Iron Seas 03 - Riveted

saved you after the earthquake on Tzapotépetl? I’d say it was my hand that pulled you out of that crevice.”
    “It was me with the sense to reach for your hand, wasn’t it?”
    David conceded with a grin. The man could talk his way around almost anything. Bolstered by his victory, Dooley lifted his hat back into place and winked at Goltzius when the young botanist joined them.
    “As Kentewess was so quick to abandon us while the steamcoach was loaded, I say we ride up top to share a bottle and leave him to watch the unloading.”
    Goltzius’s only response was an open, good-natured smile—a diplomatic response, to David’s mind. As the newest member of their team, joining David and Dooley after only a week’s acquaintance, Goltzius hadn’t yet known them long enough to participate in the back-and-forth of a friendly ragging, let alone take sides. David thought that camaraderie would come, eventually. Goltzius had been a good fit so far, bright and determined, and weathering without complaint the delays in securing supplies and the cramped accommodations aboard the airship from Johannesland to Castile.
    If such trivialities had frustrated the botanist, no doubt this expedition would have been hell for him—for all of them. David had once spent six months in the company of a linguist who’dwhined over every insect bite. By the end of it, he could have cheerfully strangled the man—and he’d have strangled him with his right hand, just to prolong the pleasure of it.
    He hoped Goltzius wouldn’t arouse the same murderous compulsions. As it was, his addition to the team had already aroused a few, though Goltzius wasn’t to blame for them. Politics were.
    When David and Dooley had proposed this nine-month survey to the Scientific Society of New Leiden, they’d picked botanist Mary Longcreek to accompany them. Experienced, dedicated, and familiar with plant growth recovery following volcanic eruptions, she’d been the ideal choice for their team. The previous week, she had still been preparing for their departure when the Society directors had abruptly assigned her to an upcoming two-year expedition to determine potential sites for rubber tree plantations in the Pacific islands. They’d replaced her with Regnier Goltzius, a recent Academy of Sciences graduate.
    The directors gave a sound reason for the change: Longcreek’s experience made her a better choice for the long and potentially perilous journey. David wasn’t fooled, however. She wasn’t the only experienced botanist available to the Society—but unlike Goltzius, she wasn’t the youngest son of a cousin to the Grand Duchess of Erie, one of the Society’s most generous patrons. Immediately placing Goltzius on an expedition no doubt pleased Her Highness…and the directors didn’t risk her anger by sending him to his death. Exploration societies were no strangers to fatalities among their ranks, but danger was less likely found in Iceland.
    Resigned to the change, Longcreek had turned months of research and notes over to the young man. To his credit, Goltzius had seemed to recognize the machinations behind his placement, and had appeared both frustrated and embarrassed during their first meeting. He hadn’t apologized, however, which had furthered David’s good impression—as had Goltzius’s keen interest in their survey of the abandoned island.
    But at this moment, Goltzius’s interest was directed upward. “Was all well with the young woman?”
    “Yes.” Until David had chased her off—but he glanced up, too, hoping to see her again. A whirring click sounded in his ear. The vision in his left eye blurred and sharpened as specialized lenses rotated into place beneath the tempered glass shield—the nanoagents aiding him in his search. Whenever he didn’t see an object that he was looking for, the mechanical bugs helped him find it. Now, their assistance didn’t make any difference. The thermal lens slipped into place, showing him bright orange heat concentrated around Phatéon ’s boilers and the yellow eddies of steam rising from the vents. No people were visible; though warm, they didn’t emit enough heat to register through the hull, and even his nanoagents couldn’t help him see through solid wood.
    “You be careful with those, now!”
    With alarm, Dooley abandoned them to look after his own interests—the clockwork dogs that would pull their supply sleds. David turned to watch, his default optic slipping back into