Steemjammer: Through the Verltgaat (23 page)

“Well, that is a part of the founding charter, and yer Auntie Stef takes it very seriously.”

“Even the enemy?”

“Believe me, I don’t want him here, but things are under control.”

“How? We saw Bram in a storage room where Dad had a verltgaat set, searching.”

“Well, I know tha’. Like mah grandad said, if yer steam won’t come out dry, then make a pot o’ tea.”

Will frowned with consternation. “Huh?”

“I think he means,” Giselle guessed, “to turn a negative situation into a positive one.”

“Aye, lass!” Donell beamed. “Since we have tah endure that Raz whelp, we’ve been keepin’ a sharp eye on him.”

“You’ve been spying on him?” Will said.

“Aye.”

“Then, what’s he looking for?”

“We’re still tryin’ tah figure that out.”

“Not anymore,” Will said, explaining how the bodyguard picked a lock so Bram could crawl inside an encased display to test a meteorite.

Astonished, Donell’s mouth and eyes opened so wide that they would have laughed had the situation not been so serious and the little train so rickety.

“Breakin’ in?” the short man bellowed. “Pourin’ chemicals on what? A
hemel steen
?”

“A meteorite, yes,” Angelica said. “We have one in the library and more in the – AGH!”

They all grabbed handles as the train banked sharply and plunged almost straight down. It darted under a massive steel beam and whipped and snaked around posts and walls.

“Oo!” Donell grunted, his knuckles turning white as he struggled to hang on. “Bit o’ a tight turn there. Grandad’s way o’ seein’ tha’ we keep sharp.”

The little train pulled straight and surged back up near the ceiling.

“Isn’t there a seat belt?” Angelica yelled.

“A whuh?” Donell said with great confusion. “Why would a seat need a belt? They dinna wear pants!”

“Just hold on and don’t let go,” Giselle told her.

They whipped through a series of tight turns between massive columns.

“I think I’m gonna throw up,” Angelica groaned.

“No, yer not,” Donell shouted. “Yer a Steemjammer.”

“Really, I’m about to barf.”

“Have a groat klonk.”

“What?”

“Go on, have one.”

Will handed her one from his pocket. She really didn’t want it, but as she remembered the happy taste of the skirlberries, her nausea lessened. So she popped it in her mouth. The real thing worked better.

“All goot?” Donell shouted.

She nodded. Soon all the kids were sucking groat klonks and clenching brass handles.

“Och, we’re almost there!” Donell said. “There’s something I almost forgot. I was comin’ tah get ye for a reason.”

“Wait,” Will demanded. “What about the meteorite? He said it was fake, but why would Bram and my dad be looking for one in the first place, especially when we already have some in Beverkenhaas?”

“In a moment. Now listen, I dinna ken what ye’ve been told, but rumors on the subject are thicker than flies on - er – ye know what flies like.”

“Donell,” Cobee demanded, “what are you talking about?”

“The
marriage
.”

“Huh?”

“Ye have tah believe me. There’s no finer or truer person, in spite o’ what gets said. So ye must be trustin’, right? Do ye follow me at all?”

“No,” Giselle and Angelica said together.

“Just slow down,” Will said, wincing from pain in his stomach, “and explain from the beginning.”

Donell sighed. “Too late.”

Steam brakes hissed under the cars, and they slumped forward as the train came to a sudden stop in a sparse, station-like area in a far corner of the Steem Museum. Deserted, the place looked seldom used.

“It’s about time,” said a familiar voice with irritation.

A woman stood before them, glancing at a pocket watch, and she didn’t look happy. It was Tante Stefana.

Chapter
22

a change of plans

“This way,” Stefana commanded. “Please hurry.”

Leading them down a long, empty hallway in the back of the Steem Museum, she pushed aside a faded tapestry and opened a secret door cleverly made to look like part of the stone wall. Beyond it stretched a storage room filled with old weapons, uniforms, and damaged contraptions. Some looked like disassembled verltgaat machines.

“Does any of this work?” Giselle asked.

“No, or we would have already sent you back,” Stefana said. “Some are spare parts from actual verltgaat machines, like this.”

To Will’s surprise, she returned the drawing he’d made earlier, which he pocketed. Kneeling, she rotated an old control panel for them all to see.

“Is it like the one in Beverkenhaas?” she asked.

Donell, who’d finished locking the secret door, brought over a lamp, and they examined a timer board almost identical to the one in their home.

“Yes,” Will answered. “Only ours is very scuffed.”

“I suspected as much,” she said gravely. “This is the one you set?”

She pointed at a dial that seemed to be marked UU.

“I think so,” he said hesitantly.

“Study it carefully.”

The curvy script confused him, and he had to take a moment to try to settle the nausea left over from the jerky train ride. He saw a symbol shaped a lot like a UU, just like the one in Beverkenhaas, but this joined in the middle like a W, instead.

“I don’t know,” he said. “Is that a W?”

“Yes, but done in an old-fashioned style. See the rounded bottoms? Now, was it scuffed here?” She held a piece of paper over the top of the letter. “Giving a separation, so that it looked like a couple of U’s?”

A sinking feeling seemed to drag will to the floor. “It wasn’t UU? I set a dial marked W?”

“You just went through the Halls of History,” she said. “Can you put it together?”

“But it has to mean ‘hour!’ Even on this board there isn’t a U or UU. Why would there be no dial for hours?”

“Where are we from, originally?”

“The Black Forest, but – oh verdoor.” He suddenly got it. “These old boards aren’t in Dutch. We used to speak German!”

“Verbeter.”
Correct.
“This one, ST, means ‘stunden’ or hours in German. And W stands for ‘wochen,’ or weeks.”

“I set it for a
whole week
!”

His nausea intensified, and he feared he would throw up. He had to put a hand on the wall to steady himself.

“Will, it’s not as bad as it sounds,” his aunt said with surprising sympathy. “At least you didn’t set it for J, or ‘Jahren.’ Then, we’d have to wait a whole year.”

“But the firebox in Beverkenhaas will burn out,” Will said, “and there will be no steam to drive the machine.”

“You have an automatic log-feeder, neh?”

“It’s only good for a few days. Maybe more, since no one’s there to use the systems, but I can’t imagine it lasting past Monday or Tuesday. By the time Thursday morning comes, our boiler will be stone cold. There will be no steam when the verltgaat tries to open!”

Her warm smile surprised them all. “Relax, please. I might know something about your father you don’t.” She turned to Giselle. “Deetricus, too. Never forget that I’m their little sister, and let me assure you, I don’t think for a moment either of them would have gone off through a verltgaat without more of a backup than a timer.”

“There’s another boiler?” Angelica asked.

“No, leef, a backup fuel system. If the timer connects but there’s no steam, my guess is that a hidden coal box or reservoir of oil will activate, heating the boiler. There’s an excellent chance that on Thursday morning at nine o’clock, the timer will count down, steam will be produced, and the verltgaat will open in Tante Klazee’s house.”

Will felt a surge of relief. “It could really be that easy?”

“We’ll have to see.”

“Not if Marteenus gets into Beverkenhaas,” Angelica warned, “and finds the machine.”

“Let’s hope that doesn’t happen,” her aunt said. The most important thing is that you remain unharmed. Kinter, you’re not going to like this next part.”

She wiped her glasses and took a moment to frame her thoughts.

“That young Rasmussen’s taken far too much interest in you,” she continued, “and between your encounter with Clyve Harrow and the one you just had with Bram, it’s a miracle nothing has gone wrong. I can see now that my original idea was far too risky. You must go straight to your Tante Klazee’s and stay there, indoors, until Thursday.”

Her words hit them like a door slamming shut.

“No,” Will protested. “You have to listen to us. We know things you don’t.”

She started to contest him but saw Donell hold up a hand.

“He saw Bram,” he said, “inside the glass with Gerardus and Newton.”

Stefana’s eyes opened wide. “What?”

As Will explained what he’d seen, she listened with rapt attention. When he finished, she looked away, pressing a finger to either side of her face.

“The hemel steen?” she said. “And he said it was fake?”

“Yes,” Will said.

“That’s strange, because it’s
real
.”

“What?”

“It’s part of a ‘falling star,’ if such things really exist, that Gerardus collected on Old Earth.”

“Like the ones in Beverkenhaas?” Angelica asked.

“I would assume so,” Tante Stefana said. “This makes no sense. There are pieces of Gerardus’s meteorite all over. We must have a dozen here.”

“Could the Raz,” Will asked, “somehow use one to open verltgaats?”

“No. They’ve been tested, and they’re just iron ore with a little nickel and iridium – no special properties at all.”

“Then, why was it kept?” Giselle asked.

Stefana shrugged. “A curiosity? Because it was special to Gerardus?”

“We have to find out,” Will said, “or risk ‘losing all.’ My father wrote that in his journal. Don’t you know what it is he’s looking for?”

Tante Stefana sighed.

“No,” she said. “He asked me a lot of questions that made clear he was searching for something very important, but he never trusted me with what it was.”

Will sensed an expression of hurt on her face, but she willed it away quickly.

“Well, I trust you,” Will said, “and I’ve told you everything I know.”

For a moment her eyes started to water.

“Wilhelmus Steemjammer,” she said, her voice cracking, “I do appreciate that, more than you can imagine.”

She collected herself before continuing. “You and your father have taken insane risks, and it has to stop. Your safety, Will, is all that matters, neh? Before arguing with me, please listen, because there’s more.”

She looked away, lost in deep thought. Clearly something bothered her greatly.

“The other day, I advised you to lie,” she said, turning her gaze to the floor. “I don’t know what possessed me. Fear? Wanting to save you from harm? Last night I dug through old writings and realized I’d made a horrible mistake. I’m so sorry, but much has been withheld from me, ever since my ill-advised marriage.”

Feeling sorry for her, Angelica reached out. Tante Stefana gripped her little hand and seemed to draw comfort.

“Our ancestors,” she continued, “believed ‘goot steem’ is more than just intelligence and a knack for making things. They say it comes from an ability to see truth at a deeper level. This is the reason we can open verltgaats, and it’s why we find it almost impossible to tell falsehoods. It seems we must be truthful to see deeper truth.

“What’s more, if we tell lies, we might actually damage ourselves. What I read warned of a very real chance that we lose our goot steem and even risk our health.”

Shocked looks crossed the Steemjammer kids’ faces, and Giselle spoke up. “Our health?”

“I don’t want to frighten you,” their aunt said, “but yes. They said that those with the Steemjammer name were at most risk.”

“How risky?” Will asked. “Death?”

She put her hand on Will’s shoulder.

“Let’s not find out,” she said. “Will, Angelica, Giselle. I sincerely hope I haven’t caused you harm, but so far it seems we’ve avoided such a tragedy. Don’t you see now why you have to stay somewhere safe?”

“Yes, but what about my father?” he protested. “There’s got to be a clue as to what happened to him. He’s the only one who can find our mother, and what about Giselle? Dad’s the only one who can rescue Onkel Deet, and Marteenus said he wasn’t feeding him anymore. There isn’t much time.”

Stefana let out a heavy sigh. “Deet’s my brother, and I have many fond memories of him. Please keep that in mind when I say we don’t have any choice, because I don’t want anything to happen to him, either. The verltgaat will open or not Thursday morning. If it does, and if you’re still safe, then, we can take care of those other things.

“With Beverkenhaas secured, we can search for clues in a meaningful way and rescue Deetricus.” She turned to Giselle, whose face had turned very pale. “Don’t worry, leef. Your father can go several weeks without food, maybe longer. Besides, as evil as Marteenus is, he won’t let your father die. He’s too valuable as a bargaining tool alive.”

“Ye need tah do what yer Aunty Stef says,” Donell added gently. “She knows what’s best.”

“Trust me, kinter, please,” she said. “Donell will see you to safe transportation that will get you to Tante Klazee’s, where you must stay. Do you understand?”

Will wanted to work out better ways to spy on Bram, but this new information unnerved him. Had they already been damaged by letting others call them Stevens? What if she was right and even misleading people might result in real harm? Was this why he’d been feeling so weak? His sister was particularly sensitive, and he feared for her, too.

“Yes, Tante Stefana,” he agreed. “I understand.”

The others nodded.

“Thank you,” she said. “You’ll find it hard to wait, so be sterk. Come Thursday, everything will change. I’m sure of it.”

***

“Dinna worry, lass,” Donell said to Angelica after leading them down a series of long hallways to a loading bay and rushing them into the back of a waiting steemwagon. “Mildred will be yer driver, and we can trust her as we can trust the sun tah rise in the mornin’.”

“No,” she said. “I meant what about when Monday comes and Bram notices we’re not here. Won’t he get suspicious?”

“I have all Saturday and Sunday tah muddle on tha’. Now, Mildred will be here shortly – er, soon. Stay quiet and wait for her instructions.”

Cobee scowled with frustration. “I don’t get it. We have all the steemtraps we need. We’ve been training for years to fight. Why do we keep hiding from them like scared rabbits when we should attack?”

“We’re ready,” Angelica added. “Dad’s trained us how to fight as long as I can remember, but Will’s the one who’s good at it. He stood up to a Shadovecht.”

Donell studied their concerned faces and sighed.

“I dinna like this any more than ye,” he admitted. “Fightin’ time will come, and soon. But not now. Thursday’s just a heartbeat away. The time will pass in a wink. Keep faith.”

He shut the door, and the cargo area of the steemwagon, the size of a typical delivery van on Old Earth, became quite dark. Only a narrow crack in the door and a small hole in the side let in light.

“Dis stinkan,” Cobee groaned.
This stinks
. “Sent away like a box of old junk!”

“She said it was for our own good,” Angelica replied, trying to put a positive spin on things.

“Hiding the truth from us on Old Earth,” Giselle said, “was ‘for our own good,’ and look where that got us. If they’d even told us a little about this place, I don’t think we would’ve gone opening verltgaats willy-nilly and let a Shadovecht into Beverkenhaas.”

“Maybe they didn’t tell us about this place to keep us from having to lie.”

“Cobee’s right,” Will said. “This does stink. Dad lied or misled people all the time, and he didn’t lose his goot steem.”

“Same with my dad,” Giselle said.

A troubled expression brewed on Angelica’s face. “What if they did? Dad vanished, didn’t he? And Onkel Deet got captured. Could that have happened because they got bad steem?”

Will hadn’t considered that, and he had no answer. Giselle looked worried and had nothing to say, either.

“This is awful,” Cobee muttered. “The big Steemball tournament starts Thursday, and now it looks like I’ll have to miss it.”

The others gave him incredulous stares.

“Don’t you think,” Giselle said, “that there’s something a little more important than a
game
?”

“Ach,” he said miserably, “you’re right, but can I help it if I’m a fan?”