999 was feeling charitable this evening. That was what she told herself at least. The conversation she’d overheard on Christmas Day had left her with a disquieted feeling and after some cursory introspection, she’d decided it was merely residual Christmas spirit compelling her to do a good deed. Seeing Pioneer and Pilot finally – finally – together… 999 wouldn’t go so far as to say it was U-505’s interference that closed the deal (submarines were inelegant shunters), but it made one feel very generous with one’s yardmates.
It would be a favor to 727 though. If the U-boat benefited too, then that was neither here nor there.
999 felt a lot less nonchalant about it when she found herself having to actively look for U-505. He wasn’t suspended on his rollers outside, much to her annoyance and yet also to her relief. It meant she’d have to track him down and who could guess where he lurked when he wasn’t in his designated space. If he was a prisoner of war, she thought, then he ought to stay where he was expected. It would be a lot less obvious though that she was seeking him out if he wasn’t outside where the only thing she could possibly be out there looking for was him.
She tried the Ships Gallery first. She thought maybe U-505 hid among the other boats, even if they were only models. That he was not there proved this to be a silly idea. 999 didn’t beat herself about it though; certainly she wasn’t in any sort of practice when it came to thinking like the submarine. She tried the Whispering Gallery next; U-505 liked when things were dark and quiet, she thought. Jenny and Texaco had claimed the gallery for the night though and were giggling back and forth to each other into the parabolic dishes. 999 tried Prenatal Development on the same logic, but realized the folly of this thought when she stood before the array of embryos and fetuses with no submarine among them. So it went with every possible place she could think of, based on every tenuous thread of reasoning: the Jolly Ball, the corn room in Farm Tech, the Baby Chick Hatchery. She had a bolt of inspiration to look in the Nickelodeon Theatre, remembering that he sometimes went there with Pioneer, but U-505 was nowhere to be found.
Frustrated with how much effort this was turning out to take, 999 huffed back to the Transportation Gallery. Maybe U-505 was looming over the model trains.
He wasn’t, of course. The Rocket, 40B, Stuka, and Spitfire were there, gathered around The Rocket’s spot in the hall. The Rocket and 40B were watching as Stuka and Spitfire took turns punching each other in the arm as hard as they could to see who would beg off first.
“The submarine certainly makes himself scarce after closing, doesn’t he?” 999 remarked aloud to no one in particular.
“He likes to be alone after work,” Spitfire said, flexing his bicep and steeling himself for Stuka’s next throw.
“He’s alone all day during work,” 999 said. She rolled her eyes both at the excuse and Spitfire’s grunt of endurance that followed it.
“You know his day is longer,” The Rocket pointed out. Spitfire shook out his arm and reared back to return fire. “He’s not exactly being admired by the guests.”
“He used to spend months at a time with people,” 999 disputed. Stuka hissed at Spitfire’s sharp jab and rolled his shoulder a couple times to ease out the sting.
“With his crew, who I expect quite liked him.” Stuka pulled back and threw his punch, heavy and on target, in the exact same place he’d landed his last sixteen punches.
“What are you, his best friend now?” Gritting his teeth and grunting, Spitfire focused on ignoring the broad, dull pain and gathering the will to punch again.
“Is there a reason you’re so concerned about him?” The Rocket countered. Another of Spitfire’s pointed jabs dug into Stuka’s arm.
999 scoffed. “No.”
Stuka, after much visible and exaggerated deliberation, held up his hand and gave up. 40B offered a polite golf clap for another Allied victory, though 999 thought he would have done the same if Stuka had won.
“Great show, boys,” The Rocket congratulated. “All right, 40B, you’re up! Reigning champ goes first.”
“What? No!” 40B’s face fell as Spitfire grinned and readied another punch. 40B flinched and braced himself for impact. Spitfire’s fist shot out… and landed a light tap on 40B’s arm.
The Rocket and the warplanes laughed and 40B let out a nervous chuckle himself, once he’d confirmed no one actually wanted to fight him. 999 decided then that maybe U-505 had the right idea about being alone.
—
When 999 wanted to be alone, she went to the Fairy Castle exhibit. Most engines had little interest in the grand dollhouse. Truthfully, 999 didn’t either. She liked the sparkly pieces; they reminded her of Worlds Fairs and the variety of curiosities on display at them. The castle itself wasn’t grounded in any sort of reality she knew though so she didn’t understand the point of it. That no one else did either meant one could expect their solitude in the dollhouse’s room.
“Nmr. 999?”
999 peeked around the side of the dollhouse to see U-505 standing on the threshold of the room. It’d been a while since she really looked at him. While she and Pioneer had been refurbished and even 2903 had been placed in a shed, at least halting his deterioration, U-505 looked more weather-worn and threadbare than she’d ever seen him. 999 truly couldn’t fathom what 727 found so attractive about him.
“Stuka believes you are looking for me,” he explained himself.
“Just a little plane flight of fancy,” 999 denied. “They get an idea and take off with it.”
“Understood.” U-505 made to leave.
“But as long as you’re here-” 999 piped up, to which U-505 paused. “What are you playing at, turning down 727?”
U-505 turned back at that.
“Say again?” he asked.
“Isn’t there something in your prize rules that say you have to accept if an American wants you?”
U-505 clearly hadn’t expected that question at all, but if 999 had the element of surprise on her side, he didn’t seem unsettled by it. He looked as though he’d wandered into a minefield and was cautiously picking his path through, a situation not exactly out of his wheelhouse.
“No,” he finally settled on. “Prize rules are for capturing parties only.”
“What about whatever rules Stuka and Spitfire have then?”
U-505’s face took a stony cast. “They do not observe those rules. Stuka does not think he was captured. And he is not a boat.”
“But he still had let Spitfire have him?”
“Stuka could have ignored him,” U-505 grumbled.
“Is that what you’re doing with 727? Ignoring her?” 999 pecked.
“…I do not ignore 727.”
“Then why are you turning her away?” 999 barraged. “If you’re not ignoring her, then you have to let her have you, right? Because you were captured. There’s no two ways about that. Stuka’s maybe got a case to argue, but you don’t. And you are a boat, whatever that has to do with it.”
U-505 took this assault in with undivided attention, then regarded 999 carefully.
“727,” he said, “should be with someone more like her.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” 999 demanded.
“She should choose someone more respectable,” he explained. “She has an admirable service record. She’s been refurbished.” At this he shifted uncomfortably and crossed his arms. “You could take her to the railway museum. There is someone for her there maybe.”
999 rolled her eyes. “You think I didn’t suggest that? She doesn’t want some ancient piece of rolling stock. She doesn’t want long distance either, for that matter. She doesn’t want to sit around waiting to trek out to Union once a month,” 999 explained, only letting a little of her own distaste for that arrangement creep in. “She wants something that’s here and something that’s hers.”
U-505’s eyebrows pricked up briefly, but his face otherwise remained impassive.
“The selection’s getting slim around here though. It’s either you or the Gondola,” 999 concluded. U-505 snorted and 999 found herself feeling some kind of way at having said something he found amusing. Still, he shook his head.
“The Gondola deserves her more,” U-505 said.
The U-boat’s mopey self-deprecation was so frustrating! 999 wheeshed out her aggravation with it, nearly knocking her cowcatcher askew. Times like these – and only times like these, when holding U-505’s history against him was inconvenient – she was forced to agree with Pioneer that the war was over and they should move on from it.
She had an idea however.
“Look, what you deserve doesn’t matter here. This is about what 727 deserves,” 999 argued. “She deserves whatever she wants. If she wants a smelly old boat full of holes? Well, a captured submarine who lost the war really has no place telling her no.”
Taken aback, U-505 considered this line of reasoning. 999 was quite proud of herself for having twisted his logic around him. Certainly he was right; he didn’t deserve the interests of an engine like 727. If her taste was so bad as to resist all alternatives though, 999 thought to herself, it couldn’t be helped.
Appearing to have come to a conclusion, U-505’s mouth shifted as if he were calculating a further risk.
“You are wanting me to accept 727’s interest, yes?” he asked.
“Did we not just have a ten minute conversation about this?” 999 snipped. “Yes. That is what I said you should do.” He made a face as if about to point out that she had not, in fact, actually said this, but he mercifully thought better of it.
“If I do this,” U-505 started instead, spiking 999’s already high annoyance with him. Where did he think he had any room to negotiate? “…will you still be friendly with her?”
“Friendl- I’m friendly to everyone!” 999 huffed. “When was I ever not friendly? I was built to be friendly.”
“You have not been very kind to Herr Zephyr.”
“Yes, well…” 999 flustered, “That’s different. Pioneer should know better. 727 wasn’t around for all those wars your side kept starting. And who can account for what planes want anyway?”
“I will not be a problem for her,” U-505 said pointedly.
“Oh, I know,” 999 said. “So worried about keeping engines you like in good standing. Very noble.” U-505 gave her a funny look, but ignored her barb otherwise.
“So then?” he persisted.
999 sniffed. “Fine. Yes. 727 and I will still be friends, even if she’s settled for you.” As if it was even a question. She and Pioneer were friends, weren’t they? He was trying to make something out of nothing.
“Acceptable. I will speak to her then,” U-505 said. “Did you need anything else?”
“No. You’re dismissed,” 999 said, waving him off and pretending to be suddenly very engrossed in the tapestries of the castle’s dining room until she thought he was gone.
Comment