Armed Class
"In fact," the commodore continued proudly, "hydraulics is also the primary technology behind our newest secret weapon, the Underwater Arrow of Epic Proportions-UAEP, for short. You can see one being loaded into the Indestructible now."
To the left of the Blowfish lay a vessel nearly twice its size, but of curious dimensions and features. It actually looked rather like two ships that had been placed deck to deck, like the two halves of a clam shell, hammered together, then covered from stem to stern and keel to keel with iron plating. Amidships, a conning tower had been built, and behind this a deck of sorts, where ropes, lines and anchors lay amongst piles of boxes and stacks of barrels. Two footrails leading forward from the deck allowed access to the bow of the ship, so that the sailors wouldn't have to navigate the sloping hull just to secure a bowline or the rigging that ran from the bow to the short mast around which the conning tower was built. From the top and bottom keels, just forward of the mast, projected two pairs of curious fan-shaped structures (not unlike fins), while at the stern, enclosed inside its D-shaped rudder, was a large six-bladed fan much like the one being installed in the belly of the Blowfish. Near the bow of the ship, below the craft's midline, there was a closed round door, shut like a great eye in sleep.
Presently, several dozen gnomes could be seen lowering, by way of an enormous, six-armed crane, a very large catapult arrow through the open hatch in the stern deck. Nearby, three other UAEPs stood in racks along the wharf, awaiting loading. One important-looking gnome wearing a white jumpsuit sat astraddle the upper keel fore of the mast, shouting directions into what appeared to be a large beer mug. Strangely enough, his voice was amplified many times by this curious device, loud enough to be heard by those standing at the top of the bluff. He directed operations with a large heavy wrench, wielding it like a conductor's baton.
"Be careful with that, you slack-jawed sons of a kender and a gully dwarf!" he shouted at the crane operators. There were six of them, one for each arm. "Numbers Two, Three, and Six, swing her a little more to starboard. Starboard, not larboard, you misbegotten spawn of an Aghar! Ahoy, beware below!" This to those gnomes employed in various tasks near the bow of the ship.
The UAEP began to swing crazily under the opposing directions of the crane's six arms, sweeping the stern deck clean of its barrels and crates and boxes. One wild gyration sent it careening through the workers at the bow, knocking more than a dozen from perches along the ship's sloping hull, which had been precarious to begin with. The remainder leaped for their lives into the sea.
"The one shouting directions is Chief Engineer Port-lost," Commodore Brigg explained, pointing out the gnome with the mugraphone and the wrench. "He's our mishaps officer."
"How… um, how do they-meaning the UAEPs-work, exactly?" the professor asked while rubbing his bearded chin.
"It's quite ingenious, actually," the commodore said. "They were invented by the Plumbers Guild, which was trying to find a way to supply water to the upper levels of Mount Nevermind. The theory was based on the old water-in-the-cheeks trick, only many times amplified. Water is pumped into a tube until the interior pressure of the tube is sufficient to launch a column of water up the central shaft of the mountain, where it is caught by a cauldron swung out from the level requiring water. Different pressures are used to reach different levels. One day, a plumber sent to work on a leaking launch tube unknowingly placed a length of filling pipe inside another launch tube while he worked on the faulty tube, not knowing that the second tube was about to be used. When they launched the water column with the length of pipe inside it, the pipe acted like a stopper. So they continued to pump more water into the tube, trying the free the obstruction. Finally, it went off like a cork from a bottle of gigglehiccup. The pipe penetrated the bottom of the cauldron, which was accidentally (but fortuitously) swung out a moment too soon to catch the water, thus inventing the UAEP and the funnel at the same time."
"Its uses as a weapon were immediately obvious, especially where there is an abundance of water-like aboard a ship," Snork added. "That's why Chief Portlost included the UAEP in the design of Indestructible. It should come in handy for battling leviathans, giant squids, velorptamanglers and whatnot."
"That's more like it! I confess, I grow more enthusiastic with such weaponry aboard. How soon do we leave?" Sir Grumdish asked. "And what am I to do with my horse, Bright Dancer?" He stroked the massive beast lovingly on the knee.
"Er… I'm sure some useful occupation can be found for your loyal warhorse here in the shipyards," Commodore Brigg answered. "And as for leaving," he added quickly, noting Sir Grumdish's look of dismay, "we don't call it "leaving" in the Maritime Sciences Guild. You can say "embark" or "set sail" or "weigh anchor" or "put to sea." "Leaving" is a lubberly verb you should break yourself of using. That goes for every and all lubbers. If you are going to be a sailor, you must learn to speak like one. Navigator Snork here will conduct remedial classes in shipboard etiquette and protocol once we are under sail."
Sir Grumdish chewed on that, while Professor Hap raised his hand, as though he were in school. "I have a question. I thought this was a submersible deepswimmer Class C, yet you keep talking about setting sail. How does one use a sail underwater?"
"One doesn't use a sail, one sets sail, and one doesn't set sail underwater at all. Unless…" the commodore's voice trailed off as his brain wheels begin to spin. "A tidal sail, employed underwater to catch the sea currents…" he muttered while fumbling at his pockets in search of a pencil.
Seeing his commander thus distracted, Navigator Snork completed his thoughts. "Indestructible is equipped with a normal step sail-you can see it there, rising from the conning tower-for use when "running on top," as we call it. We shan't always be traveling underwater. In fact, during the trip to the Blood Sea, we'll probably not submerge at all, except for drills. We'll sail on top for most of the way. Of course, Commodore Brigg has developed several improvements to the standard wind and sail design that should shorten the trip considerably."
Returning from his woolgathering, Commodore Brigg said, "So, no more questions? Good. Come. Let's go meet your fellow officers. Sir Grumdish, you can leave your armor with the crane for loading."
Sir Grumdish eyed the crane dubiously as they made their way down the bluffs. There, all manner of activity was underway. Hundreds of gnomes scurried to tasks more numerous and varied than could possibly be identified. Most seemed concerned with the loading and preparation of the Indestructible. In addition to the shipwrights, carpenters, and ironsmiths engaged in the building of the various ships, boats, and other fascinating devices of mysterious purpose, there were carters and craters, net weavers and sail hemmers, accountants and bookkeepers and counters of everything from beans to butter tubs. Crates, boxes, and barrels lined the docks awaiting loading by surly, foul-mouthed longshoregnomes. And for every gnome lifting, pushing, pulling, dragging, flinging, hoving-to, clicking-off, checking-out, battening-down and buttoning-up, there were two or three more watching, worrying, directing, misdirecting, or noting the labors of the others. Over, under, around, and on top of it all were the ever-present, watchful members of the Mishaps Guild with their clipboards and surveying equipment. Every movement, every nail hammered and cog oiled was carefully catalogued and recorded in case something unexpected happened, for better or for worse.
As Commodore Brigg led them through this hive of activity toward Indestructible's dry dock, Sir Grumdish's mechanical armor attracted its share of speculative whispers and appreciative exclamations. Behind Sir Grumdish's horse, Professor Hap-Troggensbottle and Razmous Pinchpocket compared observations, shouting so as to be heard over each other. Navigator Snork ticked off the things he still had left to do before the launch as he walked closely behind Razmous and removed the various interesting objects that unaccountably tumbled into the kender's pouches.
Busy as he was with his musings and kender thwarting, Snork barely noticed the tugging at his sleeve. Only when a brash voice said his name almost in his ear did he turn.
He found before him a younger gnome who was taller than he only by the shock of red hair standing up from the crown of his head. Red hair was most unusual in gnomes, the general rule being white hair or no hair at all, except for the obligatory beard. This one's beard was as red as his hair. The newcomer wore a leather apron and long white pullover with the emblem of the PuzzlesRiddlesEnigmasEtcetera Guild mysteriously affixed-meaning it was not sewn, stitched, embroidered, pinned, or even heat-transferred-over the right breast pocket. His gray eyes had a sort of philosophic inward stare that made him look shy, as though he were trying to avoid meeting the gaze of anyone else because he was busy solving some complex mathematical puzzle, such as trying to compute the volume of an open container. As Snork looked him over, the young gnome looked right back.