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Steampunk Omnibus: A Galvanic Century Collection

Page 34

by Michael Coorlim


  "Yes, luv, soon. For now, though, I need to know you're safe. Go and join your parents."

  "They're not exactly pleased with me right now."

  "I know. Be brave."

  A smile quirked at her mouth. "Thank you. For... for taking charge."

  A chuckle forced its way out of Alton's throat. "Being a busybody is what I do best. Now get a move on; there's work to be done."

  "As you wish, Commander."

  ***

  Lucian Fiske was standing near the glass doors leading out to the bedroom's balcony when Aldora arrived. Her mother rested, still, on the bed.

  "Alton says they want us to make a run for it," Aldora said, walking up behind her father. "We're to fortify in the house."

  "That will be easier on your mother," Lucian said. "I don't think she could manage any sort of flight."

  "How is she?"

  "Unwell."

  "Father--"

  "You have wronged me, daughter."

  Aldora stared at the mechanical men waiting on the other side of the gate. "I had no choice."

  "You killed your brother."

  "He was killing London."

  "You killed my heir. You have cut the throat of the Fiske line."

  Aldora put a hand on the door's pane, feeling the cool glass under her palm. "This isn't about Grayson. It's about the blood."

  "You killed my son, but that I can forgive. As you said, you had reason."

  "He was sick," Aldora said. "Poisoned by the venom of Anarchy running through the Parisian cafes he frequented."

  "He was always wilful. Ungrateful. But he was of our line, Aldora. The end of our line. You killed the Fiske name, and that I cannot forgive."

  She looked at him sharply. "You can forgive the loss of your son but not our name?"

  "The world is full of lost young men, Aldora. There is only one Fiske line. Maybe if I'd made you and Grayson study our genealogy as my father forced me, you would understand the magnitude of this loss."

  "I know it was important to you, father, but what can I do?"

  He looked down at her. "You can give back to me what you've taken."

  "What? I can't bring Grayson back from the dead--"

  "Not the son. The line."

  "What?"

  "Give me a child. Oh, Alton isn't an ideal genetic mix, but the Bartleby name isn't without its worth. If you go back far enough. And a Fiske is a Fiske, even if that Fiske is called a Bartleby."

  Aldora stared out the window in silence, her heart beating faster. "What if that Fiske is a Robinson?"

  "Robinson?" Lucian paused, then slowly turned towards his daughter. "The girl you adopted. She's your--"

  "She doesn't know. No one knows, no one but the father, and he's gone."

  Lucian turned back towards the window. "I will keep your secret and be satisfied. But if she is a Fiske, then she must be raised as one."

  "I understand."

  "Penelope." Her father smiled. "She'll do quite nicely."

  Aldora rested her forehead against the glass, wondering if her daughter would ever forgive this deception.

  ***

  Last Kidnapped European Returns Home

  London, AP -- The nightmare has ended for the last of four European notables to return home from captivity in the Ottoman Empire. Miss Aldora Fiske of Kensington joins the other captives, Comte Montagni of Pisa, Mr. Frank Herbert of Austin, Texas, and Mr. Hans Brugmann of Heinz in their freedom. Miss Fiske declined to comment on the matter, citing a need to rest after her ordeal, but it is reported that she had stayed behind to see the investigation through.

  The four European notables were taken while on holiday at the invitation of Ottoman Empire ruling Young Turk party member Cemal Yavuzade Bey. Papers discovered strongly implicated Yavuzade as part of the plot, but he was found innocent by Ottoman courts. Many have criticised this ruling, citing the evidence against him, and some go so far as to suggest that he was freed to prevent implicating the party.

  Whatever the true matter, the Bey was assassinated by a woman implicated in the plot herself. Their relation to one another, and to Miss Aldora Fiske herself, is at this stage unknown.

  While Miss Fiske declined to give an interview, sources within the London social scene report that Miss Fiske and her long-time fiancée Mr. Alton Bartleby have set a date for their wedding, so one can only assume she has resolved to get on with her life the way a strong British woman should.

  Chapter 7

  The defenders were armed with whatever they could manage. Charles and a few of the other staff had hunting rifles taken from the study, and some of the men had pistols. The Brigadier had his dress sabre, and a few of the others wielded the estate's decorative swords with variable skill. Most of the guests, however, had to make do with tools and implements pressed into service as weapons. The kitchen had been a trove, providing knives, ladles, rolling pins, and fireplace pokers. So armed, the men stood vigil awaiting the onslaught, while the women and children secured themselves in the cellar.

  The cogsmen launched their attack to some unseen signal, the enhanced hydraulics in their legs making bounding the fence a trivial task. The sheer speed of their coordinated rush up the hill to the base of the estate was proof enough that any attempts at escape would have been easily thwarted. The defenders with firearms scarcely had time for a single ineffectual volley before the cogsmen had arrived.

  Alton's plan had placed guardians at the most likely points of ingress based on ability; James and Charles were placed at two of the busiest choke-points, the engineer wielding his spanner like a mace while the footman spun his spent rifle like a quarterstaff. Both were skilled enough to keep the cogsmen facing them at bay; it seemed that these cogsmen were individually far less formidable than Grayson had been. Their attacks were rudimentary, wild swings of brass-lined fists that were none-the-less powerful enough to be a threat.

  Alton kept on the move, his mind engaged with the tactics of the situation, joining a defender here, moving a man to a different window t here, chess moves made only seconds before they needed to be.

  The Brigadier thrust his sabre into the chest cavity of one of the cogsmen. "I keep stabbing but they keep coming!"

  It did not falter, reaching for the older man until Bartleby broke its wrist with a swing of his walking stick.

  "They've no hearts or organs, just cogs and flanges," he said.

  Constable Fuller's truncheon bounced ineffectually off of the skull of the invader at his window. "Mr. Wainwright, how did you stop Grayson?"

  "I was angry." James was fighting defensively, bringing his spanner to bear against his attacker, slapping each of its clumsy swings aside.

  "We don't need to stop them, just slow them down," Bartleby said.

  "For how long?"

  "Until the Home Office dispatches military assistance from London," the Brigadier said. "Lucian has wired the Viscount for assistance."

  "We're hours from London," Alton said.

  "I can't keep this up for hours," Fuller said.

  "Strike to disable," Alton lunged past the constable to thrust the brass head of his walking stick against a cogsman's elbow with a crack. The lower half of the invader's arm hung loose from its side.

  "The joints are structural weak points," James confirmed. "Elbows. Wrists. Knees."

  "If they cannot effectively attack they'll need to regroup for repairs," Alton said. That would buy him the time he needed to come up with another plan. Truthfully, though, things were grim. There was little chance they could keep them at bay until help arrived.

  Despite his misgivings, the defenders seemed inspired by his words. They fought with renewed vigour, striking at the joints of their brass-lined foes. The cogsmen made no attempts to defend themselves, and it wasn't long before few were capable of attacking effectively.

  "We've done it!" the Brigadier said. A general cheer rose from the beleaguered defenders.

  Seemingly as one, the cogsmen backed away from the manor walls, inc
apacitated limbs dangling.

  "Get ready for the second act," Bartleby said grimly.

  The Brigadier turned towards him. "Second act?"

  Outside, all three dozen cogsmen stood together, lined up and facing the house. Their mouths opened in unison, and they spoke with one voice.

  "FIIIIIIIIIIISKE!"

  "Oh dear," Bartleby said. That couldn't be good.

  ***

  Upstairs Aldora slowly opened the doors to the balcony. The cogsmen screamed her name again, a long, hate-filled, drawn-out sound. She hadn't recognised it the first time, when it had spoken with her brother's voice, but as a chorus she knew instantly who their true foe was.

  "Aldora--"

  "He means me, father."

  Her father looked at her quickly. "You know who's behind this?"

  "Sarsosa." She stepped out onto the balcony.

  ***

  "Who?" the Brigadier asked.

  "Jago Sarsosa," Bartleby looked in the direction of the Fiske bedroom. "Aldora travelled to the jungles of Mexico to find a missing expedition. Sarsosa was the man who had taken them."

  "The man who wanted to use that predictive Babbage engine to perpetuate a state of eternal war," James said.

  "The man who killed my father." Penny had crept up from the cellar, a determined look on her face. Xin Yan watched from the corner.

  "Penny--" Bartleby started towards the girl.

  "But it can't be. He's dead. Aldora killed him. She told me."

  "FIIIIIIIIIIIISKE!"

  "He sounds in remarkable health for a dead man," the Brigadier said.

  ***

  "Sarsosa." The word left Aldora's mouth a whisper, but the cogsmen on the lawn below turned their heads towards her in unison.

  "Fiske. So nice to see you again. So glad I could help your brother make an appearance on this, the day of your nuptials."

  "Didn't I kill you?"

  "It takes more than a woman's treachery to derail my destiny, Fiske."

  "What is it you want, monster?" Lucian glared down at the dead faces below the balcony.

  "From you?" the cogsmen chuckled. "Nothing. I have already taken what I needed from your facilities and your people."

  "Then go and leave us be."

  "Ah, but your daughter and I have unfinished business. Surrender yourself to me, Fiske, and I will let the rest go unharmed."

  Aldora smirked. "Even if I believed for one moment that you would hold to such a promise--"

  "I am still man enough to honour my word, Fiske. The superior man need not rely on treachery."

  "And what do you call attending my wedding in the guise of my brother?"

  The cogsmen grinned. All of them. "A simple jest, that's all."

  "Even if I believed your word, I do think it wiser to remain here, within the manor, and wait for reinforcements from London."

  "So smug. So sure," Sarsosa mocked. "Tell me, Fiske, what makes you think they received your message?"

  "They responded in kind--"

  "And tell me, Fiske, if I can meld flesh and brass, what makes you think I cannot intercept wireless telegraphy?"

  Aldora looked to her father. "Can he?"

  ***

  "It's possible." James drummed his fingers along the wall as he considered the Brigadier's question. "He would receive the signal, surely, given his wireless control of these machine-men. He could certainly respond."

  "Could he have blocked the signal from reaching the relay to London?" Alton asked.

  "This isn't my area of expertise, but I can see a few ways it might be done."

  Alton folded his arms.

  "What if he's lying?" Constable Fuller asked.

  "If it was a bluff his counter wouldn't be to wait us out," Alton said.

  ***

  "Take your time," the cogsmen said. "My army is tireless. Ageless. It does not hunger, and is eternally patient -- as am I, Fiske. We will repair, I will make another dozen from the townsfolk I have taken, and we will knock on your doors once more. Surrender and the others may go. If I have to come in and collect you... well. I simply cannot vouch for their safety."

  Aldora hesitated.

  "You cannot go to him," Lucian said.

  "I can beat him again."

  "You cannot say that for sure."

  "I'm a Fiske, father. As you are so fond of reminding me."

  "So was Grayson."

  Aldora flinched, ever so slightly.

  "Luck doesn't hold forever, dear," he said. "And what sort of man would I be if I let you expose yourself to danger while I crept away?"

  "A sensible one?"

  Alton spoke from the doorway. "He's right, Aldora."

  "Don't you start."

  "How do you suppose this would play out? You agree, and the Constable and Brigadier stumble all over themselves to protect this delicate flower of Ladyhood from the Spaniard and his machines."

  "Alton--"

  "And then I'd be honour-bound as your fiancée to back them up and you well know I cannot babysit and save the day at the same time."

  "You're making entirely too much sense. I think I prefer you drunk."

  Alton laughed. "No, please, pet, listen."

  "'Pet?'"

  "I know your instinct is to let yourself be taken and try and come up with some solution on the fly, but I need more time than that."

  "Time for what?"

  "Time to find Sarsosa wireless broadcast location, so we can shut it down and neutralise his cogsmen."

  Aldora shook her head. "I can handle it."

  "No, you can't."

  She glowered. "I've handled worse before."

  "You were better before."

  Aldora rounded on her fiancée, sudden anger in her eyes. "What?"

  Lucian put a gentle hand on his daughter's shoulder. "Dear, he's right."

  "What do you mean?"

  "I mean that you've lost a part of yourself," Bartleby said. "Some quintessential fragment, left behind in Mexico or Istanbul."

  "You have no right -- you don't know what I've gone through!"

  Alton spoke gently. "No, I don't. I can't. I can only draw from what I know of myself. My last tour in the Royal Navy ended in the expedition to Benin. I was not prepared for it, for real war, for being ordered into an amphibious assault. I was not prepared to kill with my... to kill. I was not prepared for the looting and burning that followed, not prepared to watch the men and officers I had respected and served along turning into vengeful savages."

  Aldora watched her fiancée silently.

  "I pulled a few strings and entered semi-retirement, but I left a part of myself behind. My innocence? My faith in my government and my navy? I felt betrayed. I had given myself over to the illusion of what the Royal Navy, of what the Empire presents itself as, and it let me down."

  Aldora dropped her eyes. "Alton."

  "I don't know what exactly happened in Istanbul, dear. I respect your privacy on the matter, but I see the pain in your eyes and it's a hollowness I know all too well."

  He put a hand under her chin, lifting her gaze to his. "You will recover. You will heal. You will recapture that spark that's fizzled, but it won't be quick. And until you do, until that sparks burns oh so brilliantly within you, you won't be that unstoppable Aldora Fiske that single-handedly defeated Jago Sarsosa and saved us from his mad vision. Until then, you cannot do this on your own."

  His voice broke, and though she knew it was calculated she so wanted to believe in his emotion. "Until then, please, let me help you. Let me make you great again."

  She tore away from him, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. "Oh, Alton... fine. Yes. Make your plan. I'll follow it."

  He straightened up. "Join us downstairs. You've a role to play in the final act."

  Lucian Fiske watched his daughter's fiancée depart. "You've chosen well."

  "I know," Aldora said. "He makes it easy to forget sometimes, but... I know."

  ***

  Once Aldora and Lucian had joined
the defenders, the group reconvened in the dining room, save for Charles and the other servants, who kept watch on the now-silent cogsmen.

  "We should be isolated enough that they can't hear us," James said.

  "Excellent," Bartleby said. "All right. We cannot count on rescue from London, and if we wait too long Sarsosa will have bolstered his forces beyond our ability to withstand."

  "So what would you have us do?" the Brigadier asked.

  "Firstly, James and Mr. Fiske are going to cross the village to the wireless relay tower and disable it. That should disable the cogsmen."

  "I'm uncomfortable with placing my father in danger."

  Alton shook his head. "This is the safest course of action, Aldora. And I don't think James is knowledgeable enough about wireless telegraphy to do it on his own."

  James nodded. "It will be an honour to work with you, Mr. Fiske."

  "While they disable the relay, Aldora will seek out Jago Sarsosa."

  "What, alone?" Constable Fuller asked.

  "The key to our success is that Aldora, James, and Mr. Fiske slip past the cogsmen undetected, and that means we send out as few people as possible. Aldora is the only one who knows Sarsosa in the slightest."

  "I don't like the idea of her confronting him alone," Fuller said.

  "She'll stand a better chance of success if she doesn't have to mollycoddle--"

  Aldora put a hand on Bartleby's arm. "He is welcome to accompany me."

  "Are you up to this task?" Lucian asked.

  "I'll have to be," Aldora said. "And if you and James disable the cogsmen, I can handle Sarsosa."

  "And the rest of us?" the Brigadier asked.

  "We're the decoy," Alton said. "This plan depends on Sarsosa remaining ignorant to our intentions until it's too late. The rest of us must remain visible and active. Walk the balconies. Peer out the windows."

  "He'll be looking for Aldora," Regina said.

  "True." Alton tapped his lip. "You look about the right size. Aldora, do you mind if Regina borrows from your wardrobe to perpetuate a masquerade?"

  "A capital idea," Aldora said through her smile. "Though I'm afraid you'll need to pad the bust a little."

 

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