And the Third Brought Fire

Nix's head rested against the side of the bench that had been reserved for her by the

Weetamo

clan - her head pillowed against her jacket, folded and folded again. Jonathan Nash was snoring softly in a hanging hammock, and Enterprise laid flat on her back on the floor, having refused bed or any comforts. Her eyes were closed, her arms flat to her sides, her bared breasts rising and falling as she breathed in her sleep. Nix regarded her as she laid on the ground.

She couldn't stop seeing the ghostly planes, swooping from the skies. The machine gun bullets from nowhere. The

torpedoes

dropped onto homes and houses. The spectral medics and damage control teams.

Now that she had time to think in the quiet of a dark cabin, hurtling through the American wasteland on a train that hummed with her own cheerful energy, Nix was able to pin down the chill in her belly.

It didn't make sense

.

She slid from the small bench, stepping gently over Enterprise, then started past the beds and hammocks. She came into the common room, where two of Nash's cousins were playing an old war game. In an example of boundless arrogance, the board showed the entire world and the tiny pieces that were laid out on it had been carved of wood, with tiny blocks and rectangles and circles, representing cannon, horses and infantry. They were regarding the board, and one of them said: "Okay, I'm going to push into France."

"Try it," his cousin said, grinning at him.

The two picked up dice and began to roll them - the rattling gentle in the quiet

chugga chugga chugga

of the train. Nix crossed her arms over her chest and both glanced at her, then froze.

"You need somethin'?" one asked.

"Are there any, uh, history books here?" she asked. It wasn't so insane a question. The tribe had to educate their people somehow - and while she had heard enough stories to fill her own book, there were going to be textbooks here somewhere. The cousin attacking France pointed back. She saw the bookshelf and whistled - the

Weetamo

clan had been collecting books for a while. Under the warmth of a buttery smooth electric light hanging overhead, Nix leaned forward and began to read off the books. Some were romances, some were travelogues, but many of them were technical manuals on animism, spirits, mechanics. There was even a big book Nix smiled at fondly:

The Mechanical Rubric.

It was full of every observed element of every known kind of spirit that existed in the Empire, updated yearly. This one was twenty years out of date, but...well...

Things hadn't changed much.

But there was what she was looking for.

The Ascension War: The Battles and Particulars of the American and British Allies against the Forces of the Axis Powers and the Atheist Comintern

by Daniel Lane. It was one of the more common historical books about the era. She tugged it out, picked it up, then opened it to the first page. The introduction was just as she remembered it.

Though what was once known has been lost in the Fire, much effort has been made to collect a true accounting based on verifiable information - information carried by contiguous spirits and surviving records, rather than the unreliable tongues of men. Through the Lady, Colossus, much of this book is made possible and to her, we owe an unending gratitude. It was in her the 20

th

century was truly born - the advent of technologies so advanced that they bucked the ancient taxonomic identification of animist spirits and awakened the ancient legends of Goddesses, things once consigned to the pages of myth and folklore. While many have heard the tales of Hera and Hestia, of Kali and Jesus Christ, who took the name from her slain son, all knew that such things are not for the modern era...until the dawning of a war that would quake the world...

Nix flipped past the first chapters - laying out the simmering, squabbling skirmish that sputtered in the very earliest days of the 20

th

century, fought with primitive land-behemoths and machine guns and killing gas. Past the early chapters, describing the rise of Emperor Adolph the First, who sought to forge in the fires of war and industry an empire that would last three thousand years. Past the chapters that saw the First of the Ladies, the Fortress, born in the factories of America, carried to Albion on sinews of vast sailing ships, spirits threading one and into the other to create the deadliest air-force in the history of man. She paused, looking at the few grainy photographs.

Dresden.

Coventry.

Stalingrad.

She paused, drawn in by Lane's lyric descriptions of the Alliance Forged in Hell, between the last great president of the United States and the despotic Atheist-Tzar, Joseph Stalin, then frowned and flipped back to the index. There she found the precise page she was looking for.

Midway.

Enterprise

.

Yorktown. Hornet.

She frowned.

"Three ships," she whispered. "Hundreds of planes."

She looked up at the ceiling, and the gently swaying electric bulb.

"...one sunk."

It didn't make sense.

She closed the book and returned to the sleeping room. She laid down, holding the book in her hands, and tried to figure out how to ask what she wanted to ask - she knew Enterprise already had a volatile, flickering mood after her loss of control. But the question circled around and around in her head, while the pressure of the heavy textbook weighed her chest down. Nix closed her eyes and frowned.

If a spirit can make a plane from nothing - if a spirit can bring forth damage control teams from nothing - if a spirit can drop torpedoes from nothing...

Why bring the

Yorktown

to sink?

***

Weetamo

crept along ancient tracks that had once wound through forests that now grew wildly. Completely out of control maize was spreading between every crack of the forest - competing and beating out other plants to create a confused and cluttered looking forest. The bright sun shone down on the backs of the burliest members of Nash's extended family as they walked ahead of

Weetamo

's cowcatcher, using machetes to hack away at the overgrowth that had pushed the ruined tracks from usable to unusable. The slowdown was intolerable to Nix, but Nash took it in stride. He lounged on the back of the train, rifle in his lap, sun shining down on his weathered face.

"You white men are always so worried about time," he said, shaking his head. "Cutting it into pieces, selling it off, measuring how much you can do by it." He gestured out around himself. "We have a fine day. Sun shines. Christ in her Heaven, you should at least try and enjoy it."

"My niece's life is on the line based on your

time

," Nix said, frowning.

Nash frowned and nodded. "True. But we're making better time through the Illotucky wilderness than anyone else. And, uh, we have to run through here." He jerked his chin. Nix craned her head and saw some of the younger kids were picking maize and tossing them into the cargo cabin. "Ever had popcorn?" he asked, curiously.

"Yes, at a carnival once," Nix said, a bit surprised. "But I don't suppose you have butter."

"We have cows. Now, they don't need milking, but..." Nash shrugged.

"I have butter," Enterprise said, then sat up. "Holy fucking shit, I got ice cream!"

"You have ice cream?" Nix asked, feeling that creepy cold dread in her gut again.

"Now that I haven't heard of in a long time," Nash said, grinning. "Had it once, when visiting Vejas. Most expensive half hour of my life, but I sure as hell enjoyed it."

"Well of course it was expensive, you were buying ice cream in a desert," Nix said, grinning at him.

"I was young and stupid," he said, amiably. Then, frowning. "Wait, you got ice cream? But,

Weetamo

has carried cattle and grain, fruit and veggies, guns and explosives, even some drugs." He cocked his head. "How come she can't pull that outta a hat?"

Nix blinked. She had been trying to think of how to ask Enterprise that, and Johnathan Nash had just brought it up like it was no big deal. Enterprise drew her knees up against her chest, looping her black and red painted arms around her shins. She frowned. "C-Cause I'm more complicated and more powerful n' shit."

Nash nodded his head. "Sure, fine. But

Weetamo

got stories from way back when, see. Back before the Fire. During the War, we carried a lot of guns and bullets and oil and iron and everything else you could think of, to help the war. Why move all that stuff here and there if a spirit could just whistle it up if it burned gasoline instead of coal?"

Enterprise glowered at him. "Do you want the fucking ice cream or not?" she snapped.

Nash arched an eyebrow. "You're an aircraft carrier. You don't have to be afraid of anything."

"I'm not afraid of shit!" Enterprise exclaimed, springing to her feet. "Fuck you, you goddamn old-"

"Well, now, um, ahem!" Nix said, springing to her feet. She took Enterprise's arm, tugging her gently, but firmly, away from the rather bemused looking Nash. She pulled her down until they were nearly at the caboose. Enterprise was panting, her turbines revving. "Enterprise, are you okay?" she asked. Enterprise glowered back at Nash.

"Fuckin'..." Enterprise fumed.

"Hey, come on, lets sit down." Nix said, gesturing. Enterprise harrumphed, then sat her butt down on the edge of the train, dangling her legs over the side. The warm sun shone along her muscular shoulders and Nix felt a twinge of eagerness - she wanted so badly to...work...on Enterprise, but...not now. That kind of work was delicate. It required care. And Enterprise was so clearly not ready. Nix sat down behind her, tucking her legs under her - her thick dungarees keeping her shins from scorching on the bare metal, which wasn't made to reflect away the sun's heat like the front of the train was. She squeezed Enterprise's shoulders, then began to rub her, thumbs circling along steel muscles and corded tendons made of banded cables.

Enterprise hung her head forward.

"You don't have to be afraid of yourself," Nix said, quietly.

"I'm not-"

"I saw your face, after Maryfort," Nix said, quietly. "You didn't want to hurt those people. And you're scared you might do it again, if you lose control."

Enterprise was quiet. She watched the trees and the wildflowers creep by - slightly slower than a human's walking pace. Her voice was soft. "I just saw you and...I...I remembered everyone I lost. A-All...all of them. So many." She was quiet. "Too many. It wasn't...it couldn't have just been in one battle, I didn't have that much crew..." Her eyes were soft. "It...I could remember something someone said..." She paused. "While eating chocolate...I am saddened by the thought that...I can no longer see my brothers..." She hesitated. "People die, Nix. They die and they go away forever. And we spirits, we...we keep going and going and going. And world keeps getting stranger and stranger."

Nix sighed. "Not many spirits get as...familiar with death as you do." Her hands slid down, around. She cupped her belly, drawing Enterprise into a tight hug. "The Ascension War must have been horrible."

"It was," Enterprise whispered. "The whole world was burning. They invaded China, they invaded Russia, they invaded France and...and fuckin' Belgium. Pearl Harbor got bombed. Everyone was mad about that. And it wasn't like the old wars, everyone said that. It wasn't just man fighting man. It was spirits gone crazy. There was this story that there was some...horrible

thing

in Poland and Ukraine, gobbling people up left and right, like...a cross between a fuckin' train and an sslaughter house." She shook her head. "We all went fucking insane, Nix. A-And...and...I'm scared...I don't..."

She lapsed into silence.

Nix considered. Then she smiled.

"Lets go sane then, for a bit."

She stood, then called to Nash. "Nash, you don't expect to go much faster for a while?"

"Nope!" He called back.

"Okay!" Nix called out.

She scrambled down the train, then dropped to the slowly moving ground. Enterprise gaped down at her.

Nix grinned. "Come on, Gray Ghost," she said - having looked up some of the spirit's sobriquets while reading the histories. "A walk in the forest would have done your crew well. Maybe it'll help with you."

"I'm a saltwater ship," Enterprise said, her voice wry. She hopped down - not even clambering, just dropping straight down to thump next to Nix.

"Even better. It'll be all new," Nix said, smiling.

***

Sunlight dappled through the trees, catching on some old beat up automobile that had run off the road and been abandoned. It had been stripped and whatever spirit it had had was long gone - dissipated into the world once more. Nix had once spoken to a spirit on that matter, and they didn't see it as

dying

the same way humans did. She slid her hands into her pockets, stepping over roots and rocks, while Enterprise looked at the trees, her eyes soft and wondering. "They used to make me out of these," she said, quietly.

Nix arched an eyebrow.

"...sorry, just..." Enterprise shook her head.

"Do all ships remember the old sailing ships?" Nix asked.

"Fuck...I can't explain it," Enterprise said. "I don't got the fucking fancy words for this shit. I only know three things: How to fuck up the Japanese, how to launch planes, and how to sail home." She sighed, then crossed her arms over her bare chest. "Sun feels nice on my decks though." She looked quietly off to the side. "My real body's at the bottom of the ocean, isn't it?"

Nix stepped over to the ruined automobile. Her palm brushed along rust, and a huge, thin limbed spider crawled through the back seats, which had split and peeled and rotted so long ago. The movement of the creature was silent and faintly condemnatory. Nix focused, trying to feel the spirit of the car. She felt a strange connection, something deep in her breast. But then it was gone, swept away in the long silence that had come to settle after the Fire.

Enterprise sighed. "The sun feels nice," she said.

"Good," Nix said.

"Fuck, man, tell me about something that isn't war," Enterprise whispered. She looked up at the trees, at the ways that the branches shifted in the wind. "Give me something, Nix."

Nix smiled, a little sadly. "In London, there is a pneumatic tube system so complicated that Lady Colossus oversees a large part of it. There's a clockwork garden, crafted by the best technologists and technicians of this era - with birds that move themselves and sing and dance. The spirits of that place are all brass and gold and beautiful and they recline in the shade and tell people stories about every famous person who has visited the place since it opened in the 20s. The previous 20s."

"Three hundred years?" Enterprise asked.

"...the second 20s," Nix said, then chuckled. Enterprise grinned.

"Three 20s," she said, shaking her head. "It's a bitch."

"There are underground railroads in every city, and airships on every trade wind, carrying food and goods around the world. We've rebuilt after the Fire, and...some people say it's even better." Nix shrugged. "There's something called the Apocalypse Clock that the Lady Colossus runs - general war is one, if another one stars, then a second Fire might come. But another is the Carbon Clock. All that coal and gas people burned back in the day started choking out the cities and the people. Well, Colossus has an exacting formulae, down to the littlest T and dotted I to make sure every carbon we put up in a burner is put back in the ground with trees and shrubs." She smirked. "It helps we use atomic steam engines for most things now. I...I like those clocks. They keep us on time, you know?"

Enterprise nodded, then breathed in. She sat down against a tree, skidding down the branches with a creaking crackle, popping some bark off without noticing - metal beat wood. She looked at Nix and said, quietly. "Do you want that ice cream?"

"Yeah, I want some ice cream," Nix said, walking over.

Enterprise reached out and, without fanfare, was holding out a small bowl of ice cream, complete with spoon. It was neapolitan bright and multicolored. Nix grinned and sat on the grass next to Enterprise, near some wildflowers and a single stalk of maize. "You know, I only eat the cherry, right?"

"Oh fuckin' boo hoo," Enterprise said, smirking. "That's how they knew they were beaten, ya know. Cause we had a whole fucking ice cream ship and they didn't have shit."

Nix nodded, then scooped, popping the ice cream into her mouth. She tasted it, savored it, cocked her head. "It's good," she said, smiling. "Thank you."

"Thanks," Enterprise said. She closed her eyes. "Tell me what it tastes like."

"Hmm?"

"We spirits don't eat, and I'm two hundred years old, I get to ask."

Nix considered. "It's...a light flavor, with kind of a sharp edge to it. It started off a little tangy, but the cold mellows that out. Then once it warms up and starts...melting along your tongue, the full flavor unfolds, like...a flower." She paused. Enterprise nodded - as bees buzzed around her, momentarily confused by her bright red landing strip. They zipped off once they had determined she was no flower. Nix drew her knee up, resting her chin on it, and regarded the ship.

"Enterprise," she said, quietly. "I have a question."

"Ask away," Enterprise said.

"Why did they bring the

Yorktown

to Midway?" she asked.

"Cause we had to fight the Japanese Imperial fuckin' Navy?" Enterprise asked.

"Yeah, but you were able to conjure airplanes out of thin air," Nix said, gently. "You could do it right now. Couldn't you? The ordinance that hit Maryfort was real - those torpedoes were still there after you snapped out of your...state. If you can make ordinance-"

"Fuck, I don't know!" Enterprise exclaimed.

"No memories at all?" Nix asked.

"Shit, I...fuck!" Enterprise stood up. She started pacing. "Okay, you know what? I...I..." She paced faster now, back and forth, back and forth. "...I'm gonna say something and I want you to take it serious. I d-don't want any no 'you're being silly, Enterprise, you're just worrying over nothing', no...no fucking...pets on your head, nothing like that. Cause if I said this shit to a technician back then, they'd..." She trembled.

"They'd try and fix you, even if nothing was broken," Nix said, gently. She stirred her ice cream. Cherry, vanilla and chocolate ran together.

Enterprise nodded.

"You have my promise, Enterprise," Nix said, looking up from the bowl, into her eyes. "I will never touch you without your permission. I don't work for a government or an army. I fix machines because...the world's full of broken things. And I like seeing them whole."

Enterprise nodded, jerkily. "Okay."

Quiet started to fall throughout the forest - the faint tweeting of birds. The buzzing of insects. Off in the distance, just barely visible, the flash of brown and white fur showed a herd of deer, slipping through the forest like ghosts. Enterprise closed her eyes. She breathed in, then out. Her turbines whirred quietly.

"I don't think I'm the Enterprise," she whispered.

Nix frowned, slightly. "Do you think you're the Yorktown?"

"No," she whispered. "I don't think I'm any of the carriers. I think...I...I can make ice cream. I can make fucking ice cream. I have a hospital deck! I have...I have..." She put her hands on her face, rubbing her palms slowly. "I have

sonar

. I can feel it, bubbling in my fucking head." She hissed through her fingers. "W-What am I!? I'm not a ship or a plane or a-"

Crack.

The sound of a branch snapping jerked Nix and Enterprise - or whoever she was - away from each other and to the sound. Bright, golden-brown eyes peered from the shadows. Enterprise dropped to a crouch, hissing to Nix. "It's not human!"