The Ehrich Weisz Chronicles

by Marty Chan

  One of the engineers cried out, “Stop him before he reaches the rip line.”

  The two soldiers hustled up the ladder. Mr. Serenity’s larger girth slowed him down. A crimson hand grabbed his ankle before he could reach the top. He clung to the bamboo rung and refused to let go. He eyed the engine room layout, committing it to memory, and tried to give Ning Shu enough time to return to Ling Po’s quarters.

  v

  Gu Shan and a retinue of two armed escorts marched through the narrow corridors of the airship back to Ling Po’s quarters. By now, Xian’s soldiers would have informed her of the altercation. She hoped Xian didn’t toss Mr. Serenity in the brig.

  The general had a hold of Ning Shu’s arm. “Don’t worry, Ning Shu. I’ll have a few words with Xian’s men. I’m sure they wouldn’t want their general to learn how they let a member of the House of Qi out of their sight.”

  “You are too kind, sir.”

  “I do what I can.”

  They ascended the bamboo steps. One escort led them up while the other walked behind. Ning Shu stopped about halfway up the stairs, unable to shake the feeling someone was watching. She was about to say something when a barbed disc flew past her face and struck the guard behind her. He shrieked once and collapsed, tumbling down the steps. His body twitched on the floor until he expired.

  The lead escort drew his razor-sharp disc from his bandolier and protected General Gu Shan with his body. The general pulled back his blue robe and drew a disc from his thigh band. Though he was old, he still had a warrior’s instinct. He flicked the disc up the stairs and drew another projectile.

  Ning Shu peered up the stairs for any sign of the assassin, but whoever had thrown the weapon was gone.

  SHOW BUSINESS

  The theatres weren’t ready for moving pictures. Broadway managers slammed the door in Ehrich’s face. Theatres catered to the upper class with the works of Shakespeare, or playwrights like Charles Hoyt and his hit show, A Trip to Chinatown. Each haughty manager informed the group they performed live theatre. Ehrich downgraded his pitch to the vaudeville venues around Union Square.

  The Bijou’s marquee had seen better days, and the loiterers outside suggested this place might be a tavern rather than an entertainment establishment. Still, the Bijou was their best chance of landing any kind of stage time. The venue was their last stop in a long line of rejections.

  The husky manager eyed Ehrich as the teen adjusted his slightly oversized suit. He pressed his fake moustache against his lip and cleared his throat.

  “What’s your act?” asked the man who reeked of garlic.

  “We project moving pictures,” Ehrich said.

  “What’s that?”

  “It’s unlike anything you’ve ever seen.”

  “They all say the same thing to land the job. Impress me.”

  “Mr. Godfrey, this presentation is about the last day of a condemned man. He’s about to face the guillotine, and he doesn’t want to die. We tell the story using moving images.”

  “This is show business. You dance? I can sell you. Sing? Even better. Tell jokes? I might be able to squeeze you in. Anything else? The audience will egg you off the stage.”

  “What if the act were live? We actually witness a man putting his neck under the guillotine. He’s chained up in shackles, and at the last minute, he frees himself.”

  “An escape act, huh? I don’t know. I already have a magician.”

  “I tell a harrowing story. Will the condemned man free himself before the guillotine drops on his neck?”

  “I like the notion, but I run a family show. What else do you have?”

  “How about a transformation?” Ehrich said, grasping at straws. He thought of one of the tricks Robert Houdin wrote about in his book. The effect was the Indian Basket, in which a child was tied up in a wicker basket, but miraculously escaped. Ehrich offered it up. “I step into a trunk. The lid is closed, and when the trunk is open again, I am gone.”

  “So?” the manager said. If there were a contest for the most cynical venue manager, Godfrey would take home the crown. He had more interest in Amina than anything Ehrich offered.

  “And in my place, my beautiful assistant appears,” he added.

  “She’s in the act?” Godfrey asked.

  “Me?” Amina’s eyes were wide.

  “Yes, she is,” Ehrich jumped in. He was scrambling now to land the deal. They needed to get on the bill if they were to have any chance of attracting Edison. “She is part of this incredible transformation.”

  Godfrey chewed his bottom lip and cocked his head toward Ehrich but kept his eye on Amina’s leg. She stepped beside Tesla, hiding from the lascivious man’s ogling.

  Ehrich stepped in front of the manager. “It’s an incredible performance where the magician and the assistant switch places.”

  “I’m intrigued. I’ll give you a half-hour to impress me. Knock my socks off, and I’ll give you a week on the bill.”

  “Now? But I’m not ready.”

  “Time is money. You want the shot or not?”

  “We should be able to make do with something,” Tesla said.

  Ehrich couldn’t argue with his mentor. They stepped into the theatre.

  Amina whispered, “What about the projection demonstration, Ehrich?”

  “We needed a venue. Once we have the job, we can bring out the projection.”

  “One problem. We’re not a magic act,” she said.

  “Then we’ll have to do our best to pretend to be one,” Tesla said.

  They walked past the wooden chairs to the empty stage. Ehrich was trying to figure out exactly how to pull off the trick he had promised the manager without a trunk or any means to do this, but Tesla seemed confident.

  They climbed on stage and began their preparations. Tesla took off his jacket. “Can we instantly project the images we record?”

  “Yes.”

  “We need to record the images of what Ehrich promised.”

  She cracked a smile, catching on to the ploy. Tesla set the codex on the floor and began to work on the device. Godfrey leered at Amina for a second, but left after she stepped into the wings. She popped back on stage after the man lumbered out.

  Tesla waved at the pair on stage. “I’m set to record. What shall we show him?”

  Ehrich glanced around. “Search for a curtain of some type. And a trunk.”

  The trio split off to the wings. Ehrich spotted the props of the other performers. Amina grabbed a curtain while he examined a large steamer trunk. He began to empty it.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” A tiny girl with heavy eyebrows hitched up her brown skirt and ran over. “Put those things back.”

  “I’m sorry. We’re hoping we can borrow your steamer trunk for an audition. I meant to put everything back.”

  “You will put my props back now.”

  “I won’t wreck anything.”

  “I don’t care. Didn’t your mother teach you any manners?” the girl asked, her hands on her hips.

  Ehrich was struck by the girl’s good looks. She seemed mature for her age. Her pale skin and tiny stature reminded him of a sprite—a churlish sprite.

  “I’m sorry, miss.” He began to stuff the belongings back in the trunk and noted the initials read “WB Rahner.”

  “Stop gawking and get stuffing,” she said.

  “Of course, Ms. Rahner.”

  “How do you know my name?”

  He pointed at the nameplate on the trunk.

  “Don’t get fresh with me.”

  “Sorry.” He set a cane into the box.

  “Stop wrecking my things. Give me that. Next time, keep your grubby paws off what doesn’t belong to you. Don’t you know anything about theatre etiquette?” she scolded.

  Though she was tearing a strip out of him, Ehrich couldn’t deny his sense of ease around this elfish girl.

  “Do you know where I could find a trunk? It’s for my audition.”

  “What kind of
performer comes in to audition with nothing?”

  “An unemployed one,” Ehrich quipped.

  The hint of a smile started to form, but she covered her mouth. “You might find an old trunk in the green room. We use it as a table. The lid sticks.”

  “Thank you, Ms. Rahner.” He headed off to the back and found the trunk she had mentioned. He cleared the papers and bottles from the top and dragged the black box out of the room. He feared the ancient thing would disintegrate before he reached the stage, but the trunk survived.

  Amina shook out a large dusty cloth. Tesla took note of both as he set up the codex in the wings.

  “What do we do?” Amina asked.

  Ehrich waved to Tesla. “Ready to record?”

  “Yes. Any time.”

  Ehrich squeezed into the musty box and ducked down as Amina closed the lid.

  “Amina, climb on top of the trunk.”

  The thump of his partner’s feet reverberated inside the trunk. They held their positions for what seemed like forever before Tesla instructed them to switch places. They did. Tesla scratched his head.

  “I’d like to try one more,” he said. “I’m not sure if I caught everything.”

  Ehrich opened the trunk and helped Amina climb out. “Okay, let’s go ahead.”

  Godfrey’s voice boomed across the theatre before they could reshoot their performance. “Time’s money. Ready or not, here I come.”

  Amina’s gaze darted from Ehrich to the trunk. “What do we do?”

  “Put on a show,” he said.

  Godfrey plopped into a seat in the front row. He folded his arms over his chest daring the trio to entertain him.

  Ehrich strode forward. “Welcome to the most amazing act you will ever witness. First, an ordinary trunk.”

  “Hey, that’s mine,” Godfrey said.

  “Yes, taken from the green room of your theatre, and a painter’s drop cloth from backstage. With these two found items, you will witness the impossible.”

  He motioned to Amina to help him push the trunk forward on stage. He pried the lid open and tilted the box over to show nothing but dust and yellowed newspapers inside. He beckoned Amina to help him pick up the cloth.

  “In just a moment, I will step into the trunk, and my lovely assistant Amina will shut me in. Then she will raise the cloth in front, and what you will see will amaze you.”

  They spun the box around three times.

  Ehrich whispered, “When I climb in the trunk, close the lid. Then stand on top of it and raise the drop cloth.”

  “Then what?”

  “Hope.”

  Godfrey leaned forward in his seat, intrigued. Ehrich stopped pushing the trunk and stepped inside. “Now my assistant will close me up in the trunk.”

  Ehrich squeezed himself into the cramped box. As he was about to lower his head, he spotted Ms. Rahner peering at him from the wings. A thrill ran through his stomach as he curled into a ball. The lid slammed against his back. The trunk reeked of old shoes.

  On stage, Amina spun the trunk around once. The scrape of the heavy trunk against the wooden floor caused her to wince. Out of the corner of her eye, she noted a dark haired girl sliding from the wings to the front row. They had gained an audience member. A good sign.

  She raised the drop cloth to hide the trunk and herself. Just as the dusty material was at the height of her neck, she winked at Godfrey. Give the letch another good reason to book their act. She lifted the cloth over her head.

  Behind the cloth, Amina couldn’t see anything, but she heard a gasp in the audience. Even Ms. Rahner let out a low whistle. From the wings, Tesla motioned her to step down. She dropped the cloth. A projection of Ehrich stood on the trunk. The image stepped down and walked to the foot of the stage.

  “Now,” Amina whispered as she flipped the trunk lid open.

  Like a scrim, the projection shielded the audience’s view of the action behind the image of the virtual Ehrich on stage. The real Weisz climbed out of the trunk, and Amina took his place inside. He then strode up to his own projection and stepped inside his virtual doppelganger. Tesla shut off the codex, and the real Ehrich paraded around the stage. Their audience of two applauded wildly. Ehrich returned to the trunk and opened the lid to help Amina climb out. She wrinkled her nose from the stench. Ehrich grabbed her hand and bowed.

  Godfrey ran on to the stage. “That act will pack the houses when word spreads. What do you call this trick?”

  Ehrich answered, “Metamorphosis.”

  The sweaty man sidled up to Amina and wrapped his arm around her waist. He smelled of onions and beef.

  “I like the name. If you’re in need of a costume or two, I’m sure I might be able to scare up something from my office.” He leaned in close to Amina. She squirmed out of his grasp.

  Tesla saved her. “We want to start this week, and we wish to have a two-week engagement. More if we bring in big houses.”

  Godfrey let go of Amina and approached Tesla. “I’ll pay the standard rate. Bottom billing and one week run. I can put you up in my boarding house, but I’ll take room and board out of your wages. I’ll give you an extra week, if houses grow by 30 percent.”

  “We want posters and bills to distribute,” Tesla said.

  “Certainly. You’ll have that by tomorrow afternoon if I can contact the printer in time. What should I bill your act as?” He asked Ehrich.

  “Harry Houdini,” Ehrich answered instinctively. As soon as he uttered the name, a pang of regret stabbed his heart. The hunters who would have recognized his stage name were dead. The last ties to his old life were gone. “Bill me as Harry Houdini.”

  THE HANDCUFF KING

  “Unacceptable!” Ling Po howled as he paced the length of his quarters.

  Mr. Serenity stood in the centre of the room bound in a canvas straitjacket, his arms crossed over his chest and tied up behind his back. Xian and her escorts gathered around him while Gu Shan tended to Ning Shu.

  “I’ll be fine. How is your escort?” Ning Shu asked.

  “He’s dead,” Gu Shan answered. “The razor tael was poisoned.”

  “How does an assassin sneak onboard the airship?” Ling Po asked.

  “The same way as outsiders,” Xian retorted. She wasn’t about to be cowed by the old man. “None of this would have even happened if she had stayed put in your quarters. What was she doing outside anyway?”

  “It’s my fault,” Gu Shan said. “Heard a rumour that the House of Qi had returned, and I had to see for myself. Why did you keep this from me?”

  “That is not the issue,” Xian said. “The issue is that there is an assassin onboard the ship.”

  “Yes,” Ling Po said. “We must find the culprit. Shouldn’t you be having your soldiers search the ship, General Xian?”

  She glared at Ling Po, then growled at one of her soldiers. “Spread the word. Comb every corner of the ship. I want the assassin before the day’s end.”

  The soldier bowed sharply and ran out of the room.

  “Ling Po, you’ve shown the same competence in protecting Ning Shu as you did in serving as the House of Qi’s steward. I’m afraid I’m going to have to relieve you of your duties again.”

  “She’s safer with me than anyone else,” Ling Po said.

  “A dead soldier suggests otherwise.”

  Ning Shu stood up. “I take responsibility for the incident, General. Unlike others, Ling Po obeys the word of the House of Qi. I asked to step out.”

  “Then the soldier’s death is on your head, General. I suggest we find General Ning Shu safer quarters so we can avoid any more needless deaths,” Xian said. “I will personally protect you, and I believe we must start with separating you from your companion.”

  “Mr. Serenity travels with me,” Ning Shu said. “He goes nowhere without me.”

  “And I wouldn’t mind slipping into something less uncomfortable,” Mr. Serenity added.

  “He will not roam free on my airship,” Xian said.

&nb
sp; “Hold on,” Gu Shan interrupted. “The last time I checked, Ning Shu is the highest ranking member of the House of Qi. Are you openly defying her wishes, General Xian? Sounded something dangerously close to treason.”

  Ning Shu hid her glee. Though Gu Shan’s help was expensive, he was worth the price.

  “I’m merely expressing my concerns,” Xian said.

  “Duly noted,” Ning Shu said.

  Ling Po jumped in. “Ning Shu may stay in my quarters as long as she wishes.”

  Gu Shan escalated the matter. “What? Ling Po, that is an insult to the House of Qi. If anything, Ning Shu must reside in the most spacious quarters here. I believe they would be your quarters, General Xian.”

  Xian gritted her teeth and flashed a thin-lipped smirk. “Gu Shan, you know as well as I do that your suite is the largest on the ship.”

  “Ah, the memory slips,” he said.

  Ning Shu urged the old man to follow through on his promise. “Gu Shan, I would do nothing to oust you from your quarters. Perhaps when we return to our sector, you may soak in the waters at Chung Lantau.”

  “I would appreciate that, but we are far from home and we have much to discuss, starting with why the steward still holds power when the House of Qi has returned.”

  Xian shook her head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I’m talking about why Ning Shu’s arrival has been kept secret from me, a member of the Council of Arch Generals.”

  Ling Po added, “And when she has returned with news of a mission Ba Tian himself endorsed.”

  Ning Shu feigned humility. “I’m sure Xian must have her reasons to withhold this information from the Council of Arch Generals.”

  Gu Shan pounded his fist into his hand. “Not when you were on a mission for Ba Tian. I call for a gathering, Xian.”

  “General Gu Shan, calm down,” she said. “If you insist on the gathering, we will do so, but you know we will have to interrupt their missions.”

  “Then we will inconvenience them,” Gu Shan said.