Order of the Air Omnibus: Books 1-3

by Melissa Scott

  "Try not to kill anybody," Mitch said.

  "That would be hard to explain," Lewis replied.

  "Sure," Mitch said. The other two had gained the shed. They'd be working their way as close as possible to the end of the building against the mountain and the windows there. Those windows were boarded, but they hadn't had any way to nail the boards in place. They were just propped and braced with a turned over table, and there was no way they'd stop anybody for more than a couple of minutes. "Lewis, down to the right."

  At that moment there was the crash of the table toppling backwards. Two men pushed, breaking out the last of the window frame in a tinkle of remaining glass. Mitch swung around and fired, his arm not yet at full extension.

  "Yow!" One of them lunged back, clutching at his arm, the other dragging him down against the outside wall.

  Lewis looked up, one eyebrow rising. "I thought you said not to kill anybody."

  "I just winged him," Mitch said sheepishly. It had been pure instinct. "I think."

  The two men against the wall made a run for the shed and Lewis shot after them, a wide shot that pinged the corrugated steel of the roof, ringing like a cowbell.

  There was a long silence. Dust motes drifted in the beams of sunlight coming in through the upper windows, the last rays of the day on the longest night of the year.

  "Think we scared them off?" Lewis asked quietly.

  Mitch shook his head. "I'm not betting on it."

  Alma pitched the Dude into a steep dive, shedding altitude as quickly as she dared. Stasi said Kirsch's men were back; Lewis and Mitch were armed and ready, but there was no way they could hold Kirsch off for very long. She could see the mine buildings just ahead and to her right, the mountain rising above them. There was a truck pulled up in the open space where the railhead had been going to be, a car tucked in behind it, and there were five or six men on the ground outside. The sound of the air changed as Jerry rolled the cabin window down, and the Dude's balance shifted slightly. Alma touched the rudder to compensate, glanced over her shoulder a final time. Jerry was on his knees in the right hand seat, hanging on with one hand, the first of Tesla's bombs ready in the other. Tesla had the other bombs ready, laid out neatly in groups of three.

  She saw all that in an instant, before she focused on the group outside the mine. The last radio message had said Lewis and the others were inside and going to stay inside, trying to keep Kirsch out as long as possible, and that meant anyone on the ground was an enemy. She steadied the Dude twenty feet above the treetops, low and level, tipped right wing down to give Jerry his best aim. She saw him move, once, then twice, and then she rolled left, banking away from the mountain behind the minehead. She heard a bang, then saw a brilliant flash and another bang, the figures scattering for cover.

  "Come around again!" Jerry yelled, but she was already lining up for another pass.

  She brought the Dude in lower this time, barely at treetop level, heard the bang as another of the flash powder bombs landed, and then a weird shrill whistle that ended in a frenzied popping like a string of firecrackers. Another bang followed, and another, and she pulled the Dude up sharply as they reached the trees on the far side of the mine.

  "I believe they're shooting at us," Tesla called.

  "Jesus!" Jerry said, in almost the same instant, and Alma risked a backward glance. "Al, they're shooting —"

  "What kind of gun?"

  Jerry paused. "Pistols, I think? I didn't see anything bigger."

  "That can't do much harm," Alma said. Unless a bullet hit her, or severed a control cable, or damaged a control surface — it might punch a hole in the gas tank, but unless it caused a spark, the Dude probably wouldn't explode. She pulled back on the yoke, scrambling for altitude, the motor straining. The Dude rose into the late afternoon sunlight, and she banked again, choosing her line.

  Outside the mine, the packed snow was spread with fans of burnt powder where the flash bombs had landed. The one electric bomb was spinning like a dying top, still spraying gusts of sparks. Two of Kirsch's men had taken shelter beside the tumble-down shed that had held the mine's donkey engine, and two more crouched beside a heap of spoil. The rest of them were huddled by the truck, and even as she watched, one of them jerked to his feet and dragged himself into the cab. A good sign, if they were planning to run, but if not…

  "Use the electric bombs," she shouted and saw Jerry lift a hand in answer.

  Speed, she thought. If they were shooting, speed was her friend. She let the Dude climb further, up into the last of the sunlight, filtered by thin cloud at ten thousand feet. She could see her line then, and turned the Dude on its wingtip, over and down like a stone, arrowing for the ground. One of the men by the shed made a break for the truck, then darted back, arms up to protect his head. Lewis, she guessed, shooting from inside the mine. He wouldn't miss much at that distance, and she hoped he'd remember they'd be better off if Kirsch's men got away.

  And there was her mark, and she hauled back on the wheel, leveling out a hundred feet above the ground. She could see one of the men taking aim, then another, felt the Dude rock as Jerry tipped more bombs out the window. There was a smaller bang, and a sound of breaking glass, but she didn't dare look, concentrating on pulling up and away. Light flashed behind her, a fountain of sparks from the first bomb, then the flash and bang of powder, then sparks again and a sudden vivid crack of blue fire bright as lightning.

  "Jesus!" Jerry said again, and she looked back to see him fumbling with a piece of the floor matting, trying to brace it across the rearmost window on Tesla's side. A bullet must have hit it, but Tesla didn't seem to care, twisting to see the effects of his bombs.

  "That's very interesting —"

  Kirsch's men by the shed broke for the truck, hurling themselves across the snow and into the car drawn up behind it. Kirsch was yelling at them, waving his pistol, but it didn't look like he was getting very far. A moment later, he'd pulled himself into the cab, and both car and truck turned for the access road, tires sliding and gripping in the snow.

  "Leave the window, Jerry," Alma yelled. "We're going after them."

  Jerry waved a hand in answer, dropping the mat, and dropped back into his seat.

  "Let's make sure they stay gone," Alma said, almost to herself, and banked the Dude.

  It was harder to follow them on the winding road, the steep slope on one side and the overhanging trees cutting off her view. Jerry lobbed another flash bomb after them anyway, and it hit with a satisfying crack and flash. Three miles on, the road leveled for a brief instant, and Alma dove on them again. She caught a brief glimpse of someone hanging out the car's window, trying to get a shot at her, but then Jerry had dropped two more bombs, and the car swerved and skidded before it disappeared into the trees again.

  "I don't think they're coming back," Jerry shouted, and Alma nodded, banking the Dude into a rising turn. Kirsch's men were still making tracks for Colorado Springs, taking the snowy road at reckless speed, and she reached for the radio.

  "Stasi? Stasi, can you hear me?"

  "I hear you." Stasi sounded unusually subdued. "They've gone. And we're all fine."

  "They're still making tracks for town," Alma said. "I think there's a chance we've run them off permanently."

  "I don't know —"

  "Tell Lewis I'm putting down in the clearing where the Ford landed. Can he bring the truck to collect us?"

  "Just a minute, darling, I'll ask."

  Alma circled the mine, frowning at the light. The sun was well below the rim of the mountain; she needed to land soon, or head back to a lighted field. Not to mention that it was four-thirty, and the device was supposed to go off again in twenty-five minutes. Was there more static on the frequency, or was that just her imagination?

  "Alma. Lewis says he'll follow you there."

  "Roger that," Alma answered. "See you soon."

  Jerry pulled himself into the co-pilot's seat, fumbling with the seatbelt. "I've got Dr. Tesla strappe
d in," he said. "Are you really going to try it?"

  "Oh, yes." Alma nodded. "Piece of cake."

  Jerry stared at her. "And when was the last time you landed in an open, unprepared, snow-covered field? No, on second thought, don't answer that!"

  Alma grinned in spite of herself, and banked left, searching for the break in the trees. Yes, there it was, a nice long open stretch, perfect for the rail terminal if that had ever been finished, and definitely long enough for the Dude to land. Takeoff might be a bit tight, but she'd worry about that later. The main thing was to get Tesla up to the mine.

  The wrecked Ford was still crumpled at the end of the clearing, one wing shattered against the trees. It had left a long trail in the snow, still visible in spite of the earlier snows, and she circled twice, studying it. The Guard trucks hadn't cut up the ground much at all, and it looked as though this was her best bet. And she'd need to do it soon, before the light went any further.

  She brought the Dude around a final time and skimmed the length of the track once, skis just touching the snow. She felt no major obstacles, and came round to make a second pass, then a third, packing the snow a little more each time before she lined up for the landing. She dropped in over the trees and the broken Ford, shedding speed and altitude as fast as she dared. She was still too fast as she skimmed the snow, kissed it once, twice, the skis rattling, then dumped the last of the lift. The Dude dropped hard, fighting her, tail still up and no control, and she kicked the rudder, trying to get some kind of steering. The tail came down, swerving hard to the left; she fought it back, no brakes, just the control surfaces to slow her, flaps down and the trees still coming, fast, too fast. She held on to the bucking wheel, and at last the Dude slowed enough for her to swing it into a wide circle. One ski tugged and sank in the unpacked snow, but she gunned the motor and pulled free on to the harder pack. Through the trees, she could see the lights of the truck, picking its way down the access road, and brought the Dude to a stop.

  "Nice flying," Jerry said, in a strangled voice, and the truck pulled to a stop, Lewis opening the door to wave from the running board.

  They made it back to the mine in deepening twilight, which made the lights crawling behind the mine windows even brighter by contrast. Mitch and Stasi were outside, Stasi hunched in her best coat, which didn't seem to be doing much to cut the wind, but she waved a hand in greeting.

  "Darling! You're just in time for the fireworks."

  Mitch nodded, glancing at his watch. "We've got less than five minutes — nice flying, Al."

  "Thanks," Alma said, sliding out of the back of the truck. Lewis came around to help Jerry, and together they grabbed Tesla's satchel and the Dude's toolkit.

  "Very interesting," Tesla said. "Very interesting indeed."

  "I wouldn't go in there, sir," Mitch began, but Tesla ignored him, brushing past him into the flickering light.

  "Dr. Tesla?" Alma said, and started to follow, but Lewis caught her arm.

  "Wait."

  Through the open door, Alma could see the strands of electricity crawling down the legs of the device, a weird blue-violet that was both vividly bright and strangely hard to see. Tesla stood near the base, staring up at it expectantly, just as he'd stood in the lab in town all those years before. And then there was a crack of light and sound, enough to jar the ground under her feet, but Tesla never moved.

  "There's a safe spot," Jerry said, in her ear. "That's how — there has to be."

  "Fascinating." Tesla's voice carried in the echoing silence. "That's not at all what it was supposed to do."

  Alma saw Lewis and Mitch exchange looks, and then Mitch cleared his throat.

  "Be that as it may, Dr. Tesla, there are some nasty and determined people after that thing. And we need your help."

  "Of course." Tesla gave him a cheerful smile. "Let's see what I can do."

  "And in the meantime," Lewis said, "let's get under cover."

  Lewis followed Alma and Tesla across the open space of the mine building. His heart had slowed from the rush of the fight and now he felt loose and hyperalert, ready to take on anything. It was illusion, he knew. There were plenty of things he couldn't and shouldn't take on, but right now he coasted on a natural high of pure adrenaline.

  "I imagine they'll be back," Dr. Tesla was saying. "Very inconvenient. But it should take them some hours to restore their shattered nerves."

  "And then what?" Mitch asked. "The Guard may get up here tomorrow, but we can't hold off an army, and Al can't pull that stunt again in the dark."

  Alma nodded. "The temperature is dropping and we're going to have to try to stay warm in the mine office. The main space is too open for body heat to help much, and those upper windows are broken out."

  Tesla looked pleased. "Fortunately, I have plans for eventualities." He stopped just short of the minehead, his eyes twinkling. "Did you really think I had a lab that I couldn't heat? In Colorado in the winter?"

  Alma blinked. "This space is wide open and I don't see any kind of furnace."

  "Not up here, my dear," Tesla said. He reached in his pocket and pulled out a metal cylinder, then stretched up and inserted it into the first light bulb socket in the row at the minehead. "Down there." The bulbs all lit, a row of bright light leading into the mountain.

  "How did you…" Alma began.

  "All in good time," Tesla said, and set off down the ore tracks into the mine.

  Behind Lewis, Stasi said to Mitch in a stage whisper, "You see? I told you he was a vampire."

  Tesla stopped and turned back. "Nonsense, miss," he said with a wink. "There are no such things as vampires. Except for Countess Bathory of course, but I'm sure you know that story.'"

  "Of course, Dr. Tesla," she said. "I'm honored to make your acquaintance."

  "Come along, then," Tesla said, and led the way.

  Mitch raised his voice. "Where are we going?" It seemed that they were following a gentle slope deeper into the mine, squared walls occasionally showing a branching corridor following a vein, shallow and empty. The electric lights above blazed brightly.

  "My lair," Tesla said cheerfully.

  There was a metal door across the corridor set tightly into the walls on either side, maybe an added protection for the active part of the mine or a safe chamber or something -- Lewis wasn't certain. Tesla pushed the door open one handed and they followed him in, Alma stopping in the middle of the room and turning around.

  Lewis blinked. The walls of the room were raw stone, but there the resemblance to a mine ended. It was brightly lit with a furnace in the corner of the room, laboratory tables down the center swept clean of everything but a layer of dust that had accumulated. White metal cabinets lined two walls, while the others held a cot and a blocked off area with a curtain pulled back to show a commode and sink of plain white porcelain. Glassware was neatly arranged in an open fronted cupboard along with Bunsen burners and other equipment. Along the wall beside the door was a complicated console that looked as though it belonged in a radio station, all wires and switches and tubes.

  "These are the controls for Silver Bullet," Tesla said. "It's quite useless without them, I assure you. That's simply the transmitter above. This is the actual device. Oh, and my lab." He swung the metal door closed and dropped the locking bar across it. "And they'd need a blow torch to get in. And a considerable amount of time to use it."

  Alma laughed in sheer delight. "This is wonderful! This is amazing!"

  "I thought you would like it," Tesla said with a little courtly bow. "Now if we can get the furnace going, we should be completely comfortable. I expect the tinned food has given out, however, so unless…."

  "We have food," Mitch said, putting a pack down on one of the lab tables. "Dinner, anyone?"

  They ate sandwiches perched on metal stools around the lab table. By this time Lewis was actually hungry, and relief made him curious. "Why did you build this lab all the way out here, Dr. Tesla?"

  Tesla looked across the table at him, fi
xing him with a rather intense gaze. "Can you imagine trying to build this in town? The city fathers were somewhat upset with me after some other experiments didn't entirely go as planned."

  "He electrified the sewer system," Alma said with a glance sideways at Tesla. "It was terrific!"

  "I'm glad Miss Sullivan enjoyed it," Tesla said. "Unfortunately others weren't so amused. It seemed that renting a space far enough from town that unfortunate side effects wouldn't be observed was the wisest course." He folded his hands. "My goal was the wireless transmission of electricity, freeing devices from the plug to the wall and making electricity free to everyone, anywhere, any time. This device was the first step toward atmospheric transmission."

  "Only it didn't work," Mitch guessed.

  "Not as planned," Tesla said primly. "I believe you can see that it works."

  "It works brilliantly!" Stasi said. "I've never seen a more wonderful death ray!"

  "I imagine you've never seen another death ray at all." The corner of Tesla's mouth twitched.

  "Not per se," Stasi said, her expression animated. "But I've seen a few mysterious devices in my time and this is absolutely the most interesting."

  "I shall have to find out what other mysterious devices you've seen," Tesla said. Lewis got the distinct impression they were playing with each other. "I shouldn't want this one to fail to measure up."

  "Oh, it's head and shoulders above the others," Stasi assured him.

  Jerry cleared his throat. "The problem is how to we prevent these men from taking it. They're not going to give up easily. We may have scared them back to town, but I don't think we've scared them off for good." He looked at Lewis. "Do you?"