Gaia's Brood

by Nick Travers

  Chapter 40

  I am at a loss for words. The Priestess of Gaia has led us into the white painted chapel on the village green. In the center of the building stands the now familiar bot-bellied statue of Gaia, but I ignore that. What holds my attention is a life size mural covering the back wall of the building.

  The image of my white-haired clone is so totally unexpected it takes my breath away. The figure of Leanne, dressed in white, is treading over corpses of the dead. She has descended from an airship and around her stand children of all ages; they appear to be rising into the sky and sprouting wings. The inference is clear the child tributes live with Gaia in the sky.

  The riddle comes unbidden into my mind: At Gaia’s feet the doomed must meet, no more to rise again, at Gaia’s hands the children stand, to rise and rule the skies. The edges of the painting are decorated with ghostly monsters and fantastic creatures. This building is where we find our clue.

  For a while, I’m transfixed by the image of Leanne—she has never been outside a laboratory, so how could she possibly have made her way here to the village of the damned? Is there more than one White Woman? How many clones of me are there? No wonder the priestess mistook me for Gaia. I would probably make the same mistake.

  I turn to Scud and Izzy and mouth, “We need to search this place and find the hidden clue.” Somehow, we need to get the villagers and the priestess out of here.

  I need to buy some time to think. “This is a lovely painting.”

  The Priestess beams, she is obviously proud of the art work. “It is known as ‘The Descent if Gaia,’ it is very old. Sadly, bits of the wall keep crumbling away taking the painting with it. We restore it as best we can. One of our young artists restored the central figures a few years ago, but was taken by Gaia before she could finish the rest. Now we have no one who can do the work.” The Priestess is unremittingly morose.

  The mention of restoration gives me an idea. “I don’t remember being Gaia, but I must be. Perhaps, I have regenerated.” I have no idea what I might have regenerated from or what I might have regenerated into, but hopefully neither does the priestess. “I need to spend some time alone to commune with Gaia,” I say, pointing toward the statue.

  The priestess looks edgy, perhaps she does doubt my identity—now she has something to compare it with. Or maybe, she thinks I’m here to steal her offerings. Reluctantly, she leaves.

  Scud picks up a candle and examines the painting of Leanne—typical of him to do his own thing.

  “Okay, so let’s start with the riddle,” I say. At Gaia’s feet the doomed must meet—that must mean either the statue or the painting—so let’s check the statue.”

  Izzy and I get down on our hands and knees and crawl around the statue of Gaia, feeling for anything that might indicate a hidden space. I even try to dig into the packed earth of the floor with my fingertips. Nothing.

  “At Gaia’s hands the children stand, to rise and rule the skies,” Izzy says. “That has to be the painting.” We recheck the hands of the statue, just in case.

  Scud has the candle right up close to the mural. If he studies the face of Leanne any closer he will scorch the painting. “Nina, I don’t think—”

  “Not now, Scud. We’re onto something.”

  “But Nina—”

  Izzy points to the monsters near the flying angels. “Numbers—see how this beast curls round, but it’s all wrong—back to front, I think.”

  “Mirror writing,” Scud mutters, leaving Leanne and focusing on Izzy’s find. He’s right, the numbers are all back to front.

  I examine the corpses of the damned—there are numbers here too. “Copy them down before she comes back.”

  Izzy starts scribbling. “But which order are they in?”

  “Same order as the riddle,” Scud says. “Numbers by the feet first, numbers on the doomed, on the children, by her hands, and numbers in the skies last.” Which is a long speech for Scud.

  I scribble away with a pencil and a piece of paper too.

  “Quick,” Izzy hisses, “they’re coming back.”

  Scud returns to studying the figure of Leanne. “Nina, I’m pretty sure—“

  “Well, well, well, what do we have here? You appear to be trapped, Miss Swift.” The voice of lieutenant Borker is unmistakable.

  I turn to find him pointing a pistol at me. This is what the villagers were planning—nothing less than I expected.

  Jack McGraw pushes his way in front of Borker’s gun, to get to me first. “Nina Swift, I am arresting you, with the authority of New Frisco, for flying an airship without an air-worthiness license, resisting arrest, and striking an officer of the law—me.” He gestures with his own gun. “Raise your hands above your head where I can see them.”

  “Hi, Jack.”

  “And the rest,” Borker growls.

  “Also, on suspicion of murder, arson, manslaughter, and terrorism,” McGraw states in a flat voice. “And I am arresting your crew as accessories to these alleged crimes.”

  “No kidnapping or smuggling?” I ask innocently.

  “Not that I am aware of.”

  So Jack doesn’t know about Leanne—I store this piece of information away for later.

  “Do you wish to confess anything while you are under caution?” Jack is wearing his severe face. He looks handsome in his uniform.

  I lift my hands carefully, sure Borker would love any opportunity to shoot me down. The lieutenant is grinning like he’s genuinely pleased to have finally caught up with me. There are fewer constables with them than the size of their flotilla would suggest which is exactly what I hoped.

  “We have some repair work to complete,” Borker declares, “but I think you already know about that, don’t you Miss Swift.”

  Our night-time raid on their hidden airships was successful then. I catch Jack McGraw’s eye, he stares back impassively, until Borker turns his back on us, then he winks. The raid is the sort of tactical maneuver Jack would appreciate.

  “So for the moment,” Borker continues, “we will secure you here.” They seat us on wooden chairs, arranged in a row facing the statue of Gaia and the painting. They tie our hands behind our backs with ropes, and tie our feet to the chair legs. They shove the Priestess into a dark corner, she looks scandalized at the treatment of her god.

  Borker cannot resist gloating over his victory. “Thought you could get away with murder, thought the rules didn’t apply to you, eh? Thought you could wreak havoc across the world in your own little airship, didn’t you? Well I got News for you—we’re the law, we always catch the criminal.” Borker whips out his pistol again and strikes me across the left cheek.

  The blow splits the skin and a trickle of blood runs down my face. The blood drips slowly onto my jacket. I keep my teeth clenched so I don’t cry out at the pain. Even trussed up like a chicken, that is one victory I can deny Borker. The bruising numbness soon settles to a sting.

  “Oh, and the rest of your crew have deserted you,” Borker sneers, pressing the muzzle of the gun against my forehead. He pulls back the hammer. “Goodbye Nina Swift.”