Installment 8

Og led the sisters across the landing to the stairs leading down the left hand side of City Hall.  As they started down the steps, the mayor began to address the crowds.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” he called.  “Hear me!”

“Oh, lord!” Nala exclaimed.  “The blowhard’s about to speak!”

Og did not look back, but braced himself for the way ahead.  “Watch your step,” he cautioned.  “And stay behind me.”

Og reached the sea of people at the bottom of the stairs, but he gave no pause.  The urgency of his friends spurred him on.  He had never seen the sisters so flustered before.  Nala had always been cantankerous and a bit foul-mouthed, and Nela had always been a little high-strung, but he had never seen them appear frantic.  If getting them back to their workshop would help, then he had no other choice than to get them there as fast as he could.  As he came to the congregation below, he gave no thought to propriety.  He simply yelled “Excuse me!” and barrelled through.  

The crowd fell away from the massive slodhi on both sides.  The sisters followed in his wake.  

“Atta boy, Oggie!” cried Nela.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the mayor went on.  “I have splendid news!”

Those who generally favored the mayor cheered.  Those who did not hissed and threw rotten vegetables.  The sounds of the tumultuous gathering grew into a veritable storm of disquiet.  By the time Og and the sisters reached the rear-most lines of the crowd, the mayor’s voice had been completely swallowed up by the deafening commotion. 

Og proceeded past the gathering and into the congested streets beyond.  He turned to the right and led them on.  When he had gotten several blocks away from City Hall, and no longer had to push his way through a mob, Og turned to his friends.  “So, I don’t understand,” he said.  “What’s this all about?”

As the way cleared ahead of them, the sisters took positions on either side of him.  Nala shook her head and took out a cigar.  “It’s all about Proposition 83.”

“Proposition 83?”

“You haven’t heard about it?  The whole town’s been in an uproar.”

Og led the sisters down Sulaemo Avenue then turned west.  He marked the Docking Tree from the corner of his eye.  There were only three structures that never moved in Oard.  The Chaos Lord’s citadel, the Apothecary, and the Docking Tree.  Og was always aware of all three, deep in the recesses of his mind.

“I don’t pay much attention to these sorts of things, I guess.”

A deafening roar went up from the square behind them.  It was clear to them all that the mayor had just made his announcement.  Metal clanged.  Bells sounded.  Howls of rage filled the night.

“Whatever it was,” he went on, “I guess you weren’t the only ones affected by it.”

“No,” said Nela.  “But it’s worse for us.”

They dodged a group of alchemists.  The alchemists were dressed in reinforced armor suits and carried strange vials in their gloved hands.  They wore thick goggles over their eyes and mumbled to each other as they headed straight for the square.

Og watched them momentarily then turned back to his friends.  “How so?” he asked.  “How is it worse?”

“Do you remember The Damselfly?” asked Nala, lighting her cigar.

“You mean the ship you’ve been working on?  Of course.”

Nala wheezed raggedly as she blew great clouds of smoke behind her.  “That’s right.  Ugh!  How much farther do we have to go?  I’m too old to keep up this pace.”

Og slowed.  “Well, I’m afraid we still have a ways to go.”

“Damn.”

Suddenly, an explosion rocked the city.  The air pressure surged as a warm wind rushed through the streets and buffeted them all.  

“What in the world?” Og turned back toward the square.

“It’s getting bad,” said Nala.  “I don’t think that will be the end of it, either.”

“We have to hurry!” said Nela.  “Our ship!”

Og hurried forward.  “Can you keep up?” he asked Nala.

“I’ll be fine.”

Og felt for her.  Slodhi were not exactly built for speed either.  He too had begun to tire.  He glanced down at Nela.  “So, what’s wrong with your ship?”

“Nothing!” she responded.  “She’s beautiful.  It’s just—Prop 83 is going to ground her if we don’t get her in the air by midnight tonight!”

“Midnight?  But, why?”

“She’s been classified as experimental because of her size,” answered Nala.  “But that ain’t the reason they’re grounding her.”

“They’ll never ground my baby!” Nela cried.  “We’ll beat them.”

“I don’t follow,” said Og.  He turned right then continued past an outdoor cafe.  Even here, the streets were buzzing with late night patrons and loud discussion.  Panic and unrest wafted from windows and doors.  Talk of the explosion was on everyone’s lips.

“It’s because it’s innovative,” said Nala.  “And it’s going to be the most lucrative invention this city’s ever seen.  The wagoneers are worried.  The rickshaws are fuming.  Everyone with a pack mule and a hand cart has some stake in it, and that’s why they introduced Prop 83.”

“We’re a threat,” said Nela.  “They’re trying to shut us down.”

“But, why?”

“‘Cause she’s small and light and can hover down low to deliver all sorts of stuff; boxes, bags, supplies, you name it.  It’s a wonder no one’s thought of it ‘til now.  Imagine being able to fly over Oard and see everything and deliver more accurately.”

“That’s amazing,” said Og.  “So why are people opposed to it?”

“People are afraid we’ll put them out of business,” Nela explained.

“Exactly,” said Nala.  “And we had a lot of investors whose money was riding on this too.  They’re not happy about the outcome at all.  

“No, sir,” said Nela.  “And they’re the kinda folk who don't’ like being told ‘no’, not to mention they have their own soldiers on the payroll.  This is gonna be a mess.”

“Unless we get her in the air by midnight,” said Nala.  “That’s when the law goes into effect.  Anything built before that is grandfathered in.”

Og nodded.  “I get it.”  He stopped in the middle of the street.  

The sisters stopped and looked up at him with surprise.

“What are you doing?” asked Nala.  “We can’t—”

“Come on,” he said.  

“Huh?”

Without asking, Og put his paws under Nala’s armpits and hoisted her up.  Nala gaped, incredulous.

Nela looked on in shock as Og threw her sister over his shoulder like an old backpack.  

“Hang on tight!” he declared.

Nala didn’t have time to be surprised.  She threw her arms around the slodhi’s neck and hung on for dear life.  

“You good?” he asked, glancing back.

“I’m good,” said Nala.  “But you gotta give a lady a heads up next time, you big lummox!”

“No time,” said Og.  “Hold on.”

Og put his head down and ran.

Nela laughed as she ran beside him.

“What are you laughing at?” Nala snapped.

“Your face!” she replied.  “I thought you were going to swallow your cigar!”

“Hmph!” Nala frowned.  “As if…”

***I included a bit from an older post and included all the changes I made here. Let me know what you think. If you're crazy enough to read all my edits, that is.

The sisters dashed across the brick landing.  As they reached Og, Nela grabbed his left paw and Nala took his right.  “Oh, Oggie!” Nela gasped.  “We’re so glad to see you!”

The sisters stared up at him with dark brown soulful eyes.  Nela was the youngest.  Her hair was a great black puffball in which she stored many of the tools of her trade.  Og noticed a pencil, a ruler, and a ratcheting screwdriver poking impossibly from within her kinky black locks.  Nala was older.  Her hair was as grey as a ball of dandelion spores, save for the thick protective goggles nestled there.  Both the sisters wore leather aprons and weld-spattered pants and boots.  The sisters were master crafters.  They had been fixing, engineering, and designing flying ships since they were old enough to hold screwdrivers, back in their father’s workshop. 

“Og,” Nela exclaimed, tugging his arm.  “We need to get home fast!” 

“Alright,” said Og.  “Is something wrong?”

“Everything!”

Nala winced at this.  “Nela’s worked up, Og, but she’s not exactly wrong.  We’re in a predicament.”

“I’m sorry, Oggie,” said Nela, glancing at her sister.  “I don’t mean to sound like a crazy person, but we really do need to get out of here.  Can you help us?”

Og nodded.  “Of course.  That’s what I’m here for.”

The crowds cheered and booed and waved flags.

Nala turned toward the mayor.  “Look at that fool.  He can’t wait to announce it.  Let’s get out of here.  I can’t stand the sound of his voice.”

“Say no more,” said Og.  “Come on.”

Og glanced around the landing.  There would be no way to go down the way he had come up.  The crowds were too excited there, but he noticed that the stairs fell away on both sides of the landing too.  He chose the nearest—the left hand way—and led the sisters across the landing.  As they started down the steps, the mayor began to address the crowds.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” he called.  “Hear me!”

“Oh, lord!” Nala exclaimed.  “The blowhard’s about to speak!”

Og did not look back, but braced himself for the way ahead.  “Watch your step,” he cautioned.  “And stay behind me.”

Og reached the sea of people at the bottom of the stairs, but he gave no pause.  The urgency of his friends spurred him on.  He had never seen the sisters so flustered before.  Nala had always been cantankerous and a bit foul-mouthed, and Nela had always been a little high-strung, but he had never seen them appear frantic.  If getting them back to their workshop would help, then he had no other choice than to get them there as fast as he could.  As he came to the congregation below, he gave no thought to propriety.  He simply yelled, “Excuse me!” and barrelled through.  

The crowd fell away from the massive slodhi on both sides.  The sisters followed in his wake.  

“Atta boy, Oggie!” cried Nela.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the mayor went on.  “I have splendid news!”

Those who generally favored the mayor cheered.  Those who did not hissed and threw rotten vegetables.  The sounds of the tumultuous gathering grew into a veritable storm of disquiet.  By the time Og and the sisters had reached the rear-most lines of the crowd, the mayor’s voice had been completely swallowed up by the deafening commotion. 

Og proceeded past the gathering and into the congested streets beyond.  He turned to the right and led them past a bakery and the offices of H. R. Dander, Attorney.  When he had gotten several blocks away from City Hall, and no longer had to push his way through a mob, Og slowed his pace and turned to his friends.  “So, ladies,” he said.  “Do you mind telling me what’s going on?  I’ve never seen you like this.”

As the way cleared ahead of them, the sisters took positions on either side of him.  Nala shook her head and took out a cigar.  “It’s all about Proposition 83.”

“Proposition 83?”

“You haven’t heard of it?  The whole town’s been in an uproar about it.”

Og led the sisters down Sulaymo Avenue then turned west.  He marked the Docking Tree from the corner of his eye.  There were only three structures that never moved in Oard.  The Chaos Lord’s citadel, the Apothecary, and the Docking Tree.  Og was always aware of all three, deep in the recesses of his mind.

“I don’t pay much attention to these sorts of things, I guess.”

A deafening roar went up from the square behind them.  It was clear to them all that the mayor had just made his announcement.  Metal clanged.  Bells sounded.  Howls of rage filled the night.

“Whatever it was,” he went on, “I guess you weren’t the only ones affected by it.”

“No,” said Nela.  “But it’s worse for us.”

They dodged a group of alchemists.  The alchemists were dressed in reinforced armor suits and carried strange vials in their gloved hands.  They wore thick goggles over their eyes and mumbled to each other as they headed straight for the square.

Og watched them momentarily then turned back to his friends.  “How so?” he asked.  “How is it worse?”

“Do you remember The Damselfly?” asked Nala, lighting her cigar.

Og jogged on.  His legs were tired and the pads of his feet were sore.  The sisters kept up the pace, clomping through the streets in their boots, but it was clear they too were beginning to tire.

“You mean the ship you’ve been working on?” he replied.  “Of course.”

Nala wheezed raggedly as she blew great clouds of smoke behind her.  “That’s right. Lord!  How much farther do we have to go?  I’m too old to keep up this pace.”

Og slowed.  “We still have a ways to go.”

“Damn.”

Suddenly, an explosion rocked the city.  The air pressure surged as a warm wind rushed through the streets and buffeted them all.  

“What in the world?” Og turned back toward the square.

“It’s getting bad,” said Nala.  “I don’t think that will be the end of it, either.”

“We have to hurry!” said Nela.  “Our ship!”

Og hurried forward.  “Can you keep up?” he asked Nala.

“I’ll be fine.”

The explosion roused people from their sleep.  Windows opened.  Shutters were thrown back.  A few people in their night robes spilled into the streets.  They squinted and looked about, wondering what was going on.

Og glanced down at Nela.  “You mentioned The Damselfly.  Is something wrong with your ship?”

“No!” she responded.  “She’s beautiful.  It’s everyone else that’s the problem.  They’re all trying to ground her.”

“Well,” said Nala.  “Not everyone.  There’s quite a few who’d like to see her in the air.”

“Right,” said Nela.  “I was exaggerating.”

“I don’t understand why anyone would be against it,” said Og.

“She’s been classified as experimental because of her size,” answered Nala.  “But that’s not the real reason they’re grounding her.”

“They’ll never ground my baby!” Nela cried.

“I don’t follow,” said Og.  He turned right then continued past an outdoor café.  Even here, the streets were buzzing with late night patrons and loud discussion.  Panic and unrest wafted from windows and doors.  Some folks were heading toward city hall to see what all the commotion was about.  Talk of the explosion was on everyone’s lips.

“It’s because our ship’s innovative,” said Nala.  “And it’s going to be the most lucrative invention this city’s ever seen.  The wagoneers are worried.  The rickshaws are fuming.  Everyone with a pack mule and a hand cart has some stake in it.  That’s why they introduced Prop 83 in the first place.”

“We’re a threat,” said Nela.  “They’re trying to shut us down.”

“But, why?”

“‘Cause she’s small and light and can hover down low to deliver all sorts of stuff; boxes, bags, supplies, you name it.  It’s a wonder no one’s thought of it ‘til now.  Imagine being able to fly over Oard and see everything and deliver more accurately.”

“That’s amazing,” said Og.  “So why are people opposed to it?”

“People are afraid we’ll put them out of business,” Nela explained.

“Exactly,” said Nala.  “And we had a lot of investors whose money was riding on this too.  They’re not happy about the outcome at all.  

“No, sir,” said Nela.  “And they’re the kinda folk who don't’ like being told ‘no’, not to mention they have their own soldiers on the payroll.  This is gonna be a mess.”

“Unless we get her in the air by midnight,” said Nala.  “That’s when the law goes into effect.  Anything built before that is grandfathered in.”

Og stopped in the middle of the street.  

The sisters stopped and looked up at him with surprise.

“What are you doing?” asked Nala, coughing through a cloud of smoke.  “We can’t stop now.”

Og studied his friend.  Sweat ran down her cheeks.  Her face was pale.  How long could she keep running?  “Midnight,” he said.  “That’s less than two hours away.”

They nodded.

“Oggie,” said Nela.  “We really do need to keep moving.  You understand, right?”

“Yes,” he replied.  “I understand.  Hold still.” 

“Huh?”

Og knew what he had to do.  Without asking, he put his paws under Nala’s armpits and hoisted her up.  Nala gaped, incredulous.

Nela looked on in shock as Og threw her sister over his shoulder like an old backpack.  

“Hang on tight,” he declared.

Nala didn’t have time to be surprised or disobey.  She threw her arms around Og’s neck and hung on for dear life.  

“You good?” he asked, glancing back.

“I’m good,” said Nala.  “But you gotta give a lady a heads up next time, you crazy beast!”

“There’s no time for that,” he replied.  “Hold on.”

Og put his head down and ran.

Nela took off beside him, laughing.

Nala frowned at her sister.  “What are you laughing at?”

“Your face!” she replied.  “I thought you were going to swallow your cigar!”

“Hmph!” Nala frowned.  “As if…”