by Jay Noel
She saw Simon do a double take, and DePaul shook his head, seeing through her fib. “Whether the boy has this ability or not, you three stand to gain a tremendous payday once we return the boy to a safe house on the Albion Isle.”
Orsini and Lopez exchanged looks before turning their attention back to their pilot controls. McMillan could hardly argue with the old man's point there. Who cared if this Marcel boy truly had this power? “Money is money,” she said, cocking her head in Orsini and Lopez's direction. “Besides, only a couple of seasons ago, the idea of driving a boat underwater for four or five days straight seemed impossible.”
The two pilots shrugged their shoulders before nodding.
The Professor had warned them about the risks that came with accepting this job, but McMillan hadn't taken the old man seriously. “Something bothers me, Professor. You brought along your nephew-surgeon on this job. That tells me you're expecting some of us to get hurt.”
DePaul replied, “The boy is being kept at the estate of a dangerous crime lord, Olaf Geller. He plans to auction Marcel among a select group of dignitaries.” He once again wiped the moisture from his forehead and slid his glasses upwards. “This will not be easy. Otherwise, I wouldn't be paying you so much for your services.”
“I knew there had to be a catch,” McMillan said before sighing.
Orsini nodded. “If the boy does have this power, he is certainly worth a lot of money. I bet Iberia would pay a fortune for him.”
DePaul's thin lips scrunched. “They would, if given the chance. The good news is Geller will not sell the child to Iberia, as he has a deep grudge against the Empire. His parents were slaughtered by the Iberians. He is selling Marcel to representatives from other nations, however.”
Simon stepped forward. “The bad news is the boy is heavily guarded. The Professor and I have carefully thought this out, and we both agree we stand the best chance of keeping the boy safe if we take him before the auction. With only four of us, we will have stealth on our side.”
“I have a contact in the coastal city of Caru where the boy is being kept, and he will give us the blueprints to Geller's fortress,” DePaul added. “We will study the layout, and from there we will devise our strategy.”
Lopez shut his eyes tightly. “Child slavery. So much for my wish for a more civilized world.”
McMillan was no saint, but she did have one shot in her life at being a mother years ago. She lost that chance when her son died at birth, and her marriage quickly deteriorated thereafter. It was long ago, and so deeply buried, she couldn't remember the last time she thought of that tragedy.
“How do we know your intentions aren't the same as this man Geller?” she asked. “I might be a mercenary, but I don't necessarily want to be a part of stealing a child.” She leaned back against the metal wall. “I do have some sense of morality.”
Simon raised his head. “My uncle has been highly selective about whom he's brought on board the Triton. You've proven to be a highly intelligent and capable sailor. All three of you.” He turned to McMillan. “We know all the details of your past military histories. We are confident you would not abandon a child.”
McMillan didn't like how Simon was talking to her, and she immediately backed away. “Who exactly are you?” she asked, looking the Professor straight in the eyes. “I wasn't going to pry, but I also don't enjoy feeling like a puppet on a string.”
DePaul replied, “I am part of a secret society of scientists known as the Enlightenment Guild. Our goal here is to make certain that Marcel Bouvier does not get into the wrong hands.”
“So you and your Guild are the right hands?” McMillan asked him.
“Yes,” the old man replied quickly. “I have something personal at stake here. The child's father was my friend.”
Despite the sincerity of the old man, McMillan found it difficult to believe him. “All of this is a lot to take in, Professor.”
“It sounds far-fetched, I will admit,” DePaul said. “Had I not seen it for myself, I too would not have believed. Marcel Senior's talents became legendary and gained the attention of Geller, a powerful and dangerous smuggler. Marcel became fearful of the dark world that employed him. He had a wife and a new baby. So, they ran away, never to be heard from again. Eventually, he sought me out. We corresponded, with Simon here as our secret courier. We exchanged ideas and kept in touch. One day, he wrote about his son exhibiting the mechapathy ability too.”
“Runs in the family,” remarked Orsini.
“Later, Marcel fell ill and couldn't leave his rural hiding place to seek treatment,” DePaul continued. “He was sure Geller was looking for him. In my final letter to him, I promised to watch over his wife, Geneva, and their son, Little Marcel. When Simon arrived at their homestead to help treat him and deliver my correspondence, his wife and son were nowhere to be found.”
“Disappeared? So how did the child end up in Azincaya?” McMillan asked.
DePaul replied, “One of my friends, a diplomat from Russiya, received a written invitation from Geller to attend an auction for the boy. The letter went into great detail about Marcel's ability and vowed to prove it the night before the event.”
McMillan felt her face twist in disgust. “Selling a child at an auction?” She still doubted the mechapathy bit, but she felt a flicker of her old maternal instinct kick in. Her mind tried to relate to the mother's point of view. “Whatever happened to the boy's mother? Is she dead?”
“Geneva Bouvier fled Francia after she killed her second husband. He most likely helped Geller abduct the boy. So who knows,” answered DePaul.
McMillan knew what she would do in such a situation. Nothing would stop her from finding her own child. “So Geller plans to make a fortune from auctioning this child?”
“With the boy's mechapathy, one would profit greatly in many ways from using the child's power. Marcel's comprehension of machines and technology, of how things work, is beyond even my own abilities. There is no telling what the boy will be able to create as his grasp of science catches up to his powers.”
McMillan said, “Even if another nation were to win the boy in an auction, you can guarantee Iberia will eventually learn of Marcel's power and take it for themselves.”
The misery in DePaul's face lingered. “We live in troubling times, Shannon. Iberia is consuming nations whole. Their technology is already far more advanced than any other nation's. I dread the idea of them capturing Marcel and exploiting his gift. It would tip the balance even more. That is why the Enlightenment Guild will go to extreme measures to help keep the boy safe once we rescue him.”
Lopez turned his head and gave them a nod of confidence. “I have a son back home. This is a worthy mission, Professor. McMillan is right, selling the boy like he's a farm animal is disgusting.”
“Yes, it is.” DePaul straightened his back and winced as he rubbed his hip. “From what my sources tell me, the countries bidding are all members of the Union of Nations. Human slavery was outlawed over three hundred years ago.”
McMillan felt satisfied with DePaul's answers. “What's your strategy?”
“Once we grab Marcel, we will have little time until the entire castle is alerted to our presence,” Simon said to the group. “McMillan will stay on board the Triton, ready to make our getaway once we return.”
Orsini let out a low grumble. “How do we know she won't take off once we're on land?” He gave her a sideways grin. “No offense, McMillan.”
McMillan was about to get up and slap Orsini across the face, but she kept her cool. “Simon is right, I will not abandon the boy,” she said, keeping her fists clenched. “I'm no traitor. I've been a lot of things, but a traitor's never been one of them.”
DePaul paced in the control room. “I have intimate knowledge of your temperaments, your past achievements, and even much of your personal lives. Iberia keeps detailed records of its military personnel. The Guild has the means to gain access to those records. As Simon said, I know none of you w
ould ever abandon a lost child.”
“Sorry, Mac,” Orsini whispered to her from behind his seat.
“People can be unpredictable, I suppose,” DePaul added. “I will have a special device in my pocket. If McMillan decides to leave us and profit from selling the Triton and its secrets to the Iberians, I can disable the boat from afar, insuring it won't get further than three miles from shore. It will sink to the bottom of the ocean, where it will remain forever.”
McMillan slapped the wall in disbelief. “You can do such a thing?”
“Yes he can,” Simon answered. “We're both confident that it will be unnecessary.”
“It's settled then,” Lopez said. “This is a child we're talking about. Special power or not. But, I hope he does have this mechapathy stuff. I've got a steam skiff back home that could use some fixing. Maybe Marcel can modify my boat to run on carbsidian.”
McMillan smiled and interrupted DePaul's pacing by moving directly in front of his path. “You can just go ahead and throw that little gadget away, as far as I'm concerned. This is a noble mission.”
“Indeed it is,” DePaul said. “One that will reward you well.”
Lopez gave Orsini a playful slap on the back, and both men laughed. Orsini tipped his flat cap in McMillan's direction, as was his way of apologizing again.
IN THE MIDDLE OF TAKEO'S visit in the Koreyan province, he received urgent news. He learned a diplomat from the Jin Faction of Xia was on his way to Nihon. He was to deliver their supreme chancellor's signed agreement to join the newly formed Sun Nation.
The historic treaty came as no surprise to Takeo. He knew about the two Shadow assassins being sent to Western Xia fifteen days ago; their orders were to kidnap members of Chancellor Zhi's family and force his hand to sign the treaty. For every day Chancellor Zhi hesitated to proclaim obedience to the Nihon Crown, a family member would be killed.
Politics was ugly business, but having Jin support was crucial. Their territories held much needed resources, while the greater populated Eastern Sui regions gave them the manpower they needed to fight Iberia.
It was now only a matter of days until the reunification of the entire Sun Nation as one solidified force, with Nihon as the sole ruler, was to be made official.
At receiving the update from an official Jin courier, Takeo left Koreya in haste. He was more than happy to leave the peninsula. It had been a difficult visit despite every facet of the project proving to be successful. Even as he stepped off his steamship and found himself back on Nihon soil, the heavy dread of what he had seen in Koreya weighed on his mind.
Sitting in Emperor Hideaki's private study, Takeo quickly reviewed his notes. The short trip to Koreya had not been short enough. The clear rules of warfare he had lived by for years were now muddled and cast aside. Takeo felt off balance.
“The scientists have made great strides in the last two seasons,” Takeo managed to convey in an even tone. “They have finally created a suitable container for the pestilence. Ceramic capsules. We will be able to drop them from above in airships, or even launch them from power catapults. The sickness for which there is no cure will come upon the enemy fairly quickly, in four to six hours. However, we must remain cognizant of the winds if we are to use these weapons, as we could be killing our own.”
Hideaki stood in silence for a long time. His emperor had been filled with angst ever since he sent Zen away to the Wild Land, but there was contentment now in his eyes. He turned to Takeo as if he sensed the Shogun's dark mood. “Tell me, Takeo, is something bothering you?”
Takeo struggled to answer, and his obedience struck down all the rebellious words threatening to come from his mouth. Hideaki leaned forward as if he expected to be told a secret.
“No, your Excellency. I am lacking sleep. Even to this day, I find it difficult when traveling abroad,” Takeo replied.
Hideaki seemed satisfied with his answer. “I must admit, I had my doubts in the beginning. Seeing all of the pieces fall into place, I am now sure that I have done the right thing.”
Takeo assumed he spoke of Zen. “I agree, my Lord. It is all for the best.”
Hideaki's eyes turned upwards towards the ceiling. “If Zen were here, I imagine we would have a serious problem on our hands.”
The emperor sought affirmation, and Takeo had no choice but to offer it. “The people adore and admire Zen. It would have created a potentially dangerous situation had he learned of our work. We would have had a revolt on our hands. A war with your own son is unthinkable.”
With eyes closed, Hideaki nodded slowly and repeated, “Unthinkable.”
KAI DISPATCHED TWO OF HIS crew to Geller's castle to announce his arrival. As an official diplomat of Nihon, an invitation to stay in luxurious accommodations within Geller's estate was guaranteed. But Kai didn't see himself as a diplomat at all. Although his original orders came directly from Emperor Hideaki, Kai was free to do whatever it took to achieve his objective. As a Shadow, all that mattered was the job. If killing people was involved, it was a nice added bonus. Kai was still going to offer Geller the gold for the boy, but the old merchant was sure to refuse. Once Geller refused to exchange the child for gold, the simple mission would turn complicated. Kai was at his best when he needed to revise his strategy. Geller wouldn't give up the boy without a fight.
It was hot in this part of the world, yet Kai decided to keep his long-sleeved blue shirt on. Being uncomfortable was a good thing, as it kept his senses sharp. Compared to prior missions, this one seemed not only easy, but most enjoyable. Kai had been chosen for this mission, because out of the five loyal Shadows, he was the most comfortable with conversing with others. But that wasn't saying much.
His two men returned to the ship much sooner than Kai had anticipated. He waited patiently for them to catch their breaths.
“We showed Geller's assistant your official invitation for the auction,” the tall one on the right said. “He verified the seal was authentic. They are inviting you to stay the night at the estate where all of your needs will be taken care of. Dinner will be served shortly.”
The portly one on his left was still struggling for air. “Shall we get your things for you, Master?”
Kai shook his head. “Tell them I respectfully decline their generous offer. I will stay here, on board the ship with my crew. However, I will attend dinner. I do request a private audience with Geller tonight. After our meal, I have an official message from Emperor Hideaki I must deliver.”
The two men bowed and scurried together back towards Geller's palace.
Kai started for his cabin below deck, as there was much to do before finally meeting Geller face-to-face.
WHEN MORNING CAME, ENAPAY STOPPED the locomobile to assess the damage. He complained of having to struggle to keep the vehicle straight since barreling through Mexihco. Neva and Zen exited the cockpit, eager to take in the fresh air, but the barren world that greeted them offered no relief from the growing heat.
Zen scanned the desert all the way to the horizon. “What happened to this land?”
Neva shrugged. “Lots of speculation. Some say a devastating war killed everything. Others believe it is cursed.”
Before Zen could ask her which theory she believed, Enapay came from around the locomobile to find them sitting on the rocky ground.
“Bad news,” Enapay reported. “The passenger car is damaged. I'm going to have to uncouple it from the locomobile. Otherwise, it's going to make steering this thing impossible.”
Neva stood up and dusted herself off of the red clay. “How far are we from Caru?”
“If we push it, we can get there about three days,” Enapay replied.
“Then push it,” Neva said. “My Machine Boy needs me.”
GELLER WAS PREOCCUPIED WITH MAKING final preparations for the arrival of the invitees, but something new was bothering him. He had been in such a good mood since returning home. Representatives from several nations already made their initial appearances, with more to come in t
he next two days. The arrival of his most recent guest made him nervous, however. Geller had never personally met Emperor Hideaki or any of his dignitaries before, but the man who called himself Kai did not fit his preconceived ideas of Nihonese nobility. Kai had refused to lodge in the comfort of the castle, which troubled Geller immediately. And now, the Nihonese representative was requesting a private audience after dinner. He initially agreed to meet with Kai, but when he finally met the man in person in the dining hall, he regretted that decision.
Even with the sun sinking into the ocean, the air was still humid and soggy. The other representatives were dressed appropriately, wearing light and loose fitted shirts. Kai, however, looked out of place in his long sleeved navy blue shirt with dark pants and boots. His hair was not long and put up in a top knot, as was Nihonese custom for noblemen. It was cut short and looked ragged. Kai was menacing despite his attempts at smiling courteously.
Prior to dinner, Geller had warned Kamau to watch Kai closely. In fact, he planned on making sure his best bodyguard was at his side when he was to meet with Kai in private.
Nihon was still a mystery to Geller. There were rumors of the nation gathering strength, creating an alliance with the other Eastern Powers of the Orient. The most striking report was of the eastern half of Xia pledging support of this new alliance, with the western faction soon to follow.
This was all speculation, rumors that lacked confirmation. If true, then Nihon came to win the boy. With Marcel's powers, even Nihon could stand toe-to-toe with Iberia's new weapons.
THE DINING HALL WAS FULL of useless chatter. It took strength for Kai to endure the banal talk and banter between representatives at the long rectangular table. The food was equally unbearable, but Kai ate what was put in front of him. Wine flowed freely for the guests, but he kept his mind clear by drinking water instead. One by one, the chamber eventually emptied, until only the sound of the ocean crashing against the rocks far below filled the hall.
During dinner, Kai had noticed Geller's scrutinizing gaze. The merchant might be greedy, but he was not foolish. In fact, despite the man's growing belly, Geller still held solid muscle on his thick frame as if he had been a warrior before becoming an arms dealer.