Chapter 58 - A Fickle Firearm

Roulette had spent the last twenty-four hours mulling over Mimi’s words, and perhaps inevitably, they weren’t coming any clearer in her mind. What did it mean to be a ‘Chaotic Gunslinger?’ What exactly was she capable of? Morgan had shooed them all away from the bridge before she could get any meaningful answers on that front, but now, finally–after waiting patiently for Mimi’s night shift and subsequent recovery period to be done with–the girl was available to take further questions.

It was just her luck that this long-awaited moment happened to coincide with the landing process.

“You’re going too hard on the throttle, Morgan–are you trying to kill us?” Mimi complained, watching him work the controls from behind. One hand was on her hip and the other dangled at her side, though the latter did twitch every now and then as if she were ready to seize the wheel from him at a moment’s notice. “You want to set us down like a bird, not a fucking meteor. I’m amazed we even got here in one piece the way you’ve been flying.”

Roulette could see Morgan’s jaw working, but, to his credit, he didn’t put up any resistance to Mimi’s verbal assault. He had either committed himself to concentrating on the landing or had become so numb to her abuse that he saw no point in fighting it anymore; Roulette wasn’t sure which.

She assumed it was a little of both.

“Steady. Steady. STEADY!!” Mimi braced herself as if she expected the entire vessel to implode, but Roulette detected nothing more than a slight shudder as the Skywind touched down on the beach. Morgan loosed an audible breath for the first time in what felt like minutes and lifted a hand to wipe at his forehead.

“Never, and I mean never, talk at me when I’m tryin’ to land the airship again,” he growled, spinning to confront her. “Just because you nearly made the cape in a night’s time doesn’t make you a damn expert!”

“I don’t need to be an expert to see all the things you’re doing wrong,” she replied primly. “Your ‘muscle memory’ leaves much to be desired. It may be a good idea to actually start thinking about what you’re doing here, rather than just doing.”

“Mimi, you’re bein’ a know-it-all,” Roulette interjected. Much as she may have wished to pick Mimi’s brain about Lady Luck, it wasn’t worth letting her walk all over Morgan unchecked. “We landed just fine. Get your head out of your ass.”

“THANK you,” Morgan exclaimed, waving gratefully in her direction. Mimi, however, turned on her with venom in her eyes.

“I thought we were friends.”

“We are,” Roulette confirmed. “Friends tell friends when they’re bein’ a know-it-all… And when to get their head out of their ass. It’s a service I’m happy to provide to all my friends.”

Mimi looked like she was going to argue but elected instead to simply sigh and roll her eyes. “Lucky me.”

“Are we good to go then?” Roulette asked, looking between the dysfunctional pair of pilots for affirmation. “Are we ready to set out for the base?”

“I reckon so,” Morgan answered. “Marka severed the anchor chain, so the Skywind’s as secure as it’s goin’ to get. We can head out anytime.”

“Great. Let’s get started,” she encouraged, beckoning for them to follow. “I’m sure Berry’s lookin’ forward to our big jungle adventure.”

“She’s coming?” Mimi asked. “Isn’t it a little dangerous to bring a nine-year-old along for an assassination attempt?”

Roulette spied Marka and Berry at the other end of the deck, looking off to sea. The tall, verdant trees of the jungle dominated their view to the left, but the rest of Roulette’s field of vision was taken up by an endless swath of open ocean. To the southeast, partly obscured by the trees and a couple miles distant, was the tip of the cape. Its defining feature was the great gray military complex that stood upon it:

Turu’s base.

“That’ll be up to Marka,” Roulette concluded, making to cross the deck toward their companions. “Don’t see why he’d have a problem with it after all she’s been through already, though. And who knows? Maybe she’ll find a way to fill up that water gun and save our bacon if the plan goes sour.”

Morgan snorted. “There’s a plan?”

“There will be,” she assured him. “I think best on my feet.”

The trio approached Marka from behind as he was in the midst of explaining the tides to his daughter. Apparently, the girl had some concerns about the airship getting pulled out to sea while they were gone.

“It’s fine, darlin’,” Morgan piped up, “We arrived at high tide–or close enough to it. The Skywind’ll be safe on this beach. I guarantee it.”

“But how do you know?” Beretta replied with a frown, turning from the railing to glance his way.

“Knowledge. Experience. Gut instinct. Etcetera,” he droned. “Same reasons I always know things. You’ll understand when you’re older.”

“With explanations like that, you’d make a terrible father,” Mimi observed.

“Well, it’s a good thing you’ve got no reason to worry about my skills in that area then, isn’t it?”

“We’re all ready to go, Marka,” Roulette announced, hoping to head off the possibility of another quarrel. “Will Berry be coming along too?”

Marka looked Beretta’s way, his face lined with all the telltale signs of concern. “I suppose so,” he said at length. “I can think of no other options.”

“Yay!!” Beretta cheered, plainly beyond eager to leave the airship. “Time~ to~ see~ the~ jungle!~”

“You will need to stay close to me at all times,” Marka cautioned as they all moved off toward the gangplank. “This will be very dangerous. And if we get in a fight, you must stay behind me…”

Once Morgan lowered the gangplank, the father-daughter duo moved on far enough ahead that Marka’s warnings no longer reached their ears. Seeing her chance to seize a minute or two alone with Mimi, Roulette rushed down to the beach and jogged to her side, desperate to continue their conversation from the day before.

“I was wondering when you’d come to shake me down for more answers about that gun of yours,” Mimi said smugly, gesturing for her to go on with a lazy wave of her hand. “Go ahead. I’m listening.”

“What does it mean to be a ‘Chaotic Gunslinger?’” she babbled. “What does Lady Luck actually do?”

Mimi held up a palm to silence her. “One question at a time, please,” she chided. “I already answered the first one yesterday, but let’s review, shall we? A Chaotic Gunslinger is what you get when someone with a fractious personality inherits a destined weapon from a Gunsmith. Most Gunslinger’s abilities are orderly. Reliable. They have a set behavior or theme that their weapon acts in accordance with.

“Not yours, though. Chaotic Gunslingers, as you might imagine, manifest chaos. Their abilities usually draw from multiple themes, or ‘domains’ as we Gunsmiths often call them. Life, death, fire, spirits, weather, force, space, time… Nothing is off the table. But there is usually some rhyme or reason–some order in the chaos, if you will–that determines how and when these differing domains are drawn upon.”

“And in Lady Luck’s case?” Roulette prompted, her heart beating thunderously in her chest.

“Well, let’s consider the facts, shall we?” Mimi suggested. “Up until the tournament, we had all assumed that Lady Luck could do nothing but fire weak bullets. Yet, during your fight, you produced an arcan-seeking bandage similar to the one fired by the man who accosted us in that Enfieldian tomb, and in that same tomb–according to Marka–you somehow managed to get him drunk.

“Assuming you did not, at any point, have a nice sit-down chat with him over a glass of wine, and taking into account Morgan’s recollection of your earlier battle with a Gunslinger who fired alcoholic bullets, I believe we can arrive at one definite conclusion:

“You seem to inherit the abilities of those you have fought with in the past.”

Roulette’s eyes went wide. She’d been considering that possibility already, of course, but having it reinforced by Mimi’s professional logic made it seem all the more real to her. “So I inherit an ability when it’s used against me? Are you tellin’ me I’ll be firin’ seagulls next?”

Mimi held up a finger. “Not so fast. Let me ask you something, first: of the Gunslingers you’ve done battle with, which ones landed a direct hit on you?”

Roulette thought back to her past tussles and quickly learned, based on her findings, that Mimi’s question had been an insightful one.

“...Just the bartender and the wizardling,” she breathed.

“I’d thought as much,” Mimi pridefully replied. “Based on that, we can theorize that the method of inheritance is physical touch–in essence, being shot by a Gunslinger will see you gain control over their ability. What doesn’t kill you literally makes you stronger!”

They arrived at the jungle’s edge, but Roulette could hardly bring herself to register the fact. While Marka and Berry puzzled over the nigh-impenetrable thicket ahead of them, she could only marvel at the potential–and frustrating downsides–of Lady Luck’s power. I can use any ability I come across, she mused, but I have to get shot with it? And I have no control over when it happens?

What the hell kind of ability is that?!

The sound of Marka’s gun going off roused Roulette from her bout of self-reflection. A single shot of Voidthrower had erased a perfect sphere of greenery from the path ahead of them, leaving them free to enter the jungle.

She nodded to him and moved to follow, allowing the big man and his handy weapon to lead the way as she worked to stifle a sudden flare of jealousy.