“I
think not,” Lelanea said. “No adventures. I forbid it.”
“Don’t
be like that. It’s my turn. You had one, and Feng had one and even Ched had
one. I want an adventure.”
“Whosh
havin’ an adventure?” Ched asked as he stepped into the cab.
“We
are,” the doc said.
“Adventure,
eh?” Ched sucked a breath through his teeth, weighing the idea. “Shoundsh
borin’. I’d rather shtay here, if you don’t mind.”
“You’ll
come with us and like it.”
“I’ll
come, but I can’t promish anything more than a vague interesht.”
“That
is settled, then. Lelanea, help me find the other boxes so we can get this over
with.”
“Come
on Ched,” Dodger said. “Let’s get ready to head back.”
Lelanea
caught Dodger’s attention before he made it to the door. “Keep an eye on Uncle. You know he gets into trouble so easily.”
“I
promise I’ll do my best,” Dodger said. He took one last look at Feng, relaxed
on the bench with his eyes closed. Dodger whispered, “Will he be all right?”
“He’ll
be fine,” Feng said. “Now get out of here. Those beefalo need your help.”
“Buffalo,” Dodger
corrected him.
“Tomato,
tomahto.” Feng raised a thin arm and waved at Dodger. “Go away. You have an
adventure to chase down.”
Dodger
gave Lelanea a wink before he set out to find that supposed adventure.
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