Phoenix Rising Read Free Page A

would be used to grab and steer the salvage.
    The crew parted in the passageway, forming a human tunnel towards the boiler-room hatch. Toby ran, ignoring the gob of phlegm that Crocker hocked after him.
    When he arrived at the hatch, Toby took a last breath of fresh air, spun the wheel, pulled the door open and jumpedinside. He shot one hand out to catch the top of the ladder, his feet curved for the rungs and with barely a jolt he was climbing downwards.
    “I wish you wouldn’t do that,” Polly muttered.
    Toby grinned. He was one floor nearer to the boiler room and on the same level as the captain’s ward room and the galley. He hopped from the ladder and looked along the passageway, checking it was empty before he ran full tilt.
    The passage was empty – the whole crew, fifty in total, were on salvage duty. Feet echoing in the hollow silence, Toby raced towards the second ladder, slipped the arches of his feet around the outside and slid down.
    On his shoulder Polly spread her wings and slowed him enough that his toes touched down almost gently. She nipped his ear and flew down the passageway ahead of him. Toby sprinted after her.

TWO
    The heat inside the boiler room hit Toby the moment he entered. Air from the huge forced-draught fans hammered at his face and he groped for the goggles that hung by the door.
    Back on his shoulder, Polly hunched and muttered crossly as superheated steam whistled through the supply pipes and soot billowed out, settling on everything in sight. The boiler room was filled with the remains of old kitchens, desks, chairs – anything remotely flammable that Simeon, Theo and the others dragged from the salt to feed the combustion chamber – and it was all black.
    It still amazed Toby that valuable combustibles had once been considered worthless. They had been tossed into the vast, floating rubbish dumps that broke apart when the supervolcano eruption triggered a chain of tsunamis and polluted the whole sea. Not that anyone cared about the sea, when the sun had vanished.
    “It’s not that bad, Polly, stop whining.” Toby tightened his goggles and focused on the boiler that had been repurposed by Captain Ford to run on burning junk.
    “What’s that supposed to mean?” Polly squawked, outraged.
    Toby responded to Polly’s scandalized sputter with a smile but, as he checked the feed water level, it vanished. “Look at the water level, Pol. The gauge glass is only half full.” Toby cocked his head as he listened to the chug of the boiler drum. “What do you think Harry was doing down here while it was my turn up in the crow’s nest? Having a kip, probably.”
    “He’s got a lazy streak. I’ll mention it to the captain next time I’m uploading his log.” Polly hopped from Toby’s shoulder to her perch above the attemperator.
    The main job of the boiler was to make high-pressure steam that could then be used to power the paddles, heat the oven, operate the pumps and cutters in the wreck room and warm the ship. The steam from the boiler travelled through the coils of a superheater, which dried it out. The attemperator was used to make sure the dry steam remained at the right temperature and Polly preferred to roost above it, where she was sheltered from the fans.
    Below Polly the attemperator was quietly ticking.
    “You hear that, Pol?”
    “Can’t hear anything above the banging and clanking – infernal racket.” Still she tilted her head.
    The attemperator’s sound was a sour note in the boiler’s usual melody. Toby ran his eye over the gauges. Everything seemed all right. Pulling his spanner from his tool belt, Toby tightened two bolts and listened again. The ticking had quietened.
    “That’s better.” Polly nodded. “Good ears.”
    Toby tucked his screwdriver under his arm as Polly pointed a claw towards the control panel.
    “You’d better divert the power from the turbines—”
    “To the pumps, I know.” Like a pianist Toby ran his fingers over the control