When he was satisfied that the gears and cranks and chains and presses were all working properly, he went to one of the sacks on the floor and pulled out a large handful of cashews, which had been stripped of their poisonous fruit by a few Necessaries in the Ancients Sector who were scheduled to die soon anyway.

Aaron carried the nuts to one end of the contraption and loaded them into the hopper—a metal box with a small hole at the bottom. The nuts dropped through the hole, went down a chute, and landed neatly on a conveyor belt. Aaron turned the crank, which made the conveyor belt move so that the nuts coming out of the chute landed a few inches apart from each other. From the belt, the nuts dropped into a circular container with a mesh bottom and a thick metal lid. The lid dropped on top of a few nuts and pressed down. Aaron turned the crank harder, intently watching the circular container as the nuts were smashed to a pulp. After a long minute, a small, cloudy drop of liquid fell onto the desk below.

Aaron stared at the drop. He let go of the crank and rushed over to the other side of the desk to look at it more closely. He reached his finger out to wipe it up, and gently rubbed it between his finger and thumb. It was silky smooth.

“It works!” he cried. “It works! Liam, come and see!”

Aaron heard feet pounding on the stairs and sliding in the hallway, and soon a wild-haired Liam, who looked like he’d been grabbing a quick nap, poked his head in the doorway of Aaron’s office.

“Come in, come in,” Aaron said impatiently. “You have to see this.”

Liam came closer.

Aaron pulled the cashew pulp out of the circular mesh container and popped it into his mouth. “Hmm,” he said, chewing. The nuts tasted like dirt, but they were still edible. Another bonus! He’d feed the remains of his project to the Necessaries, and there would be no waste.

“Now watch,” he said. He turned the crank. The next nut dropped out of the hopper, went down the chute, and landed on the conveyor belt. And then the next one did the same. They moved along until one by one they were deposited into the mesh container. Aaron kept cranking. The thick metal lid dropped down on top of the nuts and pressed down hard.

“Watch over there!” Aaron cried, pointing.

Liam watched.

This time a larger cloudy drop of oil splattered onto the desk below.

“Touch it,” Aaron commanded.

Liam obeyed. His hand darted out and he swiped at the drop of oil. He held it to his nose and inhaled. “It’s great!” he exclaimed, not sure what he was actually supposed to be feeling.

“Yes, I know! It’s perfect!”

Liam nearly began to laugh, somehow overjoyed by Aaron’s enthusiasm. He’d never seen the high priest so . . . so passionate about something before. “Absolutely perfect,” Liam said, beaming. “You did it!”

Aaron grinned back. It felt so good. He’d done it! He’d seen a picture in his head, and he’d built each and every part of it himself, and now here it was, running smoothly and perfectly right before his eyes. After weeks of hard work, he finally had something to show for it. His insides were alive. Success! It felt . . . it felt . . .

The smile faded from Aaron’s face. It felt.

Liam noticed, of course. “What’s wrong?”

Aaron stared at Liam, wild-eyed, quickly controlling his expression like he’d always done—or always tried to do, at least in the presence of others. “Nothing,” he said. He dropped his eyes, pretending to be checking something.

Liam bit his lip, uncertain as to what was happening, but he thought he knew. He felt a strange wave of fatherly warmth come over him for the troubled young man, and even though he knew he could be punished for it, he said softly, “You built a terrific machine, Aaron. It’s okay to be proud of it.”

In the past, Aaron might have sent such an insolent person to the Ancients Sector. But something uncontrollable inside him longed for Liam to be right.

The high priest swallowed hard and didn’t look up. When he spoke, his voice was thick. “Help me move this contraption to Justine’s old meeting room. Then round up a team of guards to run the crank round the clock. The sooner we can press a few barrels of oil, the sooner we can team up with the Quillitary. And finally we’ll be able to take over Artimé.”

Slowly but Surely

During the hurricane hours, Alex abandoned the loom since Sky was so much faster at making the flying carpet components, and instead he went back to the preserve spell components, which would seal the new material to the existing ship and keep the vessel from taking on water. It would also help prevent the ship from breaking up again. Alex wished more than once that he’d thought to use the preserve spell on the ship before sailing it. Most often he thought it late at night, when his shoulders and head ached from concentrating so hard on instilling the rubber cement balls with magic. It was a painstaking job.

Little by little during the short time each day that the Artiméans could work outside, the ship became whole again. It was quite an odd sight, like a patchwork quilt, with pieces of a dozen different ships holding the original ship together. Each shipwreck they borrowed from had its own unique style, color, and materials. And while most of the wrecks had few treasures left inside, the Artiméans occasionally scored something useful. From the ship that had carried the military vehicles, Crow found a case of frying pans and dozens of mess kits and utensils. From a different wreck, Sky and Ms. Octavia recovered a crate full of fabric and sewing supplies. And when Florence had a free moment to spare, she went after the giant instrument that Alex had spotted just outside the scientists’ shipwreck. She wrestled it to shore and dragged it back to the shelter for Ishibashi, Ito, and Sato, whose eyes shone with gratitude.