The Virtuous Feats of the Indomitable Miss Trafalgar and the Erudite Lady Boone

by Geonn Cannon

  Like Threnody’s workshop the decay of their tenement was a carefully orchestrated deception. The spoils of her career were stored in the reinforced basement of the home. The items she brought home were too dangerous to leave where they were found, and she shuddered what would happen if some grave-robber happened to get his hands on some of them. So she brought them back and kept them safe with a double layer of protection: a vault and an appearance of deterioration. She lived with Adeline and Leola lived in a proper home that was surrounded by the shell of the crumbling brick. They had all the amenities of those who lived in the more elite parts of the city without drawing attention to themselves. She often thought of Lady Boone and her extravagant townhouse, the sprawling three-property fortress which all but beckoned thieves to try their luck.

  Adeline parked the car in the only alley on the street wide enough to accommodate it, then Trafalgar and Leola helped conceal it using bins and empty wooden crates. Most people in the neighborhood knew Trafalgar, knew to trust her and that she was willing to fight for them as tirelessly as she fought for herself. They left her things alone for the most part but there was no sense in tempting fate. Adeline led them back to the street, and Leola took the rear for the walk back to their building.

  Adeline started up the front steps but froze halfway up. She turned and scanned the street with an odd expression on her face.

  “Is everything all right?” Trafalgar asked.

  Adeline nodded slowly and allowed her expression to break into a full smile. “It’s quiet. All the noise. The chatter? It’s stopped. For the first time, I can’t hear anything. The future has finally gone quiet.”

  Trafalgar had a moment of intense fear for what that meant before a bullet caught Adeline just above her left eyebrow. Her blood sprayed across the front of the building and drops of it landed on Trafalgar’s face as her friend fell back onto the stone steps. Leola grabbed Trafalgar’s shoulders and hauled her to the side as another bullet chipped the masonry of their building. Leola pushed Trafalgar into the shadows next to the stairs and draw her own revolver. Trafalgar started to lean forward but Leola pushed her back.

  “Where is it coming from?”

  “I can’t see,” Leola said. Another bullet sank into Adeline’s body with a sickeningly flat sound, like a blackjack thudding against a speed bag. Tears burned the corners of Trafalgar’s eyes, a mixture of anger and grief at the thought of her friend being violated in that manner. Leola straightened slightly and fired at a window across the street.

  “The butcher’s,” she said. “The second floor of the butcher’s. On the north side.”

  Trafalgar pushed away from the wall and remained crouched as she moved to the kerb. She doubted a shooter from the vantage point Leola had given her would be able to hit a target at that angle, and she risked a quick dash across the street without cover. Bullets chipped the brickwork of the road but not even the chips got close enough to harm her. The alley door was locked, a fact she only discovered after she had used her shoulder as a battering ram to shove it open. The shrapnel from the destroyed lock pelted harmlessly off her coat as she took a moment to get her bearings. Large industrial sinks to the right, with grisly cuts of meat hanging from hooks just beyond. To the left a wooden cage that constituted the manager’s office and a staircase leading up.

  She flicked her wrist as Threnody had demonstrated and the emei piercers fell into her hand. She pounded up the stairs, her coat flaring behind her as she reached the second floor landing and nearly collided with someone attempting to escape. He was a small man wearing a balaclava and dark clothing. She grabbed the shooter’s arms and used her forward momentum to swing the shooter like a dumbbell, letting herself fall and hurling her opponent back the way he had come from. He dropped his weapon and it clattered out of reach across the floor as Trafalgar got to her feet and advanced on him.

  “You killed my friend,” she hissed through clenched teeth.

  “I was aiming for you.”

  “You’ll die slowly, wishing you had better aim.”

  He threw himself at her and Trafalgar spun her piercers. The motion made him believe she’d thrown something and he ducked to one side to avoid a projectile. His attempt to evade threw him off balance, and Trafalgar caught his shoulder with the edge of one blade. He cried out and reared back to free himself, tearing flesh and muscle in the process. He stumbled from the pain and Trafalgar withdrew a quarterstaff from a deep inner pocket of her coat. She swung it underhand, catching the man on his chin and lifting him off his feet.

  When he fell, Trafalgar pounced on him. He fought to get free but she pinned his arms to his sides and placed one blade against his throat.

  “You will never know what a precious life you extinguished today.” She felt tears on her cheeks but refused to acknowledge them. “Adeline Okoro. Say it.”

  He stared at her through the opening in his mask and she applied pressure to his throat.

  “Adeline Okoro.” The lower half of the mask moved with his lips.

  “Who sent you to kill me?”

  “Dorothy Boone.”

  Trafalgar set her lips in a firm line and pulled her arm to the side. The blade slit the sniper’s throat, and she held him down until every twitch of life was gone from his body. His blood pooled around her on the floor and, when she stood, she saw it had stained the tail of her coat. It wouldn’t be the first blood she had washed from the leather, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. She touched the sleeve to her cheek and smeared Adeline’s blood with her tears, then began searching the assassin for clues as to his identity. She found nothing but a few pounds, some extra ammunition, and a dangerous looking blade. Whoever he was, he was smart enough not to carry anything that would identify him. She took off his mask and made note of his features, then left him to finish bleeding out in the abattoir.

  Her feet were heavy as she returned to the ground floor, her hands shaking as she collapsed the emei piercers and concealed them back up her sleeve. She crossed the street and saw that Leola, rather than coming to her aid to capture the sniper, had taken the time to retrieve Adeline’s body and carry it into the house. Trafalgar looked at the blood that had been spilled all over the entry of their home and stared. Adeline, the scared girl who heard voices in her head, who spoke to ghosts and frightened the other children by answering questions they hadn’t asked. Adeline who had been quickly pushed out of three foster homes by asking about her new parents’ deepest and darkest secrets. Eventually Trafalgar gave up trying to find a home for her and invited her to stay with her permanently. The girl was a treasure, and her mind had been opened to the world on a level others couldn’t hope to achieve. The bastard across the street had silenced her voice with a single stupid bullet.

  Inside, Leola was already sitting vigil over their fallen friend. She had stretched Adeline out on the parlor table, a piece of cloth wrapped around her head to keep the blood from spilling out onto the floor. The stomach of her blouse was also torn open by the postmortem bullets. Leola looked up, her face streaked with dark tracks of her tears, and her lower lip trembled.

  “He’s dead.”

  “Did he suffer?”

  “Not enough.” Trafalgar slipped off her jacket and let it fall to the floor. She knelt at the end of the table and framed Adeline’s head with her hands. She bent forward and placed a tender kiss between her eyebrows. “I am sorry for doing this to you, Adeline. I... I am glad you heard the silence for once before you went. I know you dreamed of what it would be like to hear only the now. I am grateful you were given that small blessing.”

  Leola, a woman Trafalgar had once seen take a nail through her hand without making a sound, choked back a sob.

  “We will punish the one who did this to you.”

  “Who?” Leola asked. “Who hired the shooter?”

  Trafalgar’s lip curled, her eyes darkening as she forced her lips to frame the disgusting words. “Lady Dorothy Boone. The man across the street died swiftly, and rightly so
. He was only a tool. But Lady Boone shall suffer for the life she took today. I shall see to it personally.”

  Chapter Three

  The paths of Dorothy Boone and Trafalgar of Abyssinia first crossed six years earlier, in Istanbul. Reports of a stone road spotted underwater led many experts to believe they had found remnants of a buried city. It was common knowledge that Istanbul had been built and destroyed several times over, always a large and strategic port city in ancient times. If the stone road led to the ruins of a forgotten past version of the great city, untold treasures could be waiting to be discovered. Dorothy immediately began planning an expedition to Turkey, while trying to ignore rumors of another team setting out immediately.

  Once she gained funding, Dorothy set off with a small group of researchers, archaeologists, and professors. They arrived to find the area was already sealed off by a group which had arrived three days earlier and declared the area for themselves. Dorothy ignored the restrictions and crossed the line under cover of darkness. The rest of her team refused to trespass, but Dorothy considered all fair in the pursuit of knowledge. She discovered a submersible hoisted by a metallic cage over the still waters of Lake Kucukcekmece. The expedition members seemed to be out for the night, their tents mostly dark save for one or two lanterns which still flickered.

  Dorothy crossed their campsite as quietly as possible and approached the sub. She had never actually seen a submarine, let alone operated one, but it certainly couldn’t be any more complicated than a car or airship. She remembered the times her friend Minty had let her steer the Skylarker, conveniently forgetting that she had almost crashed them into the dome of St. Paul’s. She put thoughts of past failures out of her mind and carefully traversed the crane holding the cage out over the water.

  As she was trying to find a way into the hull, a pair of figures appeared on the shore. It was difficult to make out details in the darkness but Dorothy could tell the taller of them was carrying a weapon.

  “It would be to your benefit to kindly remove yourself from our vessel.”

  Dorothy remained crouched but lifted her hands to show she was unarmed. “I meant no harm.”

  “Only to steal our tech and supplies.”

  “Where would I have taken it? I only have one course of retreat.” She smiled and held her hands out to indicate the lake. “It’s a large lake but I’m sure you would be able to track me down before long.”

  The tall woman on the shore raised her gun. “I won’t ask you again.”

  Dorothy straightened and held her hands out to either side. “All right. Of course, if you were to fire that here in the dark, you would risk damaging this vessel. I doubt that’s a risk you would be willing to take. In the morning you would be delayed while you searched for damage and even after a thorough inspection there would still be the chance that a seal was grazed or there’s some slight hole that would affect the hull’s viability. Or you could fire over my head, but then you would risk one of the brackets. I highly doubt you would be willing to plunge this thing into the depths like a stone.”

  “Are you willing to take that risk, madam?”

  “Are you?” Dorothy dropped back down and pushed the hatch cover up so it was between her and the shore. As predicted her quarry cursed rather than firing. Dorothy dropped inside, sealed the hatch, and moved forward at a hunched shuffle to the cockpit. The seat was threadbare but surprisingly comfortable, with fat wings that extended to either side of her as if it were trying to give her a hug. A bit of fumbling revealed a gooseneck lamp attached to the control panel. She switched it on and stared at the dials and levers. A yoke steering wheel jutted out from the console in front of her, surrounded by switches and gauges marked with numbers and abbreviations she couldn’t hope to decipher.

  “Okay, Dorothy. You’ve learned more complex things under worse circumstances...” Something banged against the top of the ship. “Perhaps not with quite such a harrowing timetable, but regardless.” She pressed a few likely candidates for the ignition, hoping it didn’t require a key. One of the things she pressed caused a low rumble to begin somewhere behind her. The floor trembled with the force of it, and she felt the vibrations up through the seat. “Ooh.” She shifted her hips slightly and smiled. “A lady could get quite accustomed to that, thank you very much.”

  “Lady Boone! Do not attempt to submerge this vehicle.”

  She smiled and shouted over her shoulder. “My reputation precedes me, I see! But you have me at a disadvantage. Should I know you?”

  “I am Trafalgar of Abyssinia.”

  “Aha! I have heard of you. Well, Miss Trafalgar, I would suggest returning to the crane if you do not wish to get wet.” She wrapped her fingers around a lever and tugged it down. The ship lurched, and the vibration in her seat increased. While appreciated she knew it must be an indication that the engine was straining. Probably not advisable. She pushed the lever back up and listened to the sound of Trafalgar and her associate speaking from atop the vessel. “Damn. Where is the release...”

  Before she could finish the thought, the entire submarine plummeted down to the water. Dorothy hadn’t bothered to strap herself into the seat, so she was lifted into the air and dropped back down hard. “Crumbs,” she muttered, grabbing the yoke rather than rubbing her sore posterior. She assumed Trafalgar had disconnected the ship from its mooring rather than risk damage by letting Dorothy futz with the controls. Probably a wise decision.

  “I appreciate the assistance. If you’re still there, I should warn you I still intend to submerge.”

  “I won’t allow you to abscond with this vessel.”

  Dorothy rolled her eyes. “Have it your way.” She found a handle labeled BALLAST and pushed it up. The submarine groaned and its weight shifted toward the stern. Above her she heard Trafalgar and the other woman stumbling to keep their balance. She gripped the padded handles of the yoke. She wanted to reach the lake’s floor, and she was confident that would happen no matter what she did to the controls. The hard part would be getting back to the surface, but she would cross that bridge when the time came.

  #

  Adeline had awoken Trafalgar with an urgent clicking of her tongue, patting Trafalgar’s arm and then covering her mouth to prevent her from speaking at full voice. They had only bedded down thirty minutes earlier and Trafalgar’s mind was muddied by being yanked back from the precipice of REM sleep. Adeline cut through the fog with the simple warning that someone was in their camp. Trafalgar threw on her coat, grabbed a gun, and led Adeline out into the main camp. She saw the intruder moving stealthily through the scattered tents, a shadow among shadows and almost as silent. A convenient fall of moonlight revealed the woman’s features to her, and Trafalgar recognized her from the society pages as Lady Dorothy Boone. She had yet to meet the woman in person, and she felt it unfortunate they would be introduced under such inauspicious circumstances.

  She and Adeline approached the shore, drawing Lady Boone’s attention before they even said a word. Trafalgar squared her shoulders and raised her voice to be heard and also in the hopes of alerting the other members of their expedition about what was happening. “It would be to your benefit to kindly remove yourself from our vessel.”

  Trafalgar didn’t believe for a moment Boone would listen to her warning, so she was unsurprised when after a brief exchange of taunts the woman lifted the hatch and jumped down inside. Trafalgar and Adeline clambered up onto the crane and made their way to the submersible. Adeline stood astride the hatch and took a deep breath. She closed her eyes and rolled her head one way, then the other. She was shutting out the present to look inward, to dig through the barrage of the possible and likely futures to find the one that was reality. Trafalgar was fascinated by the dedication it took to sift through everything so quickly, like listening to an orchestra and attempting to hear a single string of a particular violin.

  As Adeline tried to focus her thoughts and visions, Trafalgar dropped to one knee and shouted to be heard inside the ship
.

  “Lady Boone! Do not attempt to submerge this vehicle.”

  The reply came from within the belly of the ship, shouted and full of echoes. “My reputation precedes me, I see! But you have me at a disadvantage. Should I know you?”

  “I am Trafalgar of Abyssinia.”

  “Aha! I have heard of you. Well, Miss Trafalgar, I would suggest returning to the crane if you do not wish to get wet.”

  Trafalgar grimaced and looked up at Adeline. “Do you see anything?”

  “Thick smoke. Fire. She’s going to destroy the engine. We have to disconnect from the crane or she’ll burn the entire works.”

  “Try to get that hatch open.” She stood and saw a group of men gathered on the shore. She got their attention and said, “Release the ship!”

  Most of them didn’t move, hopefully reluctant to follow her command while she was standing on top of it, but one man moved to the console and began typing. The chain holding the submersible aloft released, and Trafalgar fell as the world seemed to drop out from under her. She grabbed hold of a curled edge in time to prevent herself from tumbling down the curved body of the vessel into the water. Adeline was flat on her stomach, clutching the hatch with both hands. Trafalgar crawled to where she was in time to hear Boone’s voice echoing from within.

  “--you’re still there, I should warn you I still intend to submerge.”

  “I won’t allow you to abscond with this vessel.”

  Boone responded, but not loud enough for Trafalgar to make out the words. Adeline grunted and started to slide.