Steemjammer: Through the Verltgaat (19 page)

“Really not goot,” Frog muttered. “It’s only supposed to go so far and retract. If this were a match, that’d disqualify our whole team.”

A dismal cloud seemed to hang over the trap.

“Oh, is that the ball?” Giselle said, pointing.

Not far away, a scuffed bronze ball sat under a bush. It was almost three feet in diameter.

“Yeah,” Jack said.

“Smaller than I’d imagined,” she commented. “I guess bronze really is that dense. I see a circle on it.”

“It’s a cap,” Cobee explained. “There are three, and they unscrew them to add or remove weights.”

“They just leave the ball out?” Angelica asked.

“So we can practice finding it, yeah,” Frog said.

“Isn’t it valuable?”

“Oh, ya,” Cobee said, “but the park is walled and watched. Also, it’s not like someone’s going to put a one ton ball in their pocket and sneak off. It’s safe.”

***

Happy to have the failed crusher off their minds, they got out to examine the ball, but Will held Cobee back.

“I didn’t mean to insult everyone,” he said worriedly, referring to his comments about their workmanship. “I think your steemtrap’s – what’s the word? Gaaf!”

“It wasn’t that,” Cobee said. “You
scared
them.”

Will raised an eyebrow. “How?”

“None of us know fluid mechanics, and you were doing them
in your head
. That’s zonderlink!”
Freaky
.

“Huh? Even Angelica knows the formulas. She’s actually faster than me.”

“Verdoor! Thank the Maker she didn’t open her mouth!”

“Oh!” Finally Will understood. “People might guess who I am because – they really haven’t learned this stuff?”

Cobee let out a huff of air. “Don’t you get it? It’s
hard
.”

“If you say so.”

His cousin shook his head and then grinned. “You really are your father’s son. Just keep it quiet, all this amazing stuff you know, or ya, the others will figure out your secret.”

Nodding – but still confused about how the mastery of some simple equations could be so startling - Will moved to a more delicate matter.

“Speaking of my dad,” he said, “shouldn’t we try harder to find him? We haven’t gotten close to that junk room to see if he left clues. I know everyone’s crazy about Steemball, but it’s just a game.”

“
Just a game
?” Cobee exclaimed. “Haven’t you been listening?”

“Yeah. You fight over a bronze ball.”

“Our family thinks it’s so important that we popularized it.”

“We didn’t invent it?”

“No, the Axworthies did, long ago, and you’ll always see one of them as head referee. Anyway, we’ve always supported it - not that anyone with the Steemjammer name plays, at least not in tournaments, which wouldn’t be fair. Your grandfather, Ricardus, was a huge supporter. Can’t you see why we always got behind Steemball?”

Challenged, Will mulled it over.

“Oh,” he said. “Steemtraps for the game could be used in war. This way, lots of people are trained and ready.” His eyes opened wide as he realized something else. “This steemtrap would just fit through a verltgaat!”

Cobee grinned. “Now you’re catching on.”

“It’s a steam-powered tank!”

“Steam power
stank
?”

“Tank – an Old Earth word I have to remember not to say. It’s an armored fighting vehicle. Take off the crusher, add real weapons, and we could invade Beverkenfort.”

“Crushers are real weapons. The ones we use are weakened for the game. Set them to full power and boom!” He slapped his fist into his open hand. “Shadovecht gets smashed into scrap metal.

“We’ve built an armada of traps – good ones that actually work, right under the Razzies’ noses. They’re so dense they think they’re just for the game.”

That got Will’s blood flowing. Finally, after hearing about Rasmussen attacks and the need to hide from them, someone had a plan to strike back. But his hopes quickly fell as he realized there was a major problem.

“All right,” he said, “I was wrong. Steemball is important, but Cobee, if we don’t find my dad and stop the Raz from opening their own world holes, none of this matters.”

Cobee understood, and they spent the rest of the afternoon searching for the place where they’d first come through a world hole. The Museum was truly vast, however, and the storage rooms their cousin found, though large and filled with old steam powered contraptions, were not right.

The more they searched, the more Will got a sinking feeling something was wrong. His side began to ache again, and the plan to convert steemtraps armed with crushers and pokers into war wagons to take back Beverkenfort also had problems. The enemy had a weapon that caused fear, and only a few people could overcome it, like his grandfather apparently had. What good would an army of steemtraps be if all the drivers were overwhelmed by terror, unable to think clearly?

Even worse, toward the end of the day, they finally located the large storage room. Angelica ran to the boiler, hoping against hope that a verltgaat would be open or her father would be waiting for them with a big grin on his face. But they had no such luck. They spent close to an hour combing through old locomotives, steam powered mining machines, cranes and dusty boxes but found nothing of interest.

On the cable car ride back to Tante Klazee’s, Will was exhausted. The amazing scenery that had been so fascinating that morning went ignored, because he had so much to worry about. His side still ached, though not like it had when Alfonz told him he was close to dying and required a remedy. He figured he needed more of that awful, tar-like glop, and he’d be okay. With that fear under control, other questions spun through his mind.

Where was his father? What had he been looking for that was so important, this thing that the Rasmussens also wanted? Did Bram suspect them, or had he fallen for Cobee’s story that they’d been joking about their name? They hadn’t seen Bram the rest of the day, so maybe they could, as Tante Stefana had suggested, hide in plain sight.

So much had happened so fast. At least he had a good feeling about his father’s younger sister, a woman who until that morning he’d never known existed. Would Tante Stefana figure out what he’d done wrong and get them to safety? Unable to keep his eyes open anymore, he curled up in his seat and fell fast asleep.

Chapter
18

turning a corner

Opening his eyes, Will had a strong sense that he was in danger, though he couldn’t say precisely why. He found himself in the sub-basement in Beverkenhaas, which should have been a wonderful thing, only it didn’t look right. Sticky-looking strands hung from the ceiling, and an eerie green glow came from the walls.

Taking a few steps, he froze with fright. In the center, several large, white-faced Shadovecht worked on a verltgaat machine. Bigger than the one he’d fought, these creatures wielded delicate tools instead of weapons and were fed by rubber tubes that ran to huge glass vats of foul, greenish brown liquid. The carousel section spun insanely fast, spurting clouds of noxious-smelling vapor and seeming to howl in pain from the sound of scraping metal.

The lump of Tracium pulsed in and out of existence in the air. Will shuddered with horror, realizing how close they were to making it work. Even worse, he stood there with no place to hide. All the monsters had to do was turn, and they’d see him.

“Will.”

He had to get out of there. Someone called to him, but he couldn’t tell who or what. Something grabbed him. He tried to run but found his legs wouldn’t move.

“Will, wake up!”

***

His sister shook him. “I can’t do this anymore.”

Still caught between his nightmare and reality, Will sat up. He found himself in a trundle bed in Cobee’s room, surrounded by book shelves and wall paper covered with exotic airships, not Shadovecht. Angelica looked unhappy.

“Do I have to go back?” she pleaded.

Unsure what she meant, his mind returned to the previous afternoon. They’d come back to their Tante Klazee’s house to find her waiting with a balding man with wild, wispy tufts of red hair. A trusted doctor who spoke with a thick Dutch accent, he’d made a haasbezook (
house call
) to examine Will.

He said the poison had been stopped in time but that aches and weakness would be normal as his body repaired itself. The only bad news was that Will had to take a spoonful of the horrid-tasting remedy twice a day for a full week.

“Are you even listening?” Angelica accused.

Will snapped back to the present, smiling. “Not really. You mean the Steem Museum? Of course we have to go back. Tante Stefana said we have to be seen.”

“Right, to fool the Rasmussens, but isn’t that the same as
lying
? Also, I can’t stand it when Cobee says I’m Angie-bee Stevens. Angie-bee’s my real nickname. That part’s okay, but not the other.”

Getting up, he feared that his side would resume throbbing. He was thankful that it was only a little sore.

“I know it’s hard,” he said, “but you know what will happen if they figure out who we really are.”

She nodded, wincing.

“We kept secrets from people in Beverkenhaas,” Will continued, “like trying not to let anyone see the penguins, and Mom and Dad kept secrets from us.”

“But they also said to always tell the truth.”

“Does that mean we can’t hide things - that we have to tell everyone everything we know?”

She looked away. “It’s one thing to hide something, but it’s another to lie or let others lie for you. Even thinking about it makes me sick.”

Will thought about how he’d told Bram his real name, even though he knew it could bring disaster on them. By sheer luck the young Rasmussen had seemed to think they were only joking. Even though it had saved them, something about it turned his stomach.

“It gets to me, too,” he admitted. “When I felt bad yesterday, maybe it was from misleading people. Even so, we have to go back and try to find Dad. We’re just going to have to be tough. I don’t see any other way.”

“Will,” a voice called from another room. “You’d better come see this. Something’s wrong with Gus.”

“Gus!” he said, realizing he’d forgotten all about the little Gnome. He followed his sister down the hall.

***

Angelica and Giselle slept in a guest room where Tante Klazee had placed an old doll bed for Gus. He’d remained frozen in his stone-like form, and Klazee and Alfonz had assured them he’d be fine, that he just needed some time.

“Thoos!” a tiny voice murmured with a heartfelt sob.

Will rushed in behind Angelica, and he saw Giselle and Cobee standing over Gus, watching with concern. The Gnome knelt on the floor, weeping and kissing the wooden planks over and over.

“Thoos!” he said again.
Home!

“I woke up,” Giselle said, “and saw him acting like this.”

“Gus, what’s wrong?” Will said.

The Gnome didn’t respond.

“Why does he keep saying that?” Giselle asked. “Did he used to live here?”

“To this haas, he’s not meaning,” a voice said from the doorway. It was Alfonz, who’d been forced to leave the day before by his wanderlust. He looked tired, like he’d spent most of the night walking the city before coming back. “For home, Beverkenverlt he means. Gnomes, they from here are. This verlt, neh?”

“Tante Klazee said it was bad for his health to be on Old Earth, that he had to spend most of his time frozen – or he might have died.”

Tiny, glass-like tears ran down Gus’ cheeks, making wet spots on his shirt and vest.

“I don’t understand,” Angelica said. “Toory and Klemmie do just fine in Ohio, and they’re from here.”

“Not zo,” Alfonz said. “De vetganen,”
the penguins
, “from Old Earth were here bringing. Stand under?”

“Oh, they were originally earth penguins, and they turned purple here and grew their little crowns. They changed like people changed.”

“Ya.”

Will studied Gus. “You all right?”

The exhausted little Gnome, who’d climbed back into bed, nodded and closed his eyes. “Thoos.”

“Maybe his body needs elements that only exist here,” Giselle said. “No wonder he feels bad.”

“Some time be giving,” Alfonz said. “Fine, he’ll be.” He closed his eyes and took a deep sniff, smiling broadly. “Ah, what a big smell I have! This smell you’re having?”

The Steemjammer kids covered their mouths to suppress laughter, each thinking to correct his poor choice of words but instead sensing the wonderful aroma of breakfast wafting up the steps from the kitchen. Alfonz urged them to go eat while he took a bath – and to save him some waffles, which were making the heavenly scent. Those were his favorite food, he added, and after eleven years of substandard ones on Old Earth, he was very much looking forward to these.

***

As they gathered around the breakfast table, Will remembered the spectacular meal Klazee’d fed them the night before and couldn’t believe he was going to eat again. She’d started off by serving a thick split pea soup called “snert” from a frog-shaped tureen. Packed with smoked ham and topped with a swirl of heavy cream, it had been a meal in itself. But it had only been her first course.

She’d brought out a magnificent herbed-roasted chicken, crispy on the outside and juicy in the middle, followed by cheese-stuffed dumplings with sauce, poached salmon in dill butter, savory vegetable dishes, salad, fresh baked rolls and a choice of six fruit jams.

After all that came dessert. Sticky honey cakes, berry tarts smothered with whipped cream, and a sweet custard in caramel sauce. He couldn’t believe how much he’d eaten.

Now Klazee brought them a platter piled high with steaming hot, thick golden wafels (
waffles
) fresh out of a special cooking iron that shaped them like nuts, bolts and interlocking gears.

Next came crisp bacon, plump sausages, and a choice of smoked or pickled herrings. A fresh loaf of warm bread sat on a cutting board with a tub of sweet butter.

“This is zinkberry syrup,” she said, pointing to a glass pitcher filled with a pink liquid so bright that it seemed to glow. “It’s made from a plant native to Beverkenverlt, so just try a dot, first, to see if you have a reaction. If it stings your tongue like nettles, don’t eat any more. That means you’re allergic.”

She set down honey, a bowl of homemade appelmoos –
applesauce
– topped with thickened cream, and a basket of date-sized, brownish-orange fruits that were
square
.

“They’re goot,” she explained, going back to the kitchen. “They taste like snookendapp but less bitter, and no allergies. Try one.”

Out of her view, Cobee took a couple and slid them into his pocket, signaling the others not to touch them.

“It makes her happy,” he whispered, “to think we had some, but they taste very different, person to person. She loves them, but they leave a horrible metal flavor in my mouth. For others it’s rotten eggs, and some get their tongue turned black for a whole week!”

“I find it interesting,” Giselle said, eying the little fruits warily, “that there’s a mix of plants from Old Earth and - what did Tante Klazee call them? Native ones? So our ancestors brought Old Earth plants with them, but others already grew here?”

Cobee nodded. “Native plants tend to be squared off and not rounded. Some are totally poisonous, some delicious. But most are really weird.”

Weird, Will thought, recalling the crack in the sky and the idea of the sun and moon traveling along tracks on wheels – and so many other strange things. Since arriving he’d been focused on practical issues, and there’d been no time to grasp B’verlt’s fundamental strangeness.

“What is this place?” he asked, flabbergasted. “I mean, where are we relative to Old Earth?”

Cobee made an exaggerated shrug. “That’s another reason to find your vader. I bet he knows, or your moyder. They say she studies that sort of thing. You know, the big questions.”

Reminded of her mom, Angelica felt saddened but tried to stay upbeat. Giselle put a hand on her shoulder to give her assurance, which helped.

Will also felt a tug of heartache. His mom had been gone some time, and he really missed her. He recalled his father saying something similar, that she was much smarter than he was. She’d been principally in charge of their education, and now he wished he’d pressed her for more information.

Why, he wondered, hadn’t they taught him about this place? He felt so ignorant. How did weird elements like Incendium work? What was the Maker or Great Maker they kept referencing? God? Something else? The questions seemed to have no easy answers, so he put off asking.

“Alfonz was right,” Angelica said, taking a bite of wafel and savoring it. “These are delicious!”

Suddenly hungry, Will ate some, and a warm grin spread across his face as he slowly chewed. Crisp with a nutty, buttery flavor on the outside, soft and creamy in the middle, the wafels were absolutely perfect.

Even better, the zinkberry syrup didn’t sting his mouth, and it was like nothing he’d ever tasted. Sweet with just enough sour and layers of wonderful fruit flavors that ranged between perfectly ripe boysenberries, aromatic cherries and something exotic and tropical, like mango – he poured on more and ate heartily.

“Alles zit goot?” Tante Klazee asked.
All is good?

“Wonderful,” Angelica said. “Best wafels in either world!”

Will nodded enthusiastically, indicating that he had too much in his mouth to speak. A glow of satisfaction beamed from Klazee’s face. She hugged them and piled more on their plates.

“Save some for Alfonz,” Angelica remembered, “or he’ll be very disappointed.”

Klazee laughed. “Don’t worry, I have plenty more.”

“My groesmoyder’s the best cook in New Amsterdam!” Cobee said. “We’re so lucky.”

“Kinter’ve got to be well fed,” she said, blushing and pouring hot tea for Giselle from an ornate pot shaped like a windmill. “This tea grows in the south near the desert. They call it Watergoyzen Victory. It’s fermented and then roasted quite dark.”

“It’s strong,” Giselle said, taking a sip, “but nicely balanced. I like it.”

The others drank from earthenware mugs filled with a spicy-sweet, hot milk beverage called “slemp.” Like snert, Will thought, it tasted a lot better than it sounded.

“Too bad kaffee bushes won’t grow here,” Klazee said. “And cocoa trees! The poor things just wilt and die. Your father, Henry, always remembered to bring me chocolate, but we have to keep it very secret. It’s said Rasmussen’s can smell it a mile away and know it’s tied to us.”

“Because we’re the only ones who can travel back to Old Earth?” Angelica asked.

“Ya, leef.” She lowered her voice to a bare whisper. “And we have to make sure we can still do that. Wilhelmus, did Stefana really say nothing about the verltgaat?”

Will felt a tinge of guilt over the issue. “She took my drawing, and we haven’t seen her since.”

“Maybe we find out today. Cobee, are you sure they feed you enough for lunch? Perhaps I should pack some, just to be sure.”