Dragonfly Warrior

by Jay Noel

  Neva flashed Zen an expression of alarm in her eyes before returning her attention to Izel. “Can you describe any of the men? Or maybe any of the boys you saw?”

  Zen stepped forward to give Izel's aunt a pair of gold coins. The old lady bumped the girl again with her bony elbow. Izel hesitated for a moment until her aunt threw her a coin.

  “I drew them.” Izel brought her book up against her chest.

  Neva pointed to the book. “Drew them? There?”

  The old lady chimed in proudly, “Izel is a gifted artist.”

  “May I take a look at your drawings of the men?” Neva asked gently.

  Izel turned to her aunt and received a slight nod of reassurance before flipping through the leather portfolio and handing it to Neva. Zen studied the drawings over Neva's shoulder while she studied each page carefully. He was in awe at the girl's immaculate pencil drawings.

  The first sketch was of a locomobile identical to the one Enapay was now piloting, and the drawings of the smaller roadsters with the mounted machine guns were exactly as Zen imagined. The fifth page Neva came to was of the men. They were warriors, armed with the same auto guns Geller had sold to Cheng's raiders.

  “Gifted, yes?” the old lady said with a smile.

  Neva turned the page. The next drawing was of a line of boys being dragged into one of the passenger cars. Although the picture was done in pencil, Izel captured the faces of terror on each abducted child. Neva wiped a renegade tear running down her cheek and turned another page. She let out a gasp.

  “Are you okay?” Izel asked her.

  Zen sidled up to Neva to take a look at the drawing for himself. Izel had drawn a small boy with brown hair. The child wore a blank expression. Dressed in a light colored shirt and dark pants, his thin body seemed helpless against the stocky man standing next to him.

  The man looked like a bull. He was balding on top of his head, and his strong shoulders gave him a menacing appearance. Izel's pencil made him look almost dignified, his face wearing the look of arrogance. The sharp brows, narrow eyes, and half-grin gave the man's countenance the air of superiority.

  Surely the man was Geller, and the boy was Marcel, Neva's Machine Boy.

  “This boy here, he is my son.” Neva pointed to the drawing of Marcel. “Did you see him?”

  Izel nodded. “The man there kept your son at his side the whole time. They went into the orphanage and back out together. Then they boarded the middle car before the entire caravan left.”

  “In which direction did they go?” Zen asked.

  “They continued south, down this main highway. It's the only road to Azincaya,” replied the young girl.

  “Can I have this?” Neva asked Izel as she regained her composure. “Just this one drawing.”

  Izel didn't get permission from her aunt before replying, “Yes.”

  Neva carefully tore the page from the leather book and handed the portfolio back to Izel. She scrutinized the drawing one final time before folding and putting it in her pocket. “Thank you.”

  Zen gave the young woman one gold coin before leading Neva away towards the center of the market. “Only two days behind. We can make that up.” He stopped, wondering if Neva was listening. “Do not worry. We will catch them.”

  Neva seemed to be looking through Zen, her eyes and her mind were elsewhere. He recognized the look on her face, as it was the same expression she wore just before she defeated the raider during her duel. She was like a shark tasting a drop of blood in the water.

  “I'm going to kill that bastard for taking my son.”

  THE SHORT VOYAGE ACROSS THE Sea of Nihon was a welcomed respite from the long days and short nights Takeo Yoneda had endured since becoming Shogun. Although the steamship could easily transport a company of two hundred soldiers, Takeo brought only a skeleton crew of twenty with him on his trip to Koreya.

  The ship's engine slowed down, and the two smokestacks blew gray steam in rhythmic bursts until slowing to an occasional coughing. When Takeo looked at the wispy trail of exhaust in the air, he thought of Zen. He prayed his prince was alive and hadn't fallen prey to the crooks and thieves populating Agrios. That was not how Zen should die. Nihon's greatest warrior should perish on Nihon soil, not on some faraway foreign land.

  The ship carefully maneuvered to dock, and Takeo took a deep breath to prepare himself for this impromptu yet important mission. Since it fell upon Takeo's shoulders to make certain the entire Sun Nation could of withstand an Iberian invasion, this visit held special importance. The experiments secretly taking place on the Koreyan peninsula were central to their defense should they not be able to contain the Iberian advance.

  It was four days after Takeo's inauguration as Nihon's Shogun when the Hideaki had told him of the secret facility in Koreya. It took every ounce of strength he had not to betray his true feelings about the emperor's plans. In all of history, Nihon had always faced its enemies with honor. Despite his oath to obey, he knew there was nothing honorable about Hideaki's covert operations on the peninsula.

  Two of his men jumped onto the dock, which broke Takeo from his wandering thoughts. They carried the scroll containing Emperor Hideaki's official orders and met the Koreyan official waiting for him.

  Takeo joined the commander on the wooden pier moments after the ship finished docking. The morning air was cool and humid. Takeo stepped through the fog, and he noticed that the nervous Koreyan officer kept shifting his weight back and forth between his feet. Two lines of Xian soldiers stood at attention lining the walkway from the pier to the shore. The area was nearly deserted. No banners flew, and no fanfare greeted the Eastern Sui's new rulers. The silence was eerie yet peaceful. Takeo wallowed in the fleeting moment of serenity before business began.

  The officer finished reading the royal scroll. With a quick bow, he addressed Takeo with a low and authoritative voice. “Shogun Takeo Yoneda, I am Commander Tai Kwan at your service. Your presence here is a welcome surprise.”

  Takeo returned with a bow, careful not to bend too low. “This will be a short visit. The emperor wishes for assurances that the experiments are being completed on schedule.”

  “Of course, Shogun.” Tai escorted Takeo and his dozen men to shore. “Your scientists are efficient. This morning's report shows they are in fact ahead of schedule.”

  Waiting for them was an antique locomotive sitting on railroad tracks and pulling three passenger cars. The black smoke puffed from the single smokestack, impatient to begin its journey. Commander Tai climbed the steps of the middle car and opened the door for Takeo.

  Once inside, Takeo sat on a long, comfortable sofa placed near the center of the car. Six of his men took positions within the cabin. They went to the seats positioned at all four corners, and the rest of his soldiers climbed into the third car.

  Tai sat on the sofa opposite Takeo's. “Have you ever been to Koreya before?”

  The long seat was almost too soft. Takeo exhaled deeply, and his muscles loosened as he sank into its cushions. “Once before. I took several brigades with me to do joint trainings with the Xian military. That was two years ago.”

  The entire car jerked when the locomobile surged forward, gaining momentum on the iron tracks. It had been years since Takeo rode in a steam train on rails, and he found the rhythmic metal clanging almost hypnotic.

  “We held a grand celebration when Supreme Chancellor Song declared our alliance with Nihon,” said Tai. “We tire of fighting the Jin. They are our brothers after all. We hope they will stand with us in defending our new Sun Nation. My brother-in-law enlisted with the Jin years ago. I am relieved to not have to hate my own kin anymore.”

  “Civil war is an ugly thing,” Takeo said.

  He found Tai's enthusiasm to say the right things suspicious.

  Tai leaned forward. “Xia will be one soon.”

  The two hour long trip to the Koreyan region was spectacularly boring. Takeo spent all of it nodding his head and offering little words to Commander Tai du
ring their one-sided conversation. The commander talked of how the Jin and Sui Factions came to hate each other, tearing the once great country in half. Commander Tai's history lecture didn't interest Takeo in the least bit. Tai himself was Koreyan, and that was the only thing that caught Takeo's ear in those two hours.

  The train came to a long drawn out halt, and Takeo shot up from his seat to look out the car window. Koreya was a beautiful country with small towns and cities nestled between jutting mountains and forests. It was much like Nihon, but with an even rockier terrain.

  The morning fog burned away from the rush of bright sunlight. They stopped in Daegu, and Takeo noticed the large bubbling pond near the foot of the tall steps leading to the old building. To his right were two smaller buildings being used as barracks for the soldiers. For now, the Xian, Koreyan, and Nihonese soldiers were segregated. Takeo would integrate them slowly.

  After stepping off of the train and walking down the steep hill, Takeo stopped at the fountain. He watched the white and orange koi swim peacefully in the clear water. It brought a sense of normalcy to the grounds. Fish were a symbol of life in Nihon. Ironic, since nothing but death surrounded him here.

  This used to be the government building of Daegu, but the Koreyans abandoned the site years ago for one closer to the center of the city. The main level and top floors were hardly used, but the lower level housed all of the scientific works.

  Movement at the side entrance of the building caught Takeo's eye. An old steam truck with a long flatbed sat idling at the open doors. He saw two masked Xian workers carry a stretcher and dump its contents onto the bed. Takeo caught a glimpse of a mangled and charred human body roll onto the truck and slide underneath a canvas tarpaulin.

  Abruptly turning away, he motioned for Commander Tai to lead the way.

  Takeo and his men marched up the steps, passing through several stone columns and through a heavy door before entering the building. Commander Tai kept droning on. He enlightened them on the history of the building and the work it took to get the lower level to the Nihon scientists' specifications. By this time, Takeo felt annoyed. Two hours was too long to have spent listening to Tai ramble.

  The lobby was empty. Brick walls surrounded them as they continued towards the back of the deserted chamber and stepped carefully down a chilly and steep stairway. The temperature drop made Takeo shiver.

  They came to a solid iron door guarded by two Xian soldiers in gold armor. The two guards bowed and slid the heavy door open. Takeo followed the commander into a large chamber that must have been a prison a long time ago. There were five jail cells on each side of the wide hallway, and all but one was empty.

  “We keep the test subjects in these cells prior to the experiments,” Commander Tai said, pointing to the barren jail. “As you can see, we need more recruits.”

  Takeo swallowed his dread. In one cell, a man dressed in dark blue lay on a bench. The prisoner remained asleep and didn't acknowledge their presence when they walked past him. He expected to see men rotting in this facility, but from what Takeo could tell, this test subject looked to be in good shape. It seemed a waste to use strong and robust bodies for these gruesome experiments.

  At the other end of the hall, Commander Tai opened another heavy sliding door. This was the heart of the facility, the main laboratory. Takeo stared at a multitude of glass beakers, small burners, and an army of scientists in brown overalls hovered over thousands of multicolored chemicals being measured and mixed. It was controlled chaos. The work of ingenuity creating death.

  One scientist abandoned her station and stood at attention after bowing to Takeo. He assumed she was Dr. Sanu, a revered scientific mind of Nihon. Emperor Hideaki had personally appointed her as chief of this project. She was petite with white streaks running through her jet black hair, and her face looked stern.

  This was their first meeting in person, and the impatient look in her eyes let Takeo know she was taking time away from her work and didn't appreciate this interruption from even the Shogun.

  “Commander Tai informs me you are progressing faster than expected,” Takeo said after giving a slight bow.

  Dr. Sanu's irritation rose to her face. “We had our greatest challenges in the last three seasons, but we have made extraordinary progress. There is more work to be done. The delivery method of the toxin is the most difficult phase of our work.”

  “Doctor, would you be so kind as to give me a complete report on your progress with exact time lines?” Takeo requested. “The emperor is depending on all of us to complete this project on time.”

  The woman frowned. “Of course, Shogun. Make sure Emperor Hideaki understands the inherent dangers of handling deadly bacteria. Twenty days into our second season of work at this new site, thirteen of my scientists died from infection. It was a major setback.”

  Takeo felt the urge to leave, but he fought to maintain control. “The emperor fully acknowledges the demanding and delicate nature of your work. He appreciates how safety and extreme care are paramount when dealing with such a fragile and deadly pestilence.”

  Dr. Sanu slowly nodded, but Takeo knew she still wasn't satisfied. “The key was to find a material that would hold the bio toxins, yet remain stable enough to handle the installation into an explosive device. We designed special ceramic containers for this reason.” She held up a cream-colored box that easily fit in the palm of her small hand.

  “Excellent,” Takeo managed, feeling a bead of cold sweat forming on his scalp. “Emperor Hideaki will be most pleased with your ingenuity.”

  “We are continuing to test this delivery method, but as you might have noticed on your way in here, we have nearly run out of test subjects,” said Dr. Sanu. “We would like to test the pestilence on more appropriate subjects.”

  Takeo felt his jaw twitch. “Appropriate?”

  “Since we are developing this weapon to defend against Iberian soldiers, we need test subjects with a similar physical make up. Up until recently, we tested it on beggars and criminals. That is why I asked you to provide more suitable bodies. Perhaps soldiers. Prisoners of war or other condemned men. We need strong, healthy subjects.”

  Takeo nodded, not able to speak. His mind recalled the lone prisoner in the jail cell on the main floor of the building. He possessed the physique of a warrior, and that's what got his attention. The man was a soldier.

  Dr. Sanu pointed with her hand. “This way, Shogun.”

  A bullet or a blade could easily take a life. But there was no defense against the invisible pestilence. He stared at the ceramic box. It was hard to believe that a harmless-looking object had the power to kill an entire army. When Takeo followed Dr. Sanu to her office, he longed for the simple and straightforward struggles of the battlefield. At least there, he could see the enemy coming.

  THE HUMID CHAMBER HAD GROWN more unbearable in the three hours they watched Marcel work on the spydread machine. The audience, except for Geller's bodyguard Kamau, stripped down to their undershirts. Geller smeared the sweat from his balding head, feeling the sting of salt poke at the corners of his eyes. Marcel, however, was relentless and never paused to even relieve himself or ask for water. Large metal gears and other parts littered the floor around the spydread, and the boy foraged through several large wooden bins full of spare parts.

  “This is a colossal waste of time.” King Tlacatl wiped his face and threw his damp handkerchief onto the ground. “He's mutilated the machine's innards. If it was broken before, it surely is beyond repair now.”

  If Geller had not been so wilted, he would have scolded the king of garbage, but he dismissed Tlacatl with a shake of his head instead. He got up from his sweat soaked chair and approached the spider-like vehicle. Marcel was sprawled on the machine's main hull. His lower half lay on the metal shell while his upper body was deep inside the spydread's guts.

  “How much longer, Marcel?” Geller asked.

  The sound of a cranking wrench stopped, and Marcel's metallic voice replied, “Soon.
Very soon.”

  “Can you hurry it up?” Geller felt himself on the verge of snapping. Marcel represented more than an entire life's worth of money to him, and he was ready to throw it all away to escape the oppressive heat of the chamber. “Finish it now.”

  Marcel pulled his head out of the spydread. “The governor valve was completely shattered. I had to find another one to replace it. The condenser was broken, and the pump was too. It was a mess.”

  “And?” Geller's head was throbbing.

  Marcel's face was covered in soot and grease. “I'm practically finished.”

  Geller's arm dropped to his sides and he went back to his moist chair. Nineteen of his twenty men grumbled as they watched Marcel climb up and plop behind the controls of the spydread. Kamau sat absolutely still, the drops of sweat raining down his dark bald head. Geller envied his bodyguard's ability to withstand the heat, but of course Kamau had Nubian blood.

  “What is the point of all this, Olaf?” Tlacatl's thin hands fanned his long face. “The boy is only fooling around. He has no idea what he's doing.”

  A sharp hiss made them jump. Marcel sat in the cockpit. When he pulled various levers, the iron spider shifted. All eight of its legs jolted to life until the engine died. Geller saw the boy smile, and his long lost excitement returned to his belly. The child jumped off the machine and grabbed a tank of water. Marcel fell backwards, unable to lift the barrel.

  “Kamau,” Geller snapped, turning to his bodyguard.

  The dark warrior snapped to attention. He sprang from his chair and lifted the barrel of water for the boy. Marcel climbed back to the spydread's main hull, and with Kamau's assistance pulled the container up to him. Carefully, the child poured the entire contents of the barrel into the boiler. Kamau tossed the empty container aside and went back to his seat.

  “Is it done?” Geller didn't care that his armpits were raw from his wet skin rubbing against his shirt.

  “Almost.” Marcel twirled a wrench. “Just one more thing.”

  The child jumped off the machine and went to the rear of the spydread. Geller couldn't see exactly what the boy was doing, but he heard the clang of a metal door opening and then shutting. When Marcel came to the head of the giant spider, his shirt was covered in blue dust. He climbed back into the cockpit and pulled the same levers as before. A heavy whoosh of fire bellowed from the spider's belly, and the rumbling filled the chamber. Geller was both elated and horrified.