Aetherium (Omnibus Edition)

by Joseph Robert Lewis

  A woman spoke in his ear. “I would love to believe that you followed me all this way to accept my generous offer.”

  Syfax felt something small and sharp dig into his back. Too small for a gun. A knife? Or something electrical?

  “But somehow, I doubt that’s why you’re here.” Chaou tugged on his sleeve. “Let’s sit down over there, out of the way, hm?”

  Syfax scanned the indicated corner for an asset, an ally, a weapon, or an escape route, but the only people nearby were two old men reading books and tugging at their beards. The major grinned. Hell, it’s only a knife. I can grab the knife and snap her wrist before she can scratch my coat. So let’s see what the old bat has to say.

  Dragging his feet, Syfax came to the end of the row and sat down by the window. Outside and far below, the little waves played and rolled between the piers, slapping lightly against the pilings with a thousand tiny bits of trash bobbing around them.

  Chaou sat beside him. “You seem to have recovered rather quickly from our little encounter earlier. God must like you.”

  Syfax pursed his lips and looked at the smaller woman sitting beside her. Chaou had wrapped a black cloak around her shoulders and only her golden cuffs peeked out from beneath it. “I think God just likes kicking me around.”

  “You think so?” Chaou nodded. “And who decides what God likes? Priests, I suppose. Or sometimes queens, or generals, hm? They’re all just people, no wiser than anyone else.”

  “Seriously? A sermon?” Syfax turned his attention back to the water where the rainbow rings of oil mingled with the white islands of foam. “I haven’t had a criminal preach at me in over a year. You killers are very spiritual folks.”

  Chaou shifted in her seat. “I wasn’t trying to preach. And I’ll thank you not to refer to me as a criminal or a murderer. Yes, yes, I’ve broken laws and people have died.” She sighed. “But now is not the time to dwell on logistics or administrative details. I have larger concerns. And you, I imagine, have one very small concern at this moment.”

  Syfax felt the knife point gently nudge his ribs. Around him, the empty seats were quickly filling and the general murmur of excited children, tired parents, and impatient businesswomen continued to grow. “So tell me about these larger concerns of yours. You said something before about our foreign policy?”

  “Don’t patronize me, major. I know you’re not alone here.” The ambassador gave him a tired look. “I’m sure you’d like nothing better than to draw me out into some dry, academic debate while your associates discover that you are missing and storm the ship to save you for the second time today. But I’ve sent two of my less lovely employees to ensure our privacy. I’m afraid your friends won’t be interrupting us again.”

  “Good.” Syfax matched her look and tone of boredom and annoyance. “My kid wouldn’t let it go to his head, but I’m sure the pilot girl would be a real pain in the ass. That much success in one day, nah, I don’t think so.”

  “I’m glad we agree.”

  Syfax felt the jab in his side disappear, and in that instant he grabbed Chaou’s wrist and yanked her arm free of the black cloak. The major saw the sleeve of the gold coat and a hand the color of dark sand, and snaking across the lined palm he saw two veins of copper that hid almost perfectly in the creases of the ambassador’s skin. “What the hell is that?”

  Chaou’s hand snapped down and pressed tightly against the marshal’s fingers. Syfax stiffened as the burst of electric current buzzed through his flesh. His head snapped back and his skull cracked against the window frame just before the world faded into a bright white haze.

  Syfax blinked, trying to refocus his eyes. The world was dim and filled with a dull whisper of many people talking and moving. He remembered the ferry.

  Chaou!

  A hand clamped down on his own, pressing it onto the armrest. “Good evening, major, I’m glad you could rejoin us.”

  “How long was I out?”

  “About six hours.”

  Syfax sat up sharply, squinting at the shadowy figures around him, fighting with his weary eyes to understand what the bright dots and lines were in the distance. Chaou laughed and Syfax heard the soft hiss of something sliding, and suddenly the world was quite bright again. The ambassador had raised the window shade and Syfax stared out at the blue water sparkling beneath the midday sun.

  “Did I say six hours? I can be so careless about the time. You have my heartfelt apologies. I’m afraid you’ve only been unconscious for a few moments.” She patted Syfax’s hand. “Not to worry, you didn’t miss very much. After I relieved you of your sidearm, the ferry captain made a brief announcement, and there was some banging around on deck, and then the ship started rumbling and vibrating a bit. But it’s all settled down now that we’re under way.”

  Under way? Syfax glared out the window at the little anchor buoys and crab pot markers slowly gliding past them, rocking as the wake of the ferry rolled up beneath them. The harbor was well behind them already and the open water of the Atlanteen rippled darkly out to the horizon. “Where are we going?”

  “The ferry is going up the Zemmour Canal to Nahiz.” Chaou smiled briefly. “I haven’t decided yet where you’re going. My associates would have wanted to throw you into the middle of the harbor, but they’re not here. I dislike killing, especially our own people. Obviously, using Hamuy was a poor decision on my part, from an ethical point of view. From a practical point of view, it seemed very reasonable to employ someone with his particular qualifications.” The woman sighed. “I pride myself on being an excellent judge of character and for knowing how to manage people. It’s necessary in diplomacy, naturally. But I must admit there is a certain class of people that I have some difficulty with. And Hamuy is of that class.”

  Syfax gently massaged his temples with his right hand, then looked down at his left wrist, still in the ambassador’s grasp. “What the hell did you do to me?”

  “Just a mild electric shock, nothing to worry about. Usually people just tense up when it happens, which is quite a convenient and understated way to respond to physical pain, especially in a public forum such as this. But the device is malfunctioning, thanks to your assault on my person this morning. You gave me quite a worry when you jerked about like that, knocking your head on the wall. You very nearly made a scene.”

  “Well, we wouldn’t want that.” Syfax straightened up and studied the crowded deck, but after a moment he gave up hunting for the ambassador’s confederates. She must have more muscle somewhere. His head throbbed, mostly behind his right eye. “I take it you still want me to work for you.”

  “Oh, don’t make it sound so formal and dry. It’s more than a business arrangement or career advancement.” Chaou shook her head. “No, it’s much more than that. It’s an opportunity to serve your country in a more noble capacity, to right wrongs on a national scale, in ways that speak directly to the preservation of our way of life.”

  “Why do you people always talk in riddles about the evils in society, and your epic solutions that only you can make happen?” Syfax turned his attention to the window and a seagull bobbing on the waves. “I cornered a bomber a few years ago. Pastoralist. He hated machines because they made people lazy. But he couldn’t just come out and say that. We spent three hours in the hot afternoon sun pointing guns at each other and negotiating for hostages, all while listening to him babble on and on about the nobility of labor, the divine calling to sweat and bleed, the purity of living at the edge of survival. Blah blah blah.”

  “What happened to him?”

  “I shot him.”

  “How terrible for you. For everyone.”

  “You’re telling me. I don’t like guns. Never did,” Syfax said. “Shooting people doesn’t sit right with me. There’s something weak about it. And I’m not a fan of other people shooting people either. I’m more of a knife man. Any idiot can pull a trigger. But it takes guts to slice a human being open right in front of you.”

  Chaou winced. �
��Yes, well, to return to my original point, your bomber was trying to stop progress, and he was as effective as any person standing in front of a locomotive. I have no such interest in hindering or harming our people. Quite the opposite. I intend to see Marrakesh elevated to much greater heights of power in every sphere of human endeavor.”

  Syfax scanned the shifting wavelets, watching for the next yacht, the next fishing boat, the next opportunity to catch someone’s eye and…and what? He frowned and tried to focus on finding Chaou’s backup in the crowd, but there were too many candidates. People sitting quietly by themselves, people chatting, people glancing nervously around, and at least four people who seemed to be staring directly at him at any given time, though two were sleepy-eyed mothers cradling babies in their arms.

  “So why did you join the service, major? Was your father in law enforcement? Or were you the victim of some unfortunate crime and vowed to never let such a thing happen again?” Chaou eased her grip on Syfax’s wrist for a brief moment to pat his hand gently, then gripped it again. “You’d be surprised how many people answer one of those two things.”

  “Actually, I started in the army, hoping to see some real action. But after a few years, that clearly wasn’t going to happen since we never seem to actually go to war with anyone. So I transferred into Security Section Two.” Syfax kept an even tone as he mentally flipped through the negotiator’s handbook. Keep her talking. Build a rapport. “The pay is good and the work is interesting. Sometimes more than others.”

  “And that’s important to you? Being interested?”

  “I guess so,” Syfax said. “Killing bad guys is good for the soul, but it helps to keep your head in the game too. Otherwise, after a while, you start to lose focus on what’s important.”

  “You’re wrong.” Chaou stared out the window past him. “I feel as passionate about my ideals as I did forty years ago. If anything, the time has only served to sharpen my resolve.”

  Syfax glanced down at the ambassador’s wired fingers and said, “I can see that. So what’s the story with your hand? Did you get tired of not having a bunch of wires under your skin? I can see how that might bug you.”

  “Hm. You’ve been quite patient and polite about bringing it up, major.” Chaou smiled briefly. “But I’m not going to tell you anything very useful. Suffice it to say, my organization has many enterprises, including medical and scientific research. The device implanted in my arm, well, you’ve felt its effects. There’s nothing more to say about it.”

  Syfax’s basic training in electricity had not held his attention as well as weapons, tactics, and criminal psychology, but he managed to dredge up a few facts. “I suppose it’s insulated to protect you from being electrocuted all the time?”

  “Yes, of course,” she said. “No, the breakthrough being tested was something else entirely. Something new, at the time.”

  “Yeah, sure.” What would someone want to test something inside a person’s body? “How long have you had it?”

  “Several years. It’s not uncomfortable, actually. But my associate has moved on to bigger and better things since then, and this little device would look like a child’s toy compared to her latest projects.”

  “Such as?”

  Chaou sighed. “I suppose it would be hoping too much to expect you to stop trying to interrogate me. It is your duty, of course. I respect that, more than you know. You provide a vital service for our people, protecting their lives. I can’t tell you how much I regret everything that happened last night. I had a plan, of course. A very good plan.”

  “Right.” Syfax chuckled. They always have a plan. “So what went wrong?”

  “My informants were misinformed. Something arrived in Tingis that was not supposed to be there. The plan fell apart and I did not have a contingency. I told Hamuy to make certain no one left Tingis after I departed in the airship. I never thought he would destroy whole engines or airships, or kill all of those innocent travelers.” Chaou swallowed. “The whole night was a dreadful fiasco and I take full responsibility for it. But good people died and now I must continue on or else those deaths are meaningless.”

  “Continue on to do what?”

  Chaou grimaced and shook her head.

  So, she’s a patriotic lunatic, she’s recruiting, and she’s not a big fan of the queen. Delusions of grandeur and dreams of regicide. Always nice when they stick to the classics. Syfax glanced out the window to see the ferry was just entering the mouth of the Zemmour Canal and bearing east to Nahiz. Well, that’s enough of this crap. Time to go.

  Chapter 13

  Kenan yelled over the droning propellers, “We’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  Taziri waved and watched him and Ghanima climb back down the spiral stairs inside the lighthouse, thumping on wrought iron steps that rang and clanged with every footfall.

  “Now where are they going?” Evander asked. “We finally find them and they just run off again. We’re never going to get to Orossa at this rate.”

  “They’re just going to get the major,” Taziri said. “It won’t kill you to wait a few more minutes. When they get back, I’m sure they’ll take Hamuy and we’ll be free to go. We’ll tell them about the doctor in Arafez and let them deal with it. All right?”

  “Fine.”

  Two minutes later, Taziri heard the wrought iron stairs rattling again and the two young officers leapt up onto the landing. Kenan waved sharply, gesturing for them to come closer to the lighthouse. Evander pointed at the marshal and said, “What’s he want now?”

  “I think they need a ride. Right now.” Taziri steered the Halcyon closer to the tower and then stepped back to the open hatch and kicked the rolled rope ladder over the threshold. “Climb up!” she yelled into the wind. As Ghanima began scrambling up the wriggling ladder, Taziri heard a new pounding and rattling on the spiral stairs behind the marshal. “Kenan! Climb up with her! I can carry you both away on the ladder!”

  But the corporal remained on the landing, glancing back over his shoulder at the stairs. As Taziri pulled Ghanima up over the lip of the hatch, Kenan stepped out onto the ladder and yelled, “Go!”

  A man’s head appeared at the top of the stairs. He squinted into the sunlight and shouted, “Hey, they’re taking off!”

  “Taziri! Go-go-go!” Kenan kicked away from the railing and the rope ladder swung out from the lighthouse as two men dashed out onto the landing. One pulled a short knife from his sleeve while the other drew a gun. “Taziri! Go!”

  She dashed to the cockpit to find that Ghanima was already in the pilot’s seat and wrestling with the controls. The young aviator threw a frown over her shoulder. “What is this? It’s all different from the Crake.”

  “Move!” Taziri slid into the seat and shoved the throttle forward as the propellers flipped over to thrust down and away from the lighthouse tower. She peered down through the window by her feet to get a glimpse of the corporal, but the ladder swung out of view. “Ghanima, take over. Just hold the flight stick steady and get us into open air. Don’t touch anything else.”

  The young pilot took back the seat with an anxious nod. Taziri ran back to the open hatch, noting that the doctor was sitting in the far corner with both hands clutching the handrail by his shoulder. The Hellan’s boot rested on the still-soaking shoulder of the unconscious man on the floor.

  Looking down the ladder, Taziri saw they were still perilously close to the tower as the Halcyon’s engine battled with a light breeze coming in off the sea. The brute with the gun leaned far over the railing trying to grab Kenan’s legs while his friend slashed at the empty air, trying to skewer the dangling marshal.

  “Hold on,” said Ghanima. “I’m going to try something.” Halcyon juddered and shook, throwing Taziri to her knees and she grabbed a rail to stop herself from falling out the open hatch. The deck tilted suddenly as the airship began nosing up and Taziri saw the harbor master’s office falling away faster and faster. The rope ladder swung wide and Kenan swung with it
toward the great glass eye of the lighthouse lantern. He kicked one of the men on the landing as he crashed into the stone wall beside the lantern and the second man leapt up to grab Kenan’s feet. The marshal yelped and fell several feet before he wrapped both arms around the bottom rung. As the airship rose, the two men rose with it. Kenan shrieked as he was dragged up across the jagged roof tiles and the man hanging on his leg lost his grip and fell back to the landing. Taziri winced as she watched the marshal’s shoulder crash into the flag pole at the top of the roof, and then they were free in the open air.

  “Oh no, his arm. He can’t climb!” Taziri fumbled for the winch rope, yanking it free and hurling it down beside the ladder. For a moment, Kenan looked up and she saw how little was left in him. His eyes couldn’t quite focus and his mouth hung open, gasping for breath. As he reached for the winch cable, Taziri almost thought he would fall, but Kenan jammed the cable hook into his belt. She hit the winch switch and the marshal flew up into the hatch. He rolled into the cabin and Taziri slammed the hatch shut with the ladder still dangling outside. “Doctor!”

  Evander grunted and knelt at Kenan’s side with his black bag. Taziri got out of his way, hesitated, then went up to the cockpit. “Ghanima, let me take over. Help the doctor. And get the ladder up.”

  “Right.” The pilot moved aside and gestured at the switchboard. “You’re going to have to tell me what all this does sometime.”

  Taziri took the controls and glanced up at the mirror where she saw the doctor and Ghanima bent over Kenan. Ghanima held Kenan steady and Evander pulled on the soldier’s arm. Kenan gasped and groaned as his shoulder shifted and popped back where it belonged, and then he fell quiet as the doctor fabricated a sling out of bandages.