Chapter 73: Waiting the Week Away

Chapter 73: Waiting the Week Away

Waiting for beer to ferment can drive a dwarf crazy. Thirty-two hour days didn't help.

It’s like putting on a pot of water to boil. You can’t help but stare at it, desperately willing it to boil faster. Fermentation is like that, but with a lot more crusty Kr?usen.

So we waited, and kept ourselves busy during the time the pub wasn’t open. Every morning Balin and I woke up and had a simple breakfast of goat sausage, eggs, and oats. Balin would run to schmooze with Annie while I schmoozed a cup of coffee at Joejam’s café.

I would arrive mid-morning to help Bran do prep work in the kitchen while Johnsson, Richter, and John cleaned. Annie did paperwork, Aqua ran errands with Tom (whom I still hadn’t been introduced to), and Balin did preventative maintenance.

Then we all met for lunch in the pub while Bran served us a delicious new meal every day.

Today was Beet and Goat stew with Garlic-bread.

Yesterday was Fried Chicken with Fries and Gravy.

Tomorrow was Beans on Toast with Braised Goat.

After that we had the early afternoon to do whatever we wanted. It didn’t really equate to a break though, since there was just so much to do.

A week thus passed.

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“No, no, no!”

My voice echoed through the room, bouncing off the myriad glass surfaces in an odd fragmented reverb.

“Look, the neck of the bottle here needs to be reinforced, or the Whistlestop will break it when the pressure gets high enough!”

Whistlemop and I had decided that Whistlestop was a good name for the Lightning-stopper bottle-topper. I didn’t care enough to tell him ‘no’, and the name had a certain poetry to it. In return, I got a concession that we would not be naming everything in the brand Whistle-whatevers.

Ralph took the bottle back and turned it around. “Hrm. Ma son designed this one. Looks like he was cuttin’ tha thickness of the glass to improve the flow. If you make the opening too small it’ll be damn hard to drink.”

“It’s fine, trust me! Drinking from a bottle works fine, even if the neck is really small. As long as you can fit a finger in, that’s good enough.”

Ralph brought the bottle to his lips and stuck his tongue in it. “You’re sure?”

“Yes, absolutely.”

“Yer funeral.”

“My gold too.”

Ralph grumbled as he moved along. Whistlemop replaced him, walking over to poke me in the side.

“Our gold, thank you very much.”

“Our gold. How is the investigation goin’?”

Whistlemop gave a simultaneous sigh of long suffering and relief. “Oh, swimmingly. The [Psychometer] was able to get witness testimony from the mugs that a Blessing was used on them. Combined with testimony from other witnesses, I am off the hook and can re-open my shop.”

I frowned. “That may not be a good idea if whoever did it is still out there.”

“I’m not too concerned. The city promised me a full-time [Guard], and I hired a [Wizard] to flesh out my personal security.”

We shared a fist bump, which was the dwarven societal equivalent of a high-five. “May I recommend a new limited-edition Whistlemug to ‘Commemorate the Grand Market Riot’”?

Whistlemop gave a high-pitched laugh. “Hah! That’s a little too mercantile even for me! I don’t think City Hall would appreciate it.”

“Ah well, it was worth a try. Any word on my experiments?”

“Yessss...?” Whistlemop tasted the word, his anxiety obviously spiking.

“That bad, huh?”

“One of the protective cases cracked when the bottle inside exploded. It cracked Pete. That glass was capable of holding a mushfolk.”

I shrugged. “Now you see why I wanted it to be that strong. Do you have anything more to inspect here, or can we move to the warehouse?”

“I didn’t believe you! It sounded ridiculous!”

“Uh huh.” I gave Whistlemop the barest sliver of my attention as we made our way through the shiny new glassworks. Rows upon rows of translucent glass bottles were stacked along the walls, awaiting the New Brew.

Soon. But first, it was time to see which priming sugar ratio won my little science experiment.

—

“Beer’s not allowed in tha Library, Pete.” Richter hissed at me.

“Pshaw, the librarians don’t care so long as you don’t spill it.” I wave a hand in dismissal. “I’ve seen a half-dozen other dwarves drinkin’ in the last week alone. Someone even broke out a keg.”

“Oh. I nevah noticed.”

“Of course not. Your eyes are always stuck deep into whatever book you’re reading. Sometimes you need to look up and appreciate the world around you Richter.”

“I cahm to tha library ta study, not look around!”

“We are all students of life, Richter. No dwarf is an island.”

“Tha’s a stupid sayin’ and ya should be embarrassed ya evah came up wit it.“

I sputtered. “I didn’t - you can’t - whatever...” I held out a beer bottle filled with amber liquid. “Drink this.”

He took it from me and turned it this way and that, observing it. “What is it?”

“Beer.”

“Aye can see dat. What’s it in?”

“It’s a beer bottle.”

“A what, now?”

“A bottle is a piece of glassware with a wide bottom and a fluted top, it is commonly -”

“Do you... have more?”

—

“Hey Aqua. Drink this.”

“Wow, hello to you too, Pete.” Aqua looked at the already opened bottle in her hand. “What is this?”

“Just drink it. It’s beer.”

“Is there something wrong with it?”

“No...?” I hedged.

“Just because you believe it’s true, doesn’t mean it’s actually true.”

I bit my lip. “Richter said he would kill everyone in the brewery for another taste of it.”

Aqua’s eyes widened to the size of saucers. “Richter said that?”

“I’m still on the fence about whether that’s a good thing.”

“Richter is mellower than a cat in a sunbeam. It must be good.” Aqua peeked in through the opening. “Is that.. sparks?”

“It’s carbonation fizzing out through the bottleneck. You have sugar ratio number three. Are you going to drink it or not?”

“Fine, don’t rush me!” She took a sip. Then a dreg. Then a chug.

Wow, Aqua could drink! She must have been taking lessons from Tania during opening hours!

She finished and wiped her lips with her arm, splattering fizzy beer all over her well-groomed blue beard.

“How was it?”

“MORE!” She grabbed my shirt.

“AHHHH!!!”

“AAGGHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!”

—

I burst into the tenement room, my shirt torn and filthy. The armour, it did nothing!

“Pete?” Balin asked. He was sweeping up the space Whistlemop had occupied until this morning. The little bugger took up a surprising amount of room. Though I guess a gnome wasn’t that much smaller than a dwarf. I still had a nagging subconscious mental image of gnomes as knee high, instead of the chest high they actually were.

“You need to hide me, Balin! They’re coming!”

“Who’s comin’?”

*KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK*

“No! Don’t - “ I hissed, but it was too late.

“Who is it?” Balin asked, walking up to the door.

“It’s Aqua and Richter, is Pete there?”

Balin looked at me with questioning eyes and I made a chopping motion across my neck.

“Erm... No. I haven’ seen ‘im.” Balin said, robotically. I rolled my eyes. There was a brief pause.

*KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK*

“We know you’re in there Pete! We just want to talk!!!”

I whimpered and started piling chairs against the door.

Balin tried to stop me. “Hey! Don’t break those, I spent a long time makin’ them!”

“It won’t matter if we die today! Hurry and help me!” I continued tossing furniture against the door, which was making increasingly loud banging noises. Unnoticed behind me, a brown bottle rolled out of my hastily dropped rucksack and rolled across the floor. Balin picked it up.

“What’s this? Hey, it’s tha bottled beer ya were talkin about!” He levered it open with a *pop* and the banging on the door grew more frenzied. “Smells real good! Can I try?” He took a sip.

“Balin!!! NOOOOOOO!!!!”

—

Bran looked at me with concern as I despondently peeled erdroot beside him.

“What happened to you?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You ok?”

“I think... I’m a doomed genius.”

“Uh huh. Well, yer holdin’ the peeler upside down, ‘genius’”

“Ugh.”

There was a patter of feet on the floor as Annie burst into the kitchen. I moaned and dropped into a curled-up fetal position. “Not you too! I’m out of bottled beers!”

“Are you still moping about Aqua’s prank!? Get over it, I need you!”

She grabbed me by the arm and pulled.

I pulled back. “What! PRANK!? That dirty little MINX!”

“There’s something wrong with the brew!!!”

I was up and running in an instant.