Hermes sat on a three-legged stool in the engine room, watching the little movements of the pair of hairy goblin feet that jutted out from beneath a piece of machinery. Occasionally, Rumble would ask for a tool, and Hermes would scrounge through a large red toolbox to find it. It wasn't always easy: sometimes Rumble requested weird tools that Hermes had never heard of before, like rotary togglers, capuchin wrenches, and 36 docot ratchet sockets.

The resonance generator was a big machine. Hermes thought it looked a bit like the rotating barrel of a small cement truck, but covered in strange orange, yellow, and red lights. It spun slowly, making an unsettling grinding noise.

"Oughta be turnin' faster'n that," Rumble muttered from under the engine.

"Do you really think you can do that Kingsley jump thing?"

"Dunno. Never done it. Hand me a 22 docot socket."

Hermes had already figured out that docots were a unit of measure, kinda like millimeters or inches. He found the shiny chrome socket and placed it in the goblin's hand. Rumble grunted his approval. Soon, Hermes heard the familiar turn-zip-turn-zip sound of the ratchet.

This reminds me of helping Paul with his Mustang, Hermes thought. A few years ago, Paul had found this old 60s model Mustang at a cheap price. It didn't run, but their grandfather had agreed to buy it for Paul if he would fix it. Paul had spent most of that summer under that car, and Hermes had helped him as much as he could. Hermes sighed. He wondered what Paul was doing now.

"Oy! You listening, kid? Toss me those pliers again."

"Huh? Oh, yeah." He handed Rumble the tool. "So, uh, what's that zoo stuff you were talking about?"

"Zeuocite?"

"Yeah, that."

Rumble slid out from under the engine, mopped his face with a rag.

"Zeuocite's a mineral that absorbs lightning. Our last jump corroded a hole through the res-manifold inside the drum," Rumble said, rapping his knuckles on the rotating barrel, "so we're leakin' energy out through it."

The goblin fished a hand into the toolbox, found the tool he was looking for, and ducked back under the engine.

"Which is why the bubble's so flickery lately," he said. "I'm hopin' I can patch the hole with some zeuocite and feed the collected energy back into the generator. Ain't the best solution, but it'll work until we can get to a real Void dock."

"Where'd you learn so much about Voidships?"

"My dad was an engineer back on Seremit," Rumble replied. "Dad and Ma kinda always expected I'd do what he did, I guess, like his dad did. Resonance generators ain't much different than the generators we used to power our cities. As for the rest – heh, I'm just that good."

Hermes nodded. He and Rumble weren't much different, he decided. They both missed their homes, both came from families that expected them to follow the traditional family career.

"Did you ever want to be anything else?"

"I dunno. Sure, sometimes."

"Back home," Hermes said, "my dad and grandpa always sort of assumed I'd take up the family mantle or whatever. Be the next Postmaster of Lionsfort."

Rumble made a sound in his throat. "And whatcha think 'bout that?"

Hermes shrugged. "I dunno. I thought it was boring, and I didn't like being forced into it."

"Hmm." Rumble pulled himself back out from under the engine, tucked a tiny screwdriver into his mouth and chewed on the handle.

"Way I see it," he said finally, "I'm doin' what I'm doin'. You could say I'm doin' it cuz my dad did it, or you could say I'm doin' it cuz it was what I was meant to be doin', or cuz I chose to do it, but in the end, it's just me doin' what I'm doin'. Understand?"

Hermes blinked.

"No."

Rumble grabbed a tool, vanished under the engine once more.

"Give it a few years, kid."

Hermes shifted on his stool to lean back against the toolbox, and crossed his arms.

"Are you saying I should just do what my family wants? What about what I want?"

"Do you know what ya want?" the goblin replied.

"Well, no, not really."

"There ya go, then."

Hermes nodded. Rumble has a point, he thought. I'm just afraid of getting stuck there. I guess it's not a big deal right now, anyway.

The door to the engine room opened, and Iris walked in.

"How's it coming, Rumble?"

The goblin slid back out from under the engine one last time, holding up a mangled piece of charred metal. Hermes wasn't sure he'd be able to tell what it was, even if it hadn't been damaged.

"Busted rotorbox. Gotta fix this before we can hook into the skiff. We'll make it to Reisfall, but it'll be clunky going."

Iris nodded. "Just do what you can with it," she said, turning to head back towards the bridge. She paused in the doorway, looked back over her shoulder.

"Oh, Hermes, Narsil was looking for you. He said something about another training session." Iris flashed a sympathetic smile and walked out.

Hermes grimaced. Great. Another meeting with Narsil was just what he needed.

"Did ya ever talk to Autolycus?" Rumble asked, tossing the remains of the rotorbox into a junk pile in the corner.

"No," Hermes groaned. "I completely forgot in all the excitement."

"Heh." Rumble handed him the flask of firejuice. "Good luck, kid. Don't die."