CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Alien Satellites.
Hirohira and Wendy watched Lieutenant McKeon work on HMS Kaede's AM that was used by the navigator Lieutenant Commander Brice to make course for the airship to follow. Brice was one of the leading experts of the machines on the airship, even more knowledgeable than Doctor Sakusa on the subject. Currently he was at a dinner/meeting with the captain, so McKeon was working on it himself and he knew more than Hirohira and Wendy combined.
"I think it could be possible." McKeon typed in figures. "And the lieutenant commander seems to agree. There." He stopped typing. "I think that's it. Let's see."
McKeon flipped a switch and turned a crank. He pointed at a knob near Wendy and she turned it slowly until he told her to stop. It printed a list of numbers on a strip of paper.
McKeon nodded to himself as he read them. He flipped another switch that turned on screen two. It showed a strange scene in front of them. Part of it was black and the other part was blue and white and circular.
"What is that?" Hirohira asked.
"Oh," McKeon said. "I forget sometimes that so few people have seen it." He pointed at the blue and white part. "This is the Earth from space. The black part is space. We've patched into a satellite in orbit around our planet and we are looking through its camera lens."
"Wow," Hirohira said. "It’s like how the gods must see Earth or something like that."
"Aye," Wendy said. "It’s beautiful!"
"Right." McKeon flipped down a switch and turned another knob. "I think I can adjust the lens so we can see all of...the Earth. There it is!"
"Amazing!" Wendy said.
"Is that Africa?" Hirohira nodded.
"Aye," McKeon said. "I think it is!"
They watched with amazement as McKeon explained about the clouds and atmosphere that floated above them and could be seem from space.
"It might even be possible to use images like this to scientifically predict the weather. Tornadoes, hurricanes, and earthquakes! Could you imagine the lives that could be saved?!"
"Amazing!" Hirohira said.
"Um... Shouldn't we be looking for a closer satellite?" Wendy asked.
"Actually, this satellite will eventually revolve around to be closer to where we are. In time." McKeon flipped another switch and pushed a button. Wendy turned her knob again but in the other direction. The image on screen two blurred and faded.
McKeon turned a crank for a second and flipped a switch. A new image appeared-this of a different part of the Earth—and he adjusted the image with his knob. "There we go. I believe that is the North American continent."
"That would be the California territories there," Hirohira said. "There's where we are in Canada. Right? Or would it be more here?"
"Maybe there," McKeon said. "I'm not exactly sure."
"This would be the Great Lakes, correct?" Wendy said.
"Aye, Wendy," McKeon said.
"Something just occurred to me," Hirohira said.
"What?" Wendy said.
"If we were looking at the Earth four or five hundred years ago," Hirohira said. "It wouldn't look any different now than it would back then."
"So?"
"Countries, empires, languages, and religions rise and fall, but this doesn't change."
"True," McKeon said. "But I have read that while its true things haven't changed in hundreds or thousands of years, things are different if you're talking millions of years."
"Millions?" Wendy said. "Some don't believe the Earth is that old."
"Superstitious fools. I say they think the Earth is flat and the center of the universe," McKeon said. "Science has shown that the world was created over a long period of time and not in a magical instance. The Venusians certainly don't believe that nonsense."
"Really?" Wendy said.
"I've been able to translate a few of their books of philosophy and religion. They believe in some things that Galileo, Darwin and others have talked about."
"I never said I agree with them," Wendy said. "I just said that some still do."
"I know. Sorry about that."
"Sorry about what?" Lieutenant Commander Brice said as he walked in.
"We're talking philosophy and religion, sir," McKeon said.
"Dangerous subjects, Ron." Brice gave a short laugh. "What have you done?"
"We've been able to patch in to a couple of satellites and we were looking at this one," McKeon said. "It shows North America."
"Oh, I see you've increased the magnification," Brice said. "That's good. Now the idea that we're planning is to use a satellite to connect to a MAM."
"I thought first to connect to this one right here." McKeon held up a MAM.
"That should be easy since we know its location and code numbers," Brice said.
"That's another thing I've been wondering about, sir. If there had been no ability to control and listen in on someone's MAM, or AM, for that matter, then why do they need code numbers?"
"True," Brice said. "We didn't put them there. The Venusians did, so they must want the Martians to hear what we are doing."
"Possibly the Martians have done the same for their allies, sir," Hirohira said.
"True."
#
Captain Parsons' steward, PO 1st Class Thomas Aikens, set down a cup of tea for him. "The way you like it, Captain,"
"Thank you, Thomas." Captain Parsons twirled the spoon for a bit. He lifted the steaming brew and gave it a timid sip. "Go ahead gentleman. Tell me what you've found."
Chief Petty Officer Grey sat in front of him with PO 3rd Class Nakatomi and Airman Ishihara behind him.
"Nakatomi can tell you better than I can, Captain," Chief Grey looked back at Nakatomi.
"Sir, we agreed to meet at the same bar with officers to talk about what to do." Nakatomi talked about everything that he could think regarding what happened earlier at the bar. He answered some of the captain's questions as best he could. Ishihara did the same thing.
"Chief."
"Aye, Captain?"
"Go get Major Cooper," Captain Parsons said. "I want him in on this."
#
Jeeves followed Major Cooper and Chief Grey into the bar. He recognized Sergeant Jacob immediately and pointed the man out to them. The Negro sergeant was seated at a table with two white men and all three were in civilian clothes. They approached the table and everyone was quickly introduced.
"I'm Captain Cary Jacobson," said a white man with plenty of scars and a tired look. Jeeves guessed him to be in his fifties. "Just drop us and our stuff off and we'll take care of ourselves."
“Lieutenant 3rd class Edward Paul Bathurst, U.S. Army,” said a young white man with an odd gung-ho look to his eyes that his captain didn’t seem to share.
"I'm Major Kurt Cooper, the senior marine officer on the Kaede," the major said. "Our captain says that if you gentlemen have some knowledge of Doctor Sakusa's whereabouts then we would be happy to take you where you want to go."
"Good, Major Cooper," Captain Jacobson said. "We happen to know she was taken to Michigan to the home of a rebel General Frank James by a couple of rebel spies named Bell Starr and Jesse James."
"How do you know this?" Major Cooper asked.
"The lieutenant here" Captain Jacobson nodded at the other US Army officer, "is very good with technology. He can do most amazing things such as listen in on people using those fancy alien devices."
"What?"
"You know what I'm talking about. You call them Mini-Analytical Machines or the big ones Analytical Machines."
"I've heard of those Analytical Machines that them scientists use, but don't know what that mini thing is," lied Major Cooper.
Captain Jacobson laughed. "Of course you don't. You see, the lieutenant is able to use stolen ones to connect to others belonging to Confederate spies like the ones who kidnapped Dr. Sakusa."
Lieutenant Bathurst held up a Martian MAM.
"I see," Major Cooper said.
"I think
we could work out something that could benefit both of our people." Captain Jacobson said. "We're not interested in this getting out to the public either, so you have nothing to fear. Now what do you say?"
"I think I would like to introduce you two to my captain.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Everyone is Going South.
The large state-owned hospital in Richmond, Virginia was one of the best in any of the states or territories of the Confederate States of America. Like most hospitals, it smelled of the chemicals used to keep it clean of bacteria.
At least I don't have to do that, Doctor Douglas Hoffmann thought. That's the one reason slaves were allowed in this white-only hospital to keep it clean. Now to check on that...lady.
Colonel Ellie Jackson, old Stonewall's daughter. In my youth, a lady didn't want to be in the military but just wanted to marry a man in one. At least they don't let women in the regular army and navy like those slant-eyed Japanmen do. Crazy bastards!
Doctor Hoffmann was a senior surgeon, but not the hospital's head surgeon. No, that distinction went to Doctor Hans Olsen, who was one of the geniuses behind using machine parts to replace human body parts. He was now on his way to see Miss Jackson and see how well the autotan hand and forearm were getting along with the rest of her arm. It had been cut a little past the wrist-a clean cut too. Not a hack job from an ax or a cutlass, but a smooth cut in one stroke.
Miss Jackson, on the other hand, was one of the worst patient he had ever had. She would not cooperate at all. Always wanting to know when she could leave and constantly wanting to exercise. She was always walking around when she should be in bed. But when in bed, she cursed the nurses and orderlies with language that a true lady wouldn't know of.
"The hand works fine now," Doctor Hoffmann heard from outside her private room. He felt like turning and running for it. Instead, he walked into the chaos where Miss Jackson looked like she was about to grab Nurse Becky by the throat with her new mechanical arm. "I need to get back out there! I have a job to do."
"Your job can wait, Miss Jackson." Doctor Hoffmann took off his spectacles to point them at her. "You need your rest, if you want to get back to your job then you rest until you’re healthy."
"I am healthy, Doctor Hoffmann." Jackson pointed her left index finger at him. "I don't need any more of your damn drugs or your motherfucking hacksaws! And don't call me miss! I'm a colonel and not a little girl!"
"Now miss...uh, Colonel Jackson," Doctor Hoffmann said. "We need to run more tests on you and your new hand. Sometimes our patients get infections or it stops working and has to be replaced. This was very experimental surgery. There are a lot of things about it that we haven't figured out yet. Though we will, of course."
"Kiss my ass!" She punched him in the stomach with the metal hand.
"Aaah!" Doctor Hoffmann bent over. His spectacles fell on the floor. Two orderlies ran in to grab the woman patient by the arms and put her back into bed. She struggled, kicked, cursed, and bit. Eventually they had her tied down and Doctor Hoffmann put his spectacles back on.
"Why do you continue to do this, my dear lady?" Doctor Hoffmann said. "You are in the one of the finest hospitals in the nation and still fight us every step of the way as if you were our prisoner rather than an honored patient."
Why I can’t reason with this madwoman, Doctor Hoffmann thought. I've seen men who had lost their manhood that were less upset than she is. He checked to see how her arm was getting along with the metal replacement. He found no infection, which was a good sign. He decided to start her on the new exercises that would teach her how to use it; maybe that would calm her down a little.
Doctor Hoffmann shook his head and went to check on a more friendly young woman with several cracked ribs and a busted pelvis. Poor thing.
Later that night, he had finished writing a report about a patient with a belly wound from a bar fight when an orderly rushed into his office. He had a bleeding nose, torn shirt, and an eye that was swelling as the doctor looked at it.
"What happened?"
"Sorry, Doctor Hoffmann." The orderly shrugged. He sounded more worried about what he was about to say than how his face looked. "Miss Jackson attacked me and Nurse Wendy. She's escaped!"
"Escaped? This isn't a prison! That fool woman must be crazier than I thought! Has Doctor Olsen left for home, yet?"
"Yes, Doctor.” The orderly shrugged again and again.
"Dammit, Harry. I don't need this. Come on, let's see if we can find her. And stop shrugging your damn shoulders all the time!"
"Sorry, Doctor. If I knew this would happen I would have brought my hound dogs to work today."
Much to Doctor Hoffmann's distress, they never did find Colonel Ellie Jackson. He worried what would happen to him once President Jackson found out what had happened to his daughter.
#
Seraphine and her husband, the ambassador of France to Canada, were enjoying a late lunch when a man entered carrying a letter for the ambassador. Due to his clothes Seraphine could tell that the man was a clerk of some kind. He was cleanly dressed, but everything were not quality items like her husband's. This man wore simple brown trousers and white shirt with a plaid vest over it. The most telling to her were the bands around his sleeves to keep them from falling over his hands and getting in the way. Such men couldn't afford fancy everyday shirts tailor-made to their 'exact' size. Oh, maybe one or two for fancy dress, but not every day, like her husband could afford. She looked at the white sleeves of her husband's proper sized shirt and vest. They matched him perfectly--one barely noticed that he had a large belly unless one had seen him naked. For some odd reason, Seraphine had developed feelings of love for the fat fool, much like one would have for an ugly pet that had always been around.
"What is it, dear?" Seraphine asked with a look that didn't betray her knowledge of what the letter would say.
"Well, let's see." He opened the letter and read it. "Mmmm."
"What?"
"It would appear that I'm supposed to go to a conference of some sort in Michigan, CSA. I'll take this to Roger after we finish eating, my love."
Roger was his annoying little secretary, who always seemed underfoot.
"Mmm. Do you wish to come? Probably be boring."
"Oh, I don't mind. Where in Michigan?"
"We'll be staying at the home of General Frank James and his wife, Mrs. Ashton James."
Seraphine smiled and took a sip of red wine. She enjoyed the taste in her mouth for longer than usual as she thought of what was to come. She needed to inform her Martian contact that everything was going on schedule as they had planned it.
#
Jeremiah Klein and George Donaldson were handed over to the local Canadian police. The two of them were locked in a jail cell. Klein lay on the cot and laughed.
"What's so funny, Jeremiah?" George asked from where he stood against the wall.
"Didn't you hear, Captain Parsons and his people are on their way to Michigan? And you and I are meeting them down there. I'm going kill that Hirohira bastard. Maybe I'll steal his fancy lacquered bamboo hat, too."
George listened to his friend laugh for a while. "How are we getting out of here?"
"Shut up and get away from the window, George," Abbie whispered from outside.
Klein and George looked at the window.
Abbie had stuck some dynamite in the window. "Are you sure this ain't too much, Jeremiah?" she said.
"Light it, girl." Klein smiled. He squatted and covered his head. George did the same. Abbie lit the fuse and disappeared from the window.
A moment later, there was an explosion. Rocks, pebbles and dirt flung against the two men. The sound was deafening. Klein felt it in the marrow of his bones and his very beating heart. But he was alive...and free.
"What the bloody hell was that!?" someone shouted.
Abbie returned with weapons. She handed a revolver to Klein and an old rifle to George. "I got horses tied up nearby," she said.
Klein turned and shot a policeman who ran up to the door of their cell. "Not a good day for you," Klein laughed.
The three of them got on the horses. More policemen sprinted after them as they rode off.
"I got another bastard, George!" he shouted. "You'd better work harder!"
"I thought you considered this fun stuff and not work, Jeremiah," George said.
"Shut up!"
It wasn't long before the Mounties were after them, but George was an expert at tracking and thus knew how best to throw them off the trail.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Family.
Hirohira caressed the nape of Sheiko's neck as she gazed up at him from where she lay on the bed.
Why do things keep tearing us apart? Stop lying to yourself, Hirohira. You ran away from her and volunteered to go to Hawaii. Love? Responsibility? Am I ready for them now, when I wasn't before?
"What is it, Hirohira?" Sheiko said.
They had just made love in her bedroom and now cuddled facing each other. There was also something else...a feeling or some sixth sense that his shinobi training had caused him to 'see'. Joy? Lust? Satisfaction? Love?
"What? Oh, I have to go," Hirohira's finger brushed across her temple to the top of her cheekbone. He wanted to remember every part of her body-her touch, taste and scent. All! "The Kaede will be leaving soon."
"That's okay." Sheiko squeezed his buttocks. "I plan to change my location to California. Somewhere nearby Santa Barbara or something—so we can be together."
"Really?" Hirohira leaned down to lick her breast and tasted his own sweat on her flesh. "I didn't know if you would do that. I feared it would be over again."
"This time," Sheiko said as he leaned back to look into her yellowish eyes. "Let's decide for ourselves if this is over or not."
"I want us to be together forever," Hirohira said. "We could get married this time."
"I want that too. We'll need to contact our families for their approval."
"I don't see why they wouldn't. I can't tell you where we are going, but we won't get back to California immediately."
The Mighty Airship Kaede. (The Mighty Airships of Earth. Book 1) Page 14