Arachnodactyl Read Online Free PDF Page A

clever, and may I say, brought up in a fine manner; quiet and raised with a respect for authority sorely lacking in the character of today’s youth. Precisely the kind of young man I need to round out my crew. And certainly the kind of young man who would respect the wishes of his father, should his father command him to change his mind.”
    Ikey’s dad flicked the reins. The mare shook her head. Ikey swallowed. His grip on the tarpaulin loosened. If his dad told him to go, he’d have no choice. Ikey glanced to Smith. A bolus of smoke leaked past his lips. It swirled into eddies and was shredded into nothing by the falling rain.
    “I don’t need your favors,” Ikey’s dad said.
    “No,” Admiral Daughton said, “most certainly not. I can see plain as the nose on my face that you are a man of self-reliance. A true Englishman. But it would be a pity to see such a man taken under by circumstances beyond his control. I hear that the Ministry of Defense will shortly be looking over this area for young men who have come of age. He shall receive his call-up when they do. May even be mere weeks ahead.”
    “I don’t care for blackmail, sir.”
    “Neither do I,” Admiral Daughton said. “Do not mistake my offer as an attempt at blackmail, my good man. It is just how things are. It is the English way: a stout resolve to do those things that must be done.”
    Silence fell over the cart. Ikey turned his attention to the road behind them. Dare he ask Admiral Daughton to bring along Uncle Michael as well? Or perhaps he might jump from the cart without warning, run back to the farm, suit Uncle Michael up in the harness and stagger off, somewhere, head for Leyburn or someplace else. They could get work fixing things. And they could hide from his call-up, avoid it like he avoided his dad when his face glowed red, jaw jacked up tight, fists clenched into rocks.
    Uncle Michael would never agree.
    “Ah! There she is,” Admiral Daughton called out.
    Ahead of them, the back end of a steam carriage appeared around a curve in the road. It sat with a front wheel buried in the ditch, a rear wheel cocked up over the road.
    Ikey struggled to his knees to get a better look at the vehicle. He’d seen steam carriages from a distance, but never up close. The admiral’s appeared to be a type of Clarence carriage, but without the horses, of course. The whole thing appeared longer than a Brougham, with the cab extended out past the passenger compartment. Atop the rear of the carriage protruded, a thin, delicate funnel.
    Once they drew up to the carriage, Ikey’s dad bade him crawl underneath it and secure a chain. Meanwhile, Smith filled the boiler with fresh coal and kindling and struck a fire. A short while later, as Admiral Daughton watched from a post on the opposite side of the road, Smith climbed into the coachman’s seat while Ikey’s dad readied himself with the mare’s bridle in one hand, a short whip in the other.
    “Ikey,” he called out to his son. “Get around front there and push. Put your back into it, right?”
    Ikey nodded, glanced to the admiral, then climbed into the ditch and braced himself against the vehicle. As he stood at the ready, he marveled at the bristle of levers arranged before the box. As Smith began to shove and pull on a variety of them, the carriage roared to life with an ear-splitting thunder.
    The horse shrieked behind them. The carriage rocked back as the horse startled and strained against her harness.
    “Go, for the Lord’s sake!” Admiral Daughton bellowed. “Out with her!”
    Smith gave a half salute, then redoubled his attention to the levers. The carriage chugged like a locomotive.The wheels spun in the mud. Ikey heaved himself against the front of the carriage, bracing a shoulder below the dash board. He pushed with all his might. The men yelled at each other. Ikey gritted his teeth, pressed with his legs, pushed with his knees. The urge to scream welled in his belly, pressed against his