The ground crew unmoored the airship and the 686 slowly lifted away from the dock. The eight propellers spun up with a whine before building to a loud drone that would be a constant companion to the passengers for the entire trip. Ada looked out the window to watch the ground drop away from her. They passed over the port building and slowly banked to give her a view of the city skyline. Dozens of smoke stacks towered over the city, spitting out their filth. Everything looked dark and dingy. Small and pathetic. It made her feel a little ill so she looked away.
Valentine spoke. “Can't say I'm sorry to leave this place behind again. The weather has a negative influence on my health.”
“Again?” Ada asked.
“I grew up here.” The jackal admitted. He glanced at his paw and noticed a split on one of his claws. “A small town called Jonsville, a few bends down the river.” He indicated a direction with a nod out the window.
“Were you here to visit your family?”
Valentine shook his head as he ran his thumb over the damaged claw. “Alas, am without family now. My mother passed ten years hence, leaving me the last of the Valentine line.”
“I'm so sorry to hear that.” The Siamese said.
Valentine grinned and pulled out a small pocket knife. “No, you're not.” He snapped open the knife deftly and started to scrape at his claw to reshape it. “You only say that to be polite.” Ada once again started to wonder if there was someplace else to sit. The male was quite ill-mannered and now he was openly grooming himself. Unfortunately there were a number of furs still standing in the aisle and attempting to find their own place to settle. Occasionally one would happen by with intent of taking a seat next to her, but thought better of it once they noticed her companion. She couldn't help feeling jealous of their superior instincts.
Valentine continued to speak. “I came back to attend the funeral of an acquaintance of mine.” He pointed the knife at her warningly. “Don't bother offering your condolences, I loathed the gentlemale.”
The Siamese happened to notice a crew member trying to make her way up the aisle with a cart. She wasn't making much headway. It annoyed Ada since she could use something to calm her.
“You're a very queer person, Mr. Valentine.” She said. If he wasn't going to be civil there was little reason for her to be. “For what reason would you risk travel for someone you care so little for?”
The jackal chuckled. “To gloat, mostly. He had expressed interest in dancing upon my grave so I considered it only fitting that I do so on his.”
Ada was taken aback. “That's terribly vulgar. Someone in your position, have you no fear for your soul?”
Valentine shrugged as he examined his handiwork on the claw. Satisfied, he closed the knife and put it back into his pocket. “I have never been one to conserve anything that has been rationed to me, be it money, time, or even my soul. Besides, securing a position in paradise requires conscious and daily effort, even then you may never--”
He was caught by a surprise fit of coughing. He pulled his open coat over his maw to cover it as he fished for his pawkerchief. It was horrible cough accompanied by a heavy, dry wheezing in his lungs. It drew the worrying attention of the other passengers who looked to Ada as if some fault could be lain on her. It took several moments for Valentine to compose himself.
“Facilis descensus averno.” He said hoarsely. He saw her unfamiliarity with the phrase and clarified: "Going to hell is easy." He coughed one more time before wiping his maw and stuffing the kerchief in his pocket. The feline couldn't help notice there were fresh flecks of blood on it. “In fact, we're going there right now.”
“I don't follow.” Ada said.
“Our second stop is near the town of New Gehenna.” The jackal explained. “A mining town in the desert with an unfortunate name. There has been a bit of a boom there, attracting gamblers, prostitutes, and the like. Considering how often folks implore I go to hell, it's only fitting I take up residence there.”
“That sounds like a dreadful place.” Ada spoke with disgust.
Valentine smiled. “I certainly hope so.”
A clatter of a cart disrupted the conversation. The crew member had finally managed to make it to their booth. She was a young whitetail doe dressed sharply in a blue uniform. She regarded the two with a pleasant smile that waned slightly when she took notice of the sickly jackal. Still, she was professional enough not to let it disappear.
“Would you like me to put up your luggage, ma'am?” She asked.
Ada realized she was still clutching a bag on her lap and her second one was still on the floor. “Yes, please.” With a nod the doe took the bags and slid them overhead.
“Thank you.” The feline said. It was nice to have someone finally do something for her.
“Care for anything to drink?” The stewardess offered.
“Have you any wine?” Ada asked. “It would do my nerves good.”
“Of course, ma'am” The doe replied as she searched through her cart. She found an already opened wine bottle and filled a cheap stemmed glass halfway before handing it to the feline. She turned to Valentine. “Anything for you, sir?”
“Whiskey.” He insisted and offered Ada a wink. “My nerves, you see.”
Ada tried her best not to bristle at Valentine's slight and the jackal took delight in her attempt. She turned away and looked out the window, determined not to give him the satisfaction of seeing her angry. She took a sip of the wine. It was an atrocious, low quality drink, but it was still wine.
“No, no, my dear,” Valentine said to the stewardess who was attempting to pour him a small glass of whiskey, “the bottle will be sufficient.” The young doe nodded and passed the bottle to him. In turn Valentine pass her a silver dollar. When she took it the jackal grasped her hoof tightly in his paw. The young stewardess' professional smile finally disappeared.
“I trust this will cover the young lady as well,” he stoked her wrist in an unsettling way. “not to mention a little left over for yourself?”
The stewardess pulled her hoof back. “More than enough, sir.” She she said while trying, but failing, to regain her professionalism. Even if hadn't been sufficient she hardly appeared about to complain. Valentine had thoroughly spooked the young doe. She gathered her cart and quickly shoved it down the aisle.
The jackal chuckled to himself as he watched her attempt to hurry away, only to be waylaid by a passenger as she pushed through the curtain that separated this part of the ship from the sleeping quarters. She gave a nervous glance back at him as she tried her best to attend to the passenger.
“Do you always make such such a scene?” Ada asked him. She wasn't going to thank him for the wine, even if she did find herself in a situation where she needed the charity.
“Not always.” He said as he popped the stopper off the bottle and took a swig. “But often.”
Ada returned her gaze out the window as she sipped at the wine. The airship had managed a cruising altitude. Making everything small and faraway below them. A wide expanse of treetops and fields. Only a few miles outside of the city and the world looked decidedly rural. Soon it would start to look wild and untamed. From an airship one could appreciate how vast and and uninhabited the continent really was despite the large modern cities of the east.
“Moragon.” The jackal spoke. Not directly to her, but in a musing voice. Even so her family name drew her attention back to him.
“That wouldn't happen to be of the Charles Moragon family, would it?” He asked her.
“Yes.” She told him. “Charles Moragon is my father.” It wasn't unexpected that Valentine would know of him. Her father had been a prominent businessman known far and wide. Respected and admired. At least until the more recent legal troubles that had garnered so much press.
“Interesting.” Valentine said with another drink from the bottle. “What gets the princess of a business mogul onto an airship bound for the savage lands of the west?”
Her father was hardly a “mogul” anymore, but she got a sense that Valentine had spoken ironically. “I am to meet my fiancee for our wedding.”
“Ah, the princess is to meet her prince.” Valentine spoke. “Must be a fine chap indeed that you would chance such a venture alone.”
Ada took another drink of her wine. She hardly wanted to discuss her personal dealings with this male. What's more she disliked the stinging reminder that she had been allowed on such a journey without even the barest of comforts. Looking to change the subject she was drawn to his faded military garb.
“Were you a soldier during the war, Mr. Valentine?” She asked.
The jackal nodded. “I had attended many battles during the war, but my specialty was pulling bullets out of soldiers as opposed to putting them in.”
“You are a surgeon?” There was a bit more astonishment in her voice than was polite. Her companion appeared to make note of the offense without taking any. He coughed into his kerchief and nodded.
“I was at one time.” The jackal corrected. “I had chosen to specialize in inter-cranial medical procedure. Then the war rudely intervened and I was pressed into serving my country with a task far beneath my skill set. It is wholly improper to call what we did “surgery”. “Butchery” would suit it better. Military medicine tends to lag behind conventional medicine, and expediency takes precedence when patients arrive as fast as the guns can be loaded.” A fox with a missing leg and a wooden crutch hobbled by their booth. The jackal glanced at him, then back to her. There was a sinister gleam of amusement in his jaundiced eyes.
“Our handiwork is quite readily visible to this day.” He explained with a grin that was shockingly absent of any shame before bursting into another coughing fit.
The Siamese felt a bit of sickness in her stomach as she watched the lame fox make his way painfully down the aisle. Such reminders of the horrors the country had faced were not foreign to her, but they were so disproportionately evident among the more common fur. She took another drink of wine, finishing the glass off, but it did little to settle the ill feeling.
“Inter-cranial...” She mulled over the phrase. “You were a brain surgeon?”
Valentine nodded as he wiped his maw with the kerchief. “In another life, yes.”
“What happened?”
Valentine stuffed the kerchief away before holding out his paw. It trembled slightly. “This happened.” He explained. “Not to mention patients don't much care for it if you cough into their open skull.”
“What do you do now?” Ada asked.
“I gamble, mostly.” Valentine admitted. “Occasionally I hunt when I'm forced to.” He rubbed his jaw and chuckled to himself. If there had been a joke there Ada had missed it.
“Do you play, Miss Moragon?” The jackal asked as he produced a deck of cards from his jacket.
“No.” She told him. “I'm afraid I don't.”
“Would you like to learn?” When he took note of her doubtful expression he added. “We don't have to play for money, we can just play to pass the time.”
“Very well.” Ada agreed. Almost immediately she regretted that decision as the jackal switched his seat to take a place next to her.
“Excellent.” He said as he started to shuffle the cards. “Since you're inexperienced we'll begin with something simple. Five-card stud.” Despite the trembling paw he had displayed to her, they were still nimble. Shuffling the cards in an almost hypnotic way. Like a juggler or a magician. Since there was no table for them, he dealt the cards onto the bench across from them. Two for each of them. One up. One down. A four of clubs for Ada and a jack of hearts for Valentine were showing.
“This here is your hole card.” He explained pointing to the down card. “That one the table isn't privy to. Just you. Since we're playing to learn we'll turn them over anyway.” He did so revealing that Ada had a four of spades to match her four of clubs, while Valentine only had a two of clubs with his jack of hearts.
“As far as the table is concerned, I have the stronger paw.” He explained. “If we were playing with a bring-in than you would have to start the betting as the lowest paw, if not than I would start with the highest paw.” He turned the two hole cards back over to hide them.
“Bring-in?” She asked.
“It obliges one to put some money at risk just for receiving cards.” He said. “So a fellow doesn't spend all night folding and taking up table space. Most saloon games will have a bring-in of at least a penny.”
“Ah.”
“Let's assume the bring-in is a dollar.” Valentine said. “Since we're high-rollers, you and I.”
Despite herself Ada smirked at the assertion. “Alright. I bet... five dollars.”
Valentine nodded. “In that case, I would fold. Since I would assume rightly that you already have a pair. Even if you don't, I lose nothing to fold and my paw isn't very strong anyway. You win the paw, but how much money did you win?”
“I get my five dollars back.” Ada said. “So I won nothing.”
“Exactly.” The jackal told her before turning his head to cough a bit. “You need me to get into the pot in order to make anything off me. You must be careful though. We each have three more cards to go and my chance of matching the jack is better than your chance of improving your paw even if you disregard my two, which you don't know I have.”
Ada though about it for a moment. “So if I just put in the dollar... you'll probably do the same.”
Valentine offered her an impressed expression. “Precisely. Not only that, but you've given up no information about your paw since you had to bet the dollar anyway. In fact, I might even assume your paw is so bad that you would let that dollar go without much of a fuss. At this point I might bet an additional five dollars to see if you fold.”
“Which I would match.” Ada said.
“Or possibly even raise.” The jackal suggested. “Which would put me in a terrible spot. Still, calling is a safe bet. That would give us twelve dollars in the pot and I'm behind.”
He pulled a card from the deck and set it aside. “We burn that one.” He then dealt a third card face up for each of them. “This card is called third street. An eight of harts for you and a queen of diamonds for me. Right now I'm in a bit of a jam. I have the best paw showing so I have to bet first, but I know you matched me with only that four showing. The eight doesn't help you, but if you have a pair of fours I may be in trouble. Even so, I have two face cards showing and two more cards to come to match them. I'm going to play it safe and check the bet to you. To which you, of course--”
“Bet two more dollars.” Ada said proudly.
“Interesting bet.” Valentine admitted. “More than I want to pay, yet I still want to see the next card. I already have six dollars committed and I don't want to give it to you for just two dollars. I'll let you string me along. Now we have sixteen in the pot.”
He burned another card. “Now fourth street.” He said as he flipped a four of diamonds over for Ada and a queen of spades for himself. Ada clasped her paws together in delight.
“Look at that.” He said. “I'm in some trouble here. I still have the best paw showing so I'm still betting first. Right now I'm wondering if you really did have a pair of fours to start out with. The chances that you have three in your paw right now is really low. Maybe you had an ace in your hole and you were riding on that. Your last bet was very weak after all. Not to mention now I have my own pair showing. I decide I need to make a move. I'll bet ten.”
“I'll, uh...” Ada pointed upward.
“Raise?”
“Yes. Ten more.”
“There's a lot of money piling up now. I do have a pair and I'm not ashamed to admit I'm a bit greedy. I'll call, making the pot fifty-six.” He burned another card and dealt the fifth street. “Last card for each of us.” A nine of diamonds for Ada and a Jack of clubs for himself.
“I have two pair showing now to your pair of fours.” Valentine said. “I'm feeling really good about my paw now, and I'm almost positive you don't have a four in the hole. I'll bet fifty more.”
“Does three fours beat two pair?” She asked.
“Absolutely.” The jackal confirmed.
“I'll raise,” Ada said, “one-hundred.”
“Rich blood for the rich girl.” The jackal said. “I'll call. Pot is three-hundred fifty-six.”
She turned over her hole card to show the three-of-a-kind. “So you lose.”
“Did I?” The jackal asked with a sly grin. He turned over his hole to reveal a queen of hearts and a full house.
Ada looked confused for a moment. “That was a two before.” She said.
“No.” He explained as he gathered up the cards and started to shuffle them. “I merely adjusted the odds in my favor.”
“You cheated.” She said again. Trying to recall when he had had a chance to switch a card that had clearly been in front of her the entire time.
“If you insist on being technical, yes, I cheated.” He held up the deck. “Care to try again? Maybe you can catch me this time.”
Ada agreed. He went through the entire deal again as before, explaining the strategy as he went. The feline barely paid him much attention as she was keeping a close watch on his hole card. She did have enough sense not to allow the pot to get quite as high as before, but it was still over sixty dollars when the betting was done. When he finally flipped his card over she noticed that it hadn't changed this time. The seven of clubs had remained a seven of clubs. A fact she pointed out to him with a degree of pride.
“You have a good eye, my dear.” He told her. “Now if you would be so kind as to turn over your hole card?”
Ada flipped over her card. To her dismay an ace of diamonds had somehow turned into a five of clubs. She had lost the paw again.
“How did you do that?” She asked.
Valentine shrugged. “I cheated.”
They continued for a while. Valentine went on to explain the nuances of gambling, betting, and occasionally cheating. They discussed five-card stud mostly, the jackal telling her it was the most popular and common form of gambling available, but touched on baccarat and blackjack as well. Ada found the conversation more compelling than she had expected. A look into the seedy underside of a world she had been sheltered from. There was more to gambling than simple luck. Valentine had strategies for breaking a cool player, and taking advantage of a hot one. How to make a confident player uncertain, and an uncertain one downright fitful. How to get into a players head and how to recognize when they're getting into yours. How to spot a bluff and how to avoid a trap. The game, it seems, was almost more about the players than the cards. While luck did play a big part, it's influence could be reduced. The jackal took occasional drinks from the whiskey while they talked. The more he did the more his cough seemed to ease, and Ada started to understand why he had a tendency toward hard liqueur.
They were halfway through yet another hand when a male stepped up to the booth. Without even waiting for an invite he sat down right on their cards, scattering them to the floor.
“Oh!” Ada let out at the intrusion. The male was a burly figure dressed in dusty brown attire suitable for field work. He was a timber wolf. Tall and powerful looking. Like Valentine, he had a weapon on his hip. A proper revolver. Doubtlessly it was also clasped and unloaded, but it was difficult to tell in its holster.
“Ma'am.” The wolf spoke to Ada with a tip of his dirty brown hat. She couldn't help notice a fearsome pink, furless scar on the side of his face, from the jaw almost up to the ear. The scar made him look like he was grimacing on one side and it appeared to still be in the process of healing. Not a new injury but a recent one. He was a terrifying male and his presence made her fur start to stand on end in agitation.
“Is this cur bothering you?” The wolf asked without really seeming to direct the statement at her.
“I'm sorry?” Ada spoke, giving a sideways glance to Valentine. The jackal regarded the wolf with a mild grin, but his eyes burned harshly. At first she mistook it for rage, but realized that it was actually excitement. Valentine looked more alive than he had seemed previously.
The wolf sat back in the booth and crossed his arms. “Doc Valentine.” He said simply to the jackal, purposefully mispronouncing it. His voice was drooling with loath.
Valentine grinned wider. “Why, Jack. I hardly recognized you. Did you get a new hat?”
The wolf's eyes narrowed at him. “Don't push me, Valentine. If the young female weren't present I'd already be chokin' the life out of you.”
“How untoward of me.” Valentine said. “Miss Moragon, allow me to introduce a dear friend of mine, Mr. Jack Tallan. Or as he's better known; Riverboat Jack. An ironic name, as you can clearly see he never goes near the water. This is the gentlemale who's funeral I had come to attend.”
“But... he's not dead.” Ada said in a low voice.
“An irritating fact that did not escape me.” Valentine spoke, but not to her. “It's rather rude to be tardy for your own funeral, wouldn't you say?”
Jack gave a humorless chuckle and he leaned forward. With a low voice he grumbled. “Yuck it up all ya want, Valentine. We both know you're not gettin' off this ship alive.”
Valentine leaned forward as well. “You're going to have to do better than that, Jack. These days I hardly expect to make it to the washroom alive.”
The wolf grunted at him before turning to Ada. He tipped his hat again. “Apologies, ma'am, but I suggest you be more careful of the company you keep. Doc here is the worst type of company.” With that he walked away. He approached a second wolf further up the cabin and whispered something to him, they both looked back at Valentine before finding their seats.
“Pay them no mind.” The jackal told Ada. “They're only biding their time.”
“Does he really intend to kill you?” The Siamese asked, rubbing her arm in an attempt to flatten the agitated fur.
“I'd be insulted if he didn't try.” Valentine said as he started to gather his scattered cards. Slipping off the seat to reach under and collect them.
"But, why does he want to kill you?" She insisted.
"Because he has to. Because his honor demands it." The Jackal said as he fanned out the cards in his hand and realized he was still missing one. He looked up at her and grinned. "But mostly because I killed his brother and beautified half his face with a shotgun."
So he was a murderer! To admit it so casually, and with no remorse! “What chance do you have against the two of them in your condition?” She lifted one of her boots to allow him to get the last card from under her.
“My dear, there are four of them.” The jackal corrected as he sat back onto the seat and started to shuffle the cards. “The other wolf is Jack's cousin, Jason Andes. Three rows up there's a dapper fellow who goes by the handle of Bootknife Bill. Across from him is the native Wild Joe.”
Ada craned her neck and noticed a tawny mountain lion with ridged features among all the faces. He wore a flat brimmed hat with several feathers poking from the band. With him was seated an otter wearing a crisp looking bowler hat and a pair of gold spectacles. The latter happened to catch her gaze and offered a polite grin and hat tip. Ada looked away, embarrassed to have been caught gawking.
“What are you going to do?” She asked him.
“Nothing.” Valentine said as he shuffled the cards. “It's their bet and I can't fold.”
Promised to a rich businessman, Ada must travel across the continent to the untamed western land in an airship. Accustomed to a life of privilege and wealth, the young Siamese cat is thrust into an uncomfortable glimpse of the commoner. To make matters worse, she finds herself in the company of a gun toting jackal with a fatal disease and a sinister grin.
