Lily Marin - three short steampunk stories

by Paul Kater

glove pointed at her, as if he could shoot a beam of nastiness at her. It was something she would have to be aware of, despite her coat.

  "I must say you have stamina, showing up here. Do tell me why you did not die. You're the first one who survived my mortal touch."

  Lily took her rad-gun and aimed it at the talking 'angel'. "Put down your weapons and your wings. If you surrender, we can do this quickly and painless."

  The man laughed coarsely and brushed his uncovered hand over his jacket. "How cute. A radiation gun. Come on, shoot me."

  Lily fired, but she half expected that it would be useless. It was useless. The particle beam simply bounced away from the man who evidently had activated a deflective field around himself.

  "Again that did not work," the 'angel' stated as he walked towards Lily. He did something that made his wings spread out all the way. It looked impressive but it also sounded like grating mesh metal. These things were mechanical. With an arm stretched out he walked towards Lily, who seemed mesmerised by his approach.

  As he was only a few steps away from the Masked Woman, she grabbed her whip. She cracked it, felt it catch, and yanked. She only got one of his ankles, but that was enough: the angel stumbled backwards and fell onto his backpack.

  The man cursed like a professional, kicked with his legs and managed to sit up. He grabbed something in his coat. A moment later a splutter sounded from behind him and he shot up into the air. The whip was still around his ankle and his sudden speed ripped its grip from Lily's hand.

  Lily did not hesitate for a moment. She grabbed the tube in her pocket and pressed the ruby button. Her flightpack hurled her into the air, faster than the angel went. Her angle was perfect. After speeding upwards, she reached the fake angel, got hold of one of his wings and succeeded in folding it double.

  Holding on to him, she pulled at the tubes that fed his backpack. They came off easily. Then she had to let go of the man, as her own backpack kept pushing her up while he started downwards again, screaming and waving his arms very un-angelically.

  The Masked Woman released the ruby button, cutting the flow of energy inside the backpack. She followed the 'angel' downwards and prepared for a rough landing.

  They had flown quite far she noticed, as the ground sped up to greet her. Just before she slammed into the branches of a tree Lily heard a loud crash from the landing of the disabled angel. Hanging from a branch, she decided she had gotten off lucky this time. A tree was much better than a brick building. She dropped herself to the ground and ran towards the fallen angel.

  The man lay on the ground. The wing that Lily had not folded was now crumpled because of the fall. Parts of his flight gear were scattered around, his helmet had gone. He tried to move away from her, but one of his legs prohibited a fast retreat. It looked convincingly broken.

  Lily looked at him. "Who are you? Where did you get that gear from? And why do you go around killing people at random? Or should I ask why you -did-, as I am not going to let you do it anymore." She pointed at the leg that was in an awkward angle, even a broken one.

  "Don't!" the man yelped. Apparently her mere pointing already hurt. "Don't!"

  "You sound like a broken grammophone," the Masked Woman remarked. "Not so much a talker as you were before, are you? Now answer my questions, or I will give you a real reason to squirm." She put her foot down very close to the broken leg.

  "No, stop, wait!" The fallen angel had located the shrill part of his speech.

  Lily repeated her questions and this time the fallen man was eager to talk. He had helped at a convention of alchemists and inventors, preparing tables, going around with food and beverages. "Seeing all these modern things there made me want them. And one evening when everyone had left, I took a few little things."

  "Like the wings and the flightpack," Lily guessed. "Little things."

  The man did not react to that. "And the glove."

  "Yes. The glove. What is that glove, that you killed people with it by a touch?" Lily slowly brought her rad-gun in sight, to convince the man of her sincere interest.

  "The glove is amazing," the fallen angel said, with some fire in his voice. "It has this thin rubber tube that runs to a small reservoir of poison I wear on my shoulder. And the glove has these very thin needles that spray the poison on touching anything."

  "Really," Lily said. "And what kind of poison is in there that works so fast?"

  "It is some kind of frog poison," the man said, his eyes on the rad-gun with more respect than before the flight and the crash. "Brachotoxin or something."

  "Batrachotoxin by chance?" Lily knew her poisons. Batrachotoxin was the fastest and most lethal frog poison she knew; it would stop a normal person's heart in seconds. Hardly surprising it had made her feel so sick.

  "Could be, yes," the man nodded. "Are you going to report me to the police?"

  "I should, shouldn't I?" Lily looked the man over. He was not in a state to make a rapid getaway. She felt a sudden desire to kick the man's upper arm, to crush the container with the poison. He deserved to die the same way he killed these people. "Why did you go about murdering people?"

  The man, his face pale from the pain in his leg, grimassed. "People have treated me badly all my life. This was my chance to return the favour."

  The Masked Woman could not bear hearing more. She lashed out and rendered the man unconscious. A better fate than he deserved, she thought. The police would find him here. Lily would make sure of that.

  -=-=-

  A few days later, Lily found an interesting article in the newspaper. The police had located a man with artificial wings near the cemetery. He had admitted to being the person that had killed several people and claimed that a flying woman had taken him down. The article reported that the man was an 'acquaintance' of the police. It also mentioned the fact that he had helped at a conference for alchemists and inventors.

  As Lily read the last paragraph, she almost dropped the newspaper: "The police have traced back the names of the inventors whose material has been stolen, and they are kindly requested to contact the local police in order to retrieve their belongings. Their names are Doctor Igor Zacharov and Doctor Herman Drosselmeyer."