by Geonn Cannon
“For the time being. What was odd about the message, Minty?”
“Other than the fact there is no reason for two unrelated ships to keep each other apprised of their movements? The message contained none of the standard identifying codes, no hails, nothing that would indicate it had been sent from the communications officer. In fact, it’s almost as if someone sat down at an unattended station and sent the message without the proper training. There were two letters at the end, and I assume they were someone’s initials.”
“I.S.?” Dorothy guessed.
Araminta touched the side of her nose and closed one eye. “Got it in one. I’ll refrain from asking how you set that up. For now we’re keeping course, but the message also relayed our opposition’s next stop. Ladies, I hope you packed for warmer temperatures. We’re going to Rome.”
Chapter Twelve
The communications officer aboard the Kestrel opened the door to the head, peered out, and carefully shut the door behind him before starting back toward the front of the gondola. The passengers on this trip were a bunch of demanding bastards and creepy as anything, and he told himself they had made him paranoid and confused. But there was some downright strange things happening on the ship and they’d been happening since they took off. Footsteps in empty hallways, the smell of perfume... faint, but there. He would feel eyes on him but when he turned around he would be alone on the passerelle. His skin crawled even when none of the passengers were nearby.
His captain saw him slinking down the corridor and barked his name. “What in the devil are you doing?”
“Sorry, Captain. Just visiting the head, sir.”
“Did you soil yourself? Why are you walking that way?”
“I... n-no, sir. Just, uh, just... jumpy, I s’pose.”
The captain rolled his eyes. “Back to your station. We’ll be at the North Sea soon.”
“Aye, sir.”
He went to his station on the bridge, pushed his hair out of his eyes, and looked at the console. To his surprise, it seemed as if a message had gone out while he was in the loo. The message itself hadn’t been copied, and there was no way of telling who received it. He checked the tape and saw the messages he remembered sending. If it wasn’t for the gap in the records he wouldn’t even have noticed the errant delivery. He sucked his bottom lip into his mouth and looked over his shoulder to see the captain standing at the window the watch their progress.
First slinking back from the head looking like a scared cat, now claiming there were ghost messages being sent from his station? He’d be relieved from duty at best or sent to a headshrinker. The best case scenario was that he’d get a reputation for being spooked easily. They’d give him hell, they’d give him nicknames... no. It would be best if the ghost message remained just that, and vanished into the firmament.
He scrolled the tape forward and settled in. As he did, he could have sworn he heard a woman laughing over his shoulder. But as he suspected, when he turned to look, there wasn’t a woman in sight.
#
They could see the Kestrel when the ships were angled properly in relation to one another. The Skylarker turned to follow a bend in the river and exposed their port side to the west. Dorothy and Trafalgar stood at the windows in the galley. Trafalgar had found the ship’s mascot, a small dappled cat named Ditto, and held it in her arms, scratching the docile creature under its chin. Dorothy pointed out the ship that chugged along behind them at a distance of ten or fifteen miles.
“There they are. Who knows how many members of the Watershed Society are aboard that ship, on their way to what they believe to be their treasure.”
Trafalgar said, “And what is to prevent them from simply shooting us out of the sky?”
“Other than the fact these ships aren’t equipped with weapons anymore? They were caught flat-footed. They wanted to take their time and get patrons to fund this trip but we forced them to start before they were ready. They think we know more than we do, and they believe time is of the essence. They won’t waste time with us when they can go directly to their prize and prevent us from advancing.”
“These men have proven they aren’t shy when it comes to murdering people who stand in their way. They killed at least nine people because it was convenient.”
“They blindsided us, taking us unawares. They hid behind sniper rifles, they employed subterfuge. They acted cowardly because they are cowards. We have the advantage of knowing they are coming this time. We can prepare for their attacks. And there is one more thing making me confident.” She turned to face Trafalgar. “We are working together.”
Trafalgar raised an eyebrow. “And that is a benefit in your eyes.”
“We are enemies because we are professional rivals. But I respect you, and I can admit you are an excellent fighter.”
“You are recalling the time we grappled over a cabriolet to reach the train station before it departed.”
Dorothy said, “I’m sure I don’t remember what you’re talking about. My jaw, on the other hand...” She rubbed her chin as if it were still sore and Trafalgar couldn’t help smiling. “We spent a lot of time in conflict with one another. I believe it’s made us both stronger and smarter. With a common enemy I have little doubt that we will come out victorious.”
The ship took another slight change in trajectory and the Kestrel dropped out of sight. Trafalgar said, “What shall we do while we await further word from Ivy?”
“I brought the journal we found at Quintel’s home. I’ve poked at it a little to see what I could translate from the code but so far I haven’t made any headway. I thought perhaps you could offer some insight that I lacked.”
“The two of us, working together,” Trafalgar said.
Dorothy shrugged and walked toward one of the booths. “We’ve been thrown together by circumstance. The number of people doing what we do has been greatly diminished in the past thirty hours, largely due to the fact that none of us could trust one another. We could finish this quest and return to business as usual, or we can learn from it. We can test the waters to see if we work well together. I’m willing to give it a chance.”
Trafalgar sat across from her. “Of course you are willing.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means that by joining forces, I bring much more to the table than you could.”
Dorothy offered a mock laugh. “Yes, I am quite sure I would be lost without your bullheaded approach to situations.”
“If you had your way we would still be watching the guards outside the Quintel house.”
“And if you were on your own, there is no chance you could have found an airship to take you to Rome at a moment’s notice.”
Leola spoke up. “Sounds like a mutually beneficial partnership to me.”
They both looked at her, the anger of their exchange dissipating from her interjection. She had left the room to see what was available in the galley and had just returned with a small bowl of fruit. She popped a yellow-orange square into her mouth, shrugged as if their confrontation didn’t affect her either way, then continued on her way. Trafalgar and Dorothy looked at one another, and then Dorothy retrieved the journal from her bag. She placed it on the table between them.
“You’ve spent the majority of your life searching for these people. It would be fair to assume you might have a head start on translating it.”
“Thank you,” Trafalgar said.
“Oh.” Dorothy flipped the book open and turned to a page she had marked. “The work of Enoch Solomon, I’ve no doubt.”
Trafalgar looked at the pencil-and-charcoal drawing of her face without betraying any emotion. “He saw me on the docks. I fought back against one of the guards. He stopped them from killing me. Perhaps he thought my willingness to fight would make me a good host for whatever he wished to summon.”
“It would seem that error was his undoing.”
“Yes.” She flipped through a few pages, leaving her portrait behind. It was one of
the final entries, naturally, and she began looking at the pages that preceded it. She noticed patterns, blocked off areas of text with a series of numbers along the top edge of every square. “Plus eleven-thirty-two and minus forty-three nine.”
“Latitude and longitude,” Dorothy said. “I’ve figured out that much at least.”
“Djibouti,” Trafalgar said. “We left from there. Apparently he spent quite a bit of time there preparing for our trip. He made sure everything was in place before he sent his men out to gather us up. His little experiments.”
Dorothy said, “How many children did he gather?”
Trafalgar shook her head. “I have no idea. On the trip I took there were more than two dozen, perhaps as many as fifty. When they believed their plan had worked, I told them to set the girls free in Cairo. I... I’ve never even tried to find out what happened to them.”
“Wait. You survived the journey to Cairo by pretending the plot worked? And then you sold all of Solomon’s items... how long did you continue the pretense of being in control of whatever Solomon tried to summon?”
“Until I was able to book passage to Istanbul. I lost myself in the crowd.”
Dorothy ran a hand over her face and looked out the window. “You were the only one of Watershed’s victims who was not targeted. Everyone else was a direct target, but you... they killed your partner instead.”
Trafalgar said, “You claimed they wished for me to be imprisoned for your death.”
“Nah, that doesn’t work,” Dorothy said absently. “No. They had to have a larger goal for keeping you alive. They think you’re still in their thrall.”
“It’s been twenty years. Certainly they would have realized by now...”
Dorothy shrugged. “Perhaps, perhaps not. The fact remains that you were spared.”
“I was spared because if they had shot at me, Adeline would have seen it and interfered.”
“The fact remains is that despite what happened to Solomon, these people had reason to believe his plan worked. You were a young girl snatched away from her parents and cast into an alien and unforgiving world. Despite having every disadvantage, you managed to thrive in their field.”
“I was only trying to understand what had been done to me.”
Dorothy said, “They won’t see it that way. Yes, they believe you to be a rival. But because they believe you turned rogue. As far as the Watershed Society is concerned, they believe the ritual granted you some power. They believe they turned you from a weak-willed young girl into a formidable opponent.”
Leola said, “If they think she’s the thing they summoned, why are they trying to summon it again?”
Dorothy considered the question. “The ritual was interrupted when you spit out the stone. They don’t know how far along it got, but to their mind there was a definite change in you. How else would a child from the grasslands of Africa be able to tear into their organization the way you have? They know the entity is still waiting for a host but they might believe a part of it was transferred to you. You’re proof the ritual works. Even interrupted it seems to have made you stronger, smarter...”
Trafalgar closed her eyes. “I have spent my entire life fighting that thought. Staring at myself in the mirror and wondering if you are correct, if some... thing was left behind in me. The ritual was underway, the stone was in my mouth. I felt something I cannot describe. And then my entire life changed. I could speak in a new language, although becoming fluent took much time and effort. I walked among people I didn’t recognize on streets that were as alien to me as the moon would have been. And I wondered. I wondered if Solomon had indeed turned me into something I was never supposed to be.”
Dorothy hesitated, then stood up and moved to Trafalgar’s side of the booth. Trafalgar instinctively cringed away from her, but Dorothy took her hand.
“You are yourself. The very fact you’ve been tortured by the question proves to me that there is nothing hitchhiking in your mind. The creature would not only be certain, it would destroy any part of you still capable of doubt.”
Trafalgar smiled slightly and put her hand on top of Dorothy’s so that it was sandwiched between hers. “Thank you, Lady Boone.”
“Dorothy.”
“Sometimes I need to call you Lady Boone just to remember this woman... this woman who is helping me is the same one I’ve spent the past few years cursing.”
Dorothy laughed. “Very well, if that helps. But I hope I can earn your trust enough to be called by my proper name more often than not.”
“You are making good progress on that. Dorothy.”
Dorothy nodded. “Well, then. Now that we have that sorted, if the opportunity arises, would you feel comfortable exploiting their possible belief in your... status? If they think you have some connection to the creature they wish to awaken, we may be able to use that to our advantage.”
“For Adeline’s sake,” Trafalgar said, “I would be willing to move mountains.”
“All right. Let’s begin by seeing what sense we can make of this blasted journal.”
#
As they didn’t have to wait for Watershed to catch up to them, there was no reason for the Skylarker to wait off the coast of Southend-on-Sea. Once they reached the North Sea, Araminta ordered Bodhi to set a course around Botany Bay and heading south toward France. Dorothy was on the bridge when they changed course, and they asked Azitha, the third mate, to keep an eye on their tail. Once they were over open water Azitha reported that the Kestrel had turned south as well, but it seemed they would be traveling overland.
“Trying to make up time,” Araminta posited. “We’ll wait to see what happens in Paris. If it looks like they’re going to overnight, we’ll keep going. If it looks like they’re going to keep going, we’ll have no choice but to keep on.”
Dorothy said, “Can the ‘Lark make it to Rome on a straight shot?”
“Oh, sure. We’ll be near-empty but we won’t be running on fumes. Azitha,” she said, turning to a member of her flight crew, “did you happen to see what model they were in?”
“ZX-XII.”
Araminta grinned. “The twelve? They’re definitely going to stop in Paris, then. Unless they’re planning to crash in Nice. Alert the crew. We’re going nonstop.”
Bodhi nodded and said, “We’ll arrange for a rotating shift.”
Dorothy said, “Is there any way to keep track of them? Make sure they do stop in Paris?”
“Only if your stowaway friend manages to send us another message. But I assure you, they have no other option. That particular vessel has a range of eight hundred miles. That’s why they’re cutting across the land rather than following us over the water. That way Paris is approximately two hundred and fifty miles into their trip. They’ll refuel and continue to Rome, and even then they’ll only just barely make it to Rome with anything in their gas bags. It’ll be a rough trip... they better pray they don’t hit any headwinds or they’ll be without recourse.” She laughed under her breath. “I know you said they departed without a plan but this is reckless even for me. I can’t imagine what they’re paying to get the crew to risk this.”
“Can’t they refuel somewhere further along their route?”
Araminta shook her head. “Nowhere big enough until...”
“Geneva,” Bodhi supplied.
“Thank you. And England’s airships have hardly been welcome to the Swiss ever since the unpleasantness in 1915.”
Dorothy remembered it well; a lost airship had inadvertently bombed a town just over the border of Switzerland. They refused to join Germany’s forces, but they also turned their backs on England. She put thoughts of the War out of her mind.
“We’re fortunate we got the superior ship then, eh?”
Araminta winked at her. “Always bet on the Skylarker when it comes to a race. We should arrive in Rome tomorrow morning at half-two. You and your companions should take an early dinner in order to be awake when we land. I’ll let you know if your friend on the oth
er vessel sends an update about their final destination.”
“I believe we shall. Fair winds, Minty.”
Araminta touched her eyebrow with two fingers and tossed off a salute as Dorothy departed the passerelle. Once she was gone Araminta straightened her jacket and went to take her seat at the command console. They would soon reach the other side of the channel, using the town of Calais as their landmark before turning to follow the coastline of France until it was time to turn south toward Paris. She crossed one leg over the other and smiled as she watched the water stretched out before them. They might not get a monetary reward for this trip, but she could always count on Lady Boone making her journeys worthwhile.
#
After dinner, Trafalgar excused herself to her cabin. Araminta invited her to the passerelle to look at the water before they turned inland, but Trafalgar politely passed. Her first encounter with the ocean had been at night, and seeing the moon reflected in the waves still brought up bad memories for her. Leola excused herself before dinner, and Trafalgar was surprised to find she was still awake. Their cabin was comfortably large, with a bed on either side and a window on the wall directly across from the door. Leola was sitting cross-legged atop her still-made bed, her elbows resting on her knees and hands dangling.
Trafalgar went to the window and closed the blinds before she sat down across from her friend. “You look troubled.”
“I miss Adeline.”
“Ah. I have been trying to focus on the task at hand. We can mourn once her killers have been brought to justice one way or another.”
Leola nodded and twisted her fingers together, watching them like they were a separate creature. “The life you’ve given me, Tiffy, it’s more amazing than I ever could have imagined. I was a bruiser, I was destined to get my brains knocked out one way or another. The men who brought me to Cairo wanted to make me a nursemaid or a governess. I would never have survived. But you gave me a purpose and you showed me things I never even dreamed about. I don’t want to sound ungrateful, but now that I’m a different person...”