Aetherium (Omnibus Edition)

by Joseph Robert Lewis

  “It was just fine. Thank you for your generosity.”

  Lady Sade scanned the train behind the Incan princess. “I see only one of your servants and only one of my soldiers. Sergeant, you’re shot.” It was not an exclamation, merely a statement of fact.

  “Yes, my lady.” Berkan stepped gingerly off the train and crossed the platform, clutching his arm to keep the weight off his shoulder. “A second engine crashed into ours shortly after we found Lady Qhora. Two men and a woman attacked us. They killed my men, and one of the Lady’s men, but I was able to subdue them, with some help.”

  “My bodyguard fought the woman, but she escaped,” Qhora said. “I think we heard her name. What was it, Enzo?”

  “Shifrah,” the hidalgo said.

  “Unusual name,” Lady Sade said. “Well, Sergeant, I believe you should find your barracks physician as quickly as you are able. You have my heartfelt thanks for your valiant service today and my condolences on your losses. I’ll be certain to commend your performance to your commander when next I speak to him. Lady Qhora, you may join me in my coach. Your man may follow with my footman.”

  Everyone bowed their heads and took the lady’s directions without comment. Qhora caught the tired but thoughtful look in Lorenzo’s eyes as he trudged past in silence with one of the caged cubs. Why won’t he look at me? He used to love looking at me.

  She climbed into the coach and settled on the narrow velvet seat across from the governor of Arafez. The driver called out, “Yip yip!” and the huge spotted beast lowed in reply. A heavy hoof-step thundered through the floor boards as the coach jerked into motion. The vehicle shook and bounced as it rolled up and down the cobbled streets and only a sliver of light penetrated the velvet curtains covering the windows. Qhora sniffed and her eyes watered at the alcoholic sting of something unnaturally flowery in the air.

  Dear gods, is that meant to be perfume?

  “So, Lady Qhora, I understand you are a prominent figure in the court of Emperor Manco in the New World. I should very much like to visit your country some day.”

  Qhora raised an eyebrow. “I would not advise it, Lady Sade. Most people from the east succumb to the Golden Death shortly after they visit our shores. My escort, Lorenzo, was one of the few men who survived it.”

  “The Golden Death?” Sade asked. “It sounds more decadent than deadly.”

  Aha! A bit of intelligent conversation should go far with this woman. Qhora smiled and said, “The Espani gave it that name. They said it was a curse from their god for trying to steal our gold. In truth, the disease turns the flesh red as the boils form and then burst. Blood runs from the eyes and ears. And shortly before death, green leaves and vines erupt from the skin and blood-red flowers begin to bloom. Perhaps it should be called the Red Death.”

  Sade blanched. “How fortunate that this plague does not affect your own people.”

  Qhora shook her head. “It did affect my ancestors long ago, but we cultivated an immunity to it over time. Our sages keep a pure strain of the original disease for ceremonial purposes in a family of small monkeys cloistered in a temple outside Cusco.” Qhora continued smiling. Perfect. Our scientific advances in medicine should certainly impress her.

  “Fascinating.” Sade turned her attention to the narrow glimpses of the outside world through the waving velvet curtains. “I have heard that your escort is a well-known diestro. Don Lorenzo Quesada, yes? Was your other companion also an Espani fencing master?”

  “No, he was an Aztec warrior. A knight of the Jaguar Order.” Qhora glanced down at her hands folded in her lap and began picking at the lace frills at her wrists.

  Was that really what he wanted? To be burned and abandoned on a dusty plain, unmarked and unremembered? We should have discussed such things beforehand. I wonder if I should discuss them with Enzo soon. Just in case.

  “Lady Sade, I believe that my life is in danger. I have been attacked three times since arriving in Marrakesh. If not for my companions, I would surely be dead at this moment. Enzo tells me that some of your people…” Careful! I can’t say that she rules over an impoverished mob at the brink of chaos. “…may not wish me to be here, in your country.”

  “Ordinarily, I would call that utter nonsense. The people of Arafez, and indeed all of Marrakesh, have nothing but respect and admiration for our cousins across the sea.” Lady Sade gestured vaguely at the veiled window. “We adore the mighty creatures brought back from the New World. For instance, we have several dozen megatheras here in Arafez to power our mills. They’re so much larger and stronger than our native sivatheras. And the young men enjoy riding your nankas. They hold races just outside the city throughout the summer.”

  “Nankas?” Qhora asked. “You mean hatun-ankas?” Not even Manco would sell a great eagle to an easterner, or give one as a gift. Only a thief could have brought them back here, and only as eggs or hatchlings. They’re all thieves in this land. “I should very much like to see your races one day. In my country, they are ridden only for war or protection, as befits their noble rank among all beasts and their savage nature as killers.”

  “Perhaps we have tamed them,” Sade said. “After all, Marrakesh is a tame land. We have shaped the earth and water to our will. Hills and rivers have become foundations and canals. We have mastered the land, but not ourselves, I’m afraid.”

  “Oh?” Qhora leaned forward.

  “Well, my dear, for many years our queens have bought peace from the neighboring kingdoms with our machines, but our enemies no longer fear our science. They are building railways in Persia and sailing steamships across the Middle Sea. Soon the skies will be filled with Songhai airships as well. And when we have nothing left to sell, there will no longer be any reason for our enemies to leave us in peace. When they know all our secrets, we will be worthless to them.”

  “You fear an invasion?”

  “Of course. Marrakesh sits between mountains rich in ore and oceans rich in food. We control the shipping lanes through the Strait. But our ancient allies are weak. España, Italia, Numidia. They’re all shadows of what they once were. And we cannot trust anyone else to stand by us without pillaging our resources when our backs are turned. The Bafours and Kel Ahaggar harry our borders already. War is coming, my lady. A terrible war that will be fought with terrible machines.”

  Qhora shrugged. “I’m sorry to hear this. I’m rather tired of war, myself. As a child in Cusco, I saw countless civil wars, several of which threatened to destroy my city and my family. As I grew older, the wars moved north and east as the Empire spread across the continent, swallowing up the savage kingdoms on our borders. It was once called the Tawantin Suyu Empire, for its four great nations. Now it is the Jisquntin Suyu Empire.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Nine nations,” Qhora said with only a hint of smile. “But then, three years ago, the Espani invasion began.”

  “Yes, I’ve read of it. But your Empire triumphed, and quickly at that,” Sade said, her gaze fixed on a sliver of light between the waving curtains. “I suppose the Golden Death defeated your enemies for you.”

  “Many of them, yes.” Qhora recalled the bloated and bleeding faces of the white soldiers, their skin bulging and oozing. “But there were still many battles. The Espani brought guns and armor on their ironclad ships, and they built little wooden castles by the sea. But their forces were slow and heavy and cautious. Our riders and hunters were swift and light and fearless. You don’t need swords or cannons to kill a man. A sharp thorn and a drop of venom will do just as well. The hatun-ankas are faster than any horse, and many times deadlier. And the Espani had nothing but little dogs to face the kirumichi.”

  “Kiru…?” Lady Sade glanced at her, a quizzical look in her raised eyebrow.

  “Kirumichi. The Espani call them saber-toothed cats. The same as the cubs we brought for your queen. Have you ever seen an adult, my lady?”

  Sade shook her head.

  Qhora beamed. “Then I look forward to introducing you t
o Atoq, my hunter. He is following us along the train tracks and should be here later this evening.”

  Sade froze for an almost imperceptible moment, and then shifted her whole body to face the princess squarely and she leaned forward as she said, “You brought a man-eating war-cat to Marrakesh? Through Tingis?”

  “Yes.” Qhora’s smiled faded. She’s afraid. “I assure you, he’s perfectly safe and obeys my every command. He would only kill to protect me, as he did today when the Shifrah woman attacked us.”

  “I see.” Lady Sade continued to scrutinize her companion for several long moments, her forehead slightly creased and eyes slightly squinted and mouth slightly frowning. But then she blinked and the dark cloud over her vanished. “Lady Qhora, you clearly have a wealth of knowledge about the world. Few women of power have travelled as far and seen as much as you. Your wisdom and experience will no doubt impress Her Highness in Orossa. You must be looking forward to meeting her when you deliver your gifts from Prince Valero.”

  “I am.” Qhora relaxed at the sudden change in the older lady’s demeanor. What just happened? Did she decide to befriend me, or not? Perhaps I can test her. “Although, I must confess, I had heard stirring descriptions of the wealth and power of her country, but thus far have not seen the same country that was described to me. The explosion at the train station, the bandits on the highway. You understand, of course.”

  “Of course.” Lady Sade nodded knowingly. “These are difficult times, but all transitions are difficult. You must tear down the old to make room for the new. Everything in Marrakesh is changing, and for some people it is changing too rapidly. The cities, the factories, the jobs. It can be a bit overwhelming.” She smiled. “I know just the thing. I will invite several of my friends to supper with us tonight and we will show you the real Marrakesh, the Marrakesh of the future. And then tomorrow I will escort you myself to Orossa to introduce you to Her Highness. You will arrive refreshed as well as enlightened.”

  Qhora smiled in return, but not too brightly. Almost too good to be true. She wants to give me everything I want, everything I might have asked for. Have I found a friend or just another sort of thief, another liar, another viper? Well, if so, then at least this viper doesn’t know that my fangs are sharper than hers. Qhora said, “I can’t thank you enough, my lady. You are as thoughtful as you are generous.”

  A few minutes later, the coach rumbled to a halt and the driver opened the door to reveal a paved courtyard bordered by thousands of flowers blooming in freshly mulched beds and on blindingly whitewashed trellises. The house itself walled the courtyard on three sides and rose three stories above the street, three stories of pale granite and gleaming windows crowned with arched red roof tiles. Lady Sade led the way into the house and Qhora followed through room after room of marble tiled floors and lush Persian carpets, slender Hellan columns and dark hardwood stairs, enormous stone and iron fireplaces from España, stained glass doors and paper-thin screens, and more types of chairs and tables than she could name. The governor of Arafez deposited her guest in small bedroom on the second floor, promised to send refreshments and her hidalgo as soon as he arrived, and left her to stare at the plush upholstery surrounding her.

  Qhora sat down on the edge of the bed, noting the five or six layers of blankets, each of a different color and cloth. Her body sank down into the bedding and she lay back and closed her eyes. Well, perhaps some of these people are wealthy after all.

  Chapter 18

  Black slime and green moss covered the bottom half of the high stone walls of the Zemmour Canal. A golden sun hung high in the sky, bleaching the heavens into pastel blues and yellows. And while there was no spray from the ferry’s huge paddle wheel, the smells of salt and dead fish and wet birds were everywhere, sometimes faint but often with burning acuity. Only a handful of the other passengers had left the main cabin to walk about outside between the warm spring sun and the cold sea breeze, including quite a few elderly couples slowly pacing the length of the deck, their bare feet slapping softly on the warm metal deck plates. Syfax leaned forward on the rail and watched the foamy waves sliding past the steamer’s hull.

  “So I’ve been wondering,” Syfax said. “Should I snap your wrist and arrest you now, and sit on you until we get to Nahiz, or should I just stand here and act scared of your little toy until we arrive? I’m not a big fan of babysitting.”

  “Of course not.” Chaou stared out across the grassy fields beyond the canal walls. “You’ll do your duty, which leaves me to decide what to do with you now. I don’t want to kill you, major. I hope you believe that. I extended my offer to you more out of hope than anything else. Usually we approach people much more gently and carefully, developing a rapport over time. You understand. More diplomatically. But this has all been a complete fiasco. It’s all the Espani’s fault, really.”

  Syfax tried to focus on anything other than the ambassador’s voice. Over the past hour, he had heard the same self-pitying whining and excuses again and again. Hamuy, politics, the queen, the Espani, the weather, the harvest, wages, strikes. At first he had hoped to coax out a few names or dates or plans, something specific so he could round up a few more of her friends, but so far she had been very careful in choosing her words and now Syfax was ready to dump her on someone else. As he listened to the endless shushing of the water against the hull and the low huffing of the steamer’s engine, a distant whine caught his ear. He looked up to the west and saw a small dark shape approaching high above them. “Here comes the cavalry,” he said.

  “Probably not. And the next time I need an airship captured I will have to send more capable persons.” Chaou peered up, her hand still resting lightly on the major’s. “I’m sure the maneuver would be quite spectacular if attempted, but no airship could ever hope to land on a moving boat. At most, they could try to lower someone down with a rope, or lift you away with one, but that would mean flying very low and very close to this large pointy boat and all these trees for several minutes. No, I don’t think your comrades will risk that.”

  Syfax glanced once at the small woman and then focused on the airship. What is Kenan up to? The airship continued to grow in size and detail, and attracted the excited waves and shouts of several children standing near the stern of the ferry, but as the minutes passed the Halcyon made no sign of descending or even angling toward the ship. It passed overhead half a mile to the north and proceeded east, the drone of its propellers fading as it cruised over a low ridge on its way to…where? Are they going to Nahiz or straight on to Khemisset?

  “You see?” Chaou leaned against the rail, a gentle smile curling the corners of her mouth. “They must be going ahead to Nahiz to intercept us. It’s a small town, with no real means for us to blend into a crowd, so to speak. Especially if they’re standing on the pier, watching us disembark.”

  “Yeah, well, unless you plan to hijack the ferry, it looks like your little adventure’s almost over, lady.” Syfax studied the older woman, wondering if she might actually try to hijack the ferry. The longer he looked at the grim-faced ambassador, the less ridiculous it sounded.

  Chaou gestured to the people in the cabin. “And inconvenience all these hard-working women and men? Families and business travelers? I wouldn’t dream of it. No, the ferry will reach Nahiz on schedule. I shall simply have to arrange some other means of transportation before we arrive, that’s all.”

  “Sure you will.”

  “I’ll just have to make do with whatever is at hand.” Chaou turned slightly to study the little crane mechanism holding the ferry’s lifeboat just a few yards away.

  Now she’s really getting squirrelly. Time to wrap this up. Syfax whipped his hand free of her grip and lunged at the bulge of his revolver in the ambassador’s coat pocket. His fingers fumbled against the hard edges of the grip, and then a brilliant spidery arc of light struck his arm. He pulled back, whipping his stunned hand to beat the feeling back into it.

  “I’m running out of patience, major!” The li
ttle woman’s eyes flashed with rage, her lips trembled as she extended the two fingers tipped in copper. “You’re not special, you’re not clever, and you’re not going to trick me or even overpower me.”

  Syfax beat his tingling hand against the metal rail and the feeling began to return. “Seriously, lady? I have bowel movements scarier than you. You really think you’ll make it past the marshals, and the police, and the Royal Guards? Oh, don’t look so surprised. I’ve heard all of your speeches before, from other killers and delusional psychopaths. You’re not the first person who wanted to kill the queen.”

  Chaou blinked and swallowed.

  “All that blather about foreign people and money and machines? You think I haven’t heard that before?” Syfax grimaced. “You’ll be caught, and probably killed. By now, half the country knows you’re missing and half of them probably suspect you caused the mess in Tingis. Dozens dead. Train blown to hell. Airship blown to hell. People don’t like being scared, you know. They’ll crawl through sewers to rip your head off just so they can all sleep better at night, knowing they got their precious justice. You’re living on borrowed time, ambassador. And your little toy can’t hurt what you can’t touch.” He rolled his hand into a heavy fist and smashed it into Chaou’s forearm, grabbed her wrist, and twisted her arm up behind her back nearly to her neck. She gasped and squealed.

  Syfax tightened his grip and felt the ambassador weakening, losing her balance. When Chaou’s legs buckled, both of them stumbled forward and Syfax bumped Chaou’s hand against the railing. Instantly, a dozen sharp wails filled the air and Syfax shoved the ambassador away to scan for the source of the cries. It was the elderly couples. All of the little old men and women, the barefoot couples, who had been walking nearby had fallen to the deck, shuddering and wailing, their limbs flopping and twitching.

  And then it was over and dozens of horrified and baffled onlookers were bending over the shaken couples, babbling and pointing, passing bottles of water and blankets among them.