The Brazen Shark

by David Lee Summers

  “You’re correct I do not need your forgiveness, Ramon Morales, but I desire it.” During the next silence, Ramon pictured clockworks whirring and ticking. “I will outlive you, but I might not outlive your kind. I hope your children will look on me with fondness and seek me out as a friend.”

  * * *

  The clouds started to break up as Fatemeh and Captain Cisneros walked through the woods. Their footfalls sounded all too loud. “If they’re looking for me, they’ll have no trouble finding me.”

  “If the samurai are camped where you left them, Imagawa must have their attention by now.”

  She looked up at blue slices peeking through the clouds. Despite her exhaustion, it gave her hope. She also suspected her fatigue kept her brain from shutting out the captain’s actions in the grove. She needed to address the issue in order to clear her head. “Why did you hug me?”

  The captain stopped and cocked an eyebrow. “Did I do something wrong?”

  “Well, it’s just not proper,” said Fatemeh. “After all, I’m another man’s wife.” The words sounded strange to her and she knew people in some other cultures were less reserved about touching, even when the other sex was concerned.

  A thorough gentleman, the captain refrained from laughing, but his smile showed great amusement. “Fatemeh, I’ve come to think of you as a dear friend. You set me on a good course in life. You called on me in an hour of great need. I worried when I found you’d disappeared from the camp. You’re like a sister to me.” He paused for a moment, then inclined his head. “I hope it wasn’t wrong to hug someone who is like a sister.”

  She closed her eyes against a tear which formed as she considered her own family. “Not wrong at all.” She hated the quaver in her voice. “I just wish my own family had been so kind.”

  He stepped closer and put his arm around her shoulder. “You’re trembling. We should turn around and return to the Calamar. You need to get warm.”

  Fatemeh thought the plan sounded excellent, but she forced herself to shake her head. “Imagawa reminds me of you when we met. Bad circumstances damaged her, but she has potential. I see her as family, too.”

  Cisneros chuckled. “All right, my sister. Let’s go get our cousin and find some place warm.”

  They walked a hundred more yards when raised voices became clear. They spoke so fast, Fatemeh had a hard time understanding their words. Despite her weariness, Fatemeh sprinted ahead with Cisneros close on her heels.

  When they broke into the clearing where the samurai had camped the night before, Fatemeh stopped in her tracks. Hoshi corralled the samurai into a wide semi-circle. At the focus stood Imagawa and Nanbu.

  Imagawa held her sword overhead. Nanbu held his across his body. Imagawa thrust downward, but Nanbu caught the thrust on the flat of his blade and swung out. The move threw Imagawa off balance and gave Nanbu a chance to reposition himself. Imagawa recovered just in time to evade Nanbu’s thrust. They each scrambled to new positions. Imagawa crouched low and Nanbu stood with his sword before him. Imagawa feinted, then thrust upward, driving her katana in between two ribs as Nanbu sliced the wrong way, attempting to block. Four samurai looked among themselves, then bolted for the river’s opposite bank. Hoshi let them go.

  Nanbu’s knees gave way, but he held onto his sword. Imagawa pulled her sword free and took a step back. On his knees and panting, Nanbu clutched his wound. From the blood gushing around his fingers, Fatemeh guessed Imagawa struck his liver. Despite the injury, Nanbu struggled to regain his feet. Imagawa took another step back and held her sword in front of her.

  Cisneros cocked his pistol. Fatemeh looked from him to the remaining samurai. He didn’t aim, just kept the weapon ready.

  Nanbu reached his feet and gripped his sword in quavering hands, but even Fatemeh realized he held the sword too low to block a blow. Fatemeh ran toward the fight. “No!” she shouted.

  The distraction allowed Nanbu to get in a half-hearted thrust. Imagawa dodged and raised her sword. She brought down it in a clean arc which stuck in his neck. Nanbu dropped to the ground. A gurgling filled the still forest. Imagawa lifted her blade and brought it down again, severing Nanbu’s head.

  Fatemeh turned and clamped her eyes and mouth shut to stifle a scream which contained more anger than horror. Cisneros had called her family and indeed, Fatemeh had begun to think of Imagawa that way, but all at once, she seemed more like the Persian family she abandoned than the American family she adopted.

  Murmurings sounded behind Fatemeh. She turned and Imagawa wiped her blade and sheathed it. Hoshi barked commands and the men pledged their allegiance to Imagawa.

  “I am ready to go with you, now,” she said.

  Fatemeh struggled to find words in Japanese. She could call them up in Persian, French and English, but she couldn’t put enough Japanese words together to tell Imagawa she was a barbarian. Imagawa represented the world Fatemeh rejected. Her world could burn to ashes, and Fatemeh would help set it alight.

  The healer turned and stalked back to Cisneros who said something she didn’t hear. She continued into the forest.

  When she breathed easier and blood no longer pounded in her head, she listened. The owl hooted. She sought it out and followed its voice. It led her back to the trail. She walked along, oblivious to the pain in her feet and her stomach’s growling. She longed to be in Ramon’s arms and wished circumstances had not sent him as far away as St. Petersburg.

  She struggled atop a rise, then her legs wouldn’t move any longer. She dropped to the ground and sat there, out of energy. She tried to stop the tears, but they came anyway. It had been almost two years since she felt this lonesome, since before Ramon came into her life.

  Crunching snow and twigs heralded Cisneros tromping up the trail. Loud as the one-time pirate could be, more than one person marched up with him. She suspected Imagawa, Hoshi, and the others as well. She tried to rise but failed.

  Imagawa knelt down beside her. She shifted a pack from her back. Fatemeh recognized it as Nanbu’s. Imagawa took out a piece of dried fish and handed it to Fatemeh, then handed her a suitou bottle filled with water. Fatemeh stared at her for a moment, then took the bottle and drank some water. She ate the fish in a few bites, then drank a little more.

  With a sigh, she allowed Imagawa to help her stand.

  “I am ready to face my fate,” said Imagawa. “Thank you for not allowing me to end my life.”

  Fatemeh looked at her and wondered if she’d made the right choice after all.

  * * *

  The Bonchō passed into Russian Turkistan at night. Their course carried them near the Golden Mountains of Altai. Despite the idyllic name, Ramon spent a fitful night as winds poured off the mountains and buffeted the little Japanese airship. At one point, the floor dropped out from below Ramon, but it took a few seconds for him to smack into the tatami mat on the floor. The moment of floating reminded him of the time Legion showed him the distant reaches between the planets. Legion called it weightlessness.

  Ramon thought he must have been asleep and dreamed the sensation, but a sudden shudder ran through the walls and made him sit bolt upright. He peered around the darkened cabin. A few minutes later, the winds lessened to a gentle swaying rhythm and Ramon drifted off to sleep.

  A gentle knock on the cabin door awoke him later and he padded over, tried to push it open, then remembered it slid sideways. Lord Katsu’s automaton stood on the other side holding a carafe and a coffee cup. “Thank you,” muttered Ramon as he took the proffered items. The automaton trundled away.

  Ramon slid the door shut, poured some coffee and tried to wake up. Once dressed, he walked forward to the bridge. The officers stood by the forward windows in quiet consultation. One looked through a spyglass, then lowered it.

  Ramon looked down at the chart table and noted their position—about halfway across Russian Turkistan.

  Perhaps less than a thousand miles south stood Persia—Fatemeh’s homeland. She’d described it to him as a desert land
with palm trees, beautiful and harsh all at once. He sensed she missed it in much the way he missed Socorro. The scent of hot oil or distant church bells ringing would remind him of the place he once called home. They both left because people wanted to use power to dominate and control them rather than use their strengths to be good neighbors and help.

  He left the bridge and climbed the steps at the gondola’s stern. The view from the catwalk took Ramon’s breath away. A white field of puffy clouds lay below them, so thick, he could almost believe a giant’s castle lay somewhere below. If he did encounter such a thing, would he be Jack and attempt to take what he could before the giant crushed him, or could he and the giant find a way to be friends? It occurred to Ramon there are two choices when you smell blood, help or attack.

  Ramon felt a presence nearby. He looked up to see Dmitri Mendeleev. “Beautiful is it not?”

  Ramon was pleased to understand the Russian phrase without Legion’s help. “Yes it is,” he shouted to be heard over the engine’s roar.

  “This is why I wanted to build airships,” called the scientist. “I wanted to see sights like this, see new places and experience new things. I did not build them for war.” His eyes glistened. “It seems like there’s always a war and soldiers will take any advantage they have.”

  “Why must there always be war?” Ramon grabbed the lines before him and peered out at the blue sky. The petty concerns of humans below seemed far away.

  Mendeleev shrugged. “Russia is so large and we have neighbors all around. Sometimes they want what we have, sometimes we want what they have.” He shook his head and turned around, leaning back on the railing. Ramon feared he might topple over backwards. “We can’t afford a war with Japan right now. We already have a war with the United States and I hear the Ottoman Turks swarm over Bosnia.”

  Ramon considered the analogy with Jack and the Beanstalk. “Neighbors are happier when they share with each other.”

  Mendeleev grunted. Ramon sensed the scientist agreed, but didn’t know how to convince others of such a simple principle. “Rough night last night?” Mendeleev changed the subject.

  Ramon nodded.

  “I feared this airship would crash. It’s not as strong as Russian airships.”

  Having been aboard a Russian airship, Ramon had to agree. More than Russian pride fueled Mendeleev’s sentiment. Ramon looked down at the clouds beneath the walkway’s metal grating. Vertigo washed over him. His heart skipped a beat, his stomach lurched, and he reached out and grabbed a rope to stop the sensation of falling. He closed his eyes and lifted his head to face the distant horizon. His vision settled. “Do you think the Japanese could be taught to build more … robust airships?”

  Mendeleev frowned but nodded. “The czar wouldn’t approve. It takes many people a long time to build an airship. Four Russian craft have now been destroyed. We’re building a fifth, but it isn’t finished yet.”

  Ramon filed the information away as a chill sent a shudder rippling over his skin. “What if Japan had something to offer Russia?”

  “Japan’s main value is its sea ports.”

  Ramon sighed. “You know, airships reduce the need for warm water sea ports when it comes to trade.”

  Mendeleev nodded. “The thought has occurred to me, but it doesn’t answer what Japan could offer Russia.”

  “Let me think about that.” Ramon looked at his pocket watch. “It’s getting late. We should meet with Itō. Perhaps he will have some ideas.”

  Mendeleev nodded and the two walked back down into the gondola. Ramon sighed at the relative quiet of the interior. They gathered in Itō’s quarters. Lord Katsu’s automaton set out cups and poured tea. Ramon watched it and remembered the frightening rides, pulled through Tokyo’s streets. Though the automaton had moved at breakneck speed, it never crashed and it always arrived at its destinations. It had the strength to pull a rickshaw with two people, and yet it handled the delicate china with grace and ease.

  “I have a feeling Japan may have something to offer Russia in exchange for better airship technology.”

  Itō looked up with interest.

  Mendeleev followed Ramon’s gaze and nodded, appreciating the idea. “Tireless automata welding, riveting, building. Indeed, they could build airships much faster than humans.”

  “And they could be used for far more than airships,” suggested Ramon. “They could operate factories, build houses, harvest crops. In exchange, Russia could show Japan how to improve its airships.”

  “You propose a trade?” Itō narrowed his gaze. “One technology for another to prevent a war?”

  “I propose Russia and Japan must learn to be good neighbors.” Ramon folded his arms. “Good neighbors share and cooperate rather than fight.”

  Itō nodded. “I like the way you think, Mr. Morales, but the mechanical man is one thing I cannot allow you to trade. We will be neighborly in other ways, but not this one.”

  “Not everyone wishes to be good neighbors,” cautioned Mendeleev. “Some just want to own everything.”

  “Which inevitably leads to someone falling down a beanstalk.” Ramon folded his arms. “Fee fi fo fum.”

  * * *

  Fatemeh, Cisneros, Hoshi, Imagawa, and the four men who remained loyal to her trekked back through the forest to the flood plain. They found the Calamar at the forest’s edge and climbed aboard. Cisneros seemed too weary to complain about eight passengers. Hoshi sat cross-legged on the floor for the rough ride back to the beach.

  Fatemeh took a seat at the stern and huddled by the engine, absorbing its heat. They rolled down the river valley in just a few hours and reached the Sea of Japan a little after noon. In the distance, a ship moved toward the shore. Cisneros lifted a spyglass, then spat out a curse.

  “It’s the Russian patrol ship we saw earlier,” he explained. “We can’t let them get their hands on the Calamar.” He dropped below, sealed the hatch, and opened the throttle. The craft shot forward and Hoshi tumbled over backwards. A whistle followed by an explosion sounded nearby.

  “Are they trying to destroy us?” asked Fatemeh. “I’d think this craft would be more valuable to them in one piece.”

  Cisneros shrugged as he turned valves and threw a lever forward. “If they even recognize it as new technology, I suspect they’d be happy to blow it to bits and sort through the pieces to understand it.”

  The Calamar continued into the waves. When it bobbed and bounced, Cisneros turned a valve to fill the ballast tanks while throwing a lever to retract the treads. Cisneros leaned across Imagawa to throw another lever forward engaging the screw propeller. In shallow water, the small craft eased forward at too slow a pace for Fatemeh’s taste.

  Another explosion sounded much closer. Fatemeh stood and walked forward. She climbed the ladder to the hatch and looked out the forward windows. They rode along on the surface. From her vantage, she couldn’t see far enough to spot the Russian ship.

  She breathed a relieved sigh when water splashed over the upper windows. From behind, samurai fought to suppress terrified gasps and groans as water rushed by the windows. The fright soon gave way to wonder as they descended below the tidal water’s turbulent wake and could peer into the undersea world revealed.

  Cisneros faced forward and refused to relax. Another explosion sounded from behind, close enough to rock the submersible. The Russians had fired where the craft had been, but Cisneros acted fast enough the Russians misjudged. The captain took the submersible even deeper. As they traveled, a chugging noise resounded throughout the small boat.

  “What’s that?” asked Fatemeh.

  “We’re passing below the Russian destroyer,” explained the captain.

  After a few minutes, the ride smoothed out and all became quiet save for Calamar’s own engine chugging away. Fatemeh’s muscles tensed as Imagawa’s gaze fell upon her. Fatemeh knew she would have to talk to Imagawa at some point, but this was not the time. She just wanted to absolve herself of the responsibility.

  As
the undersea voyage wore on, Fatemeh worried the Russian destroyer had found the Ballena first and destroyed it. She looked up at the captain from time to time. If he worried, he gave no outward sign.

  Cisneros checked the gauges, nodded, then surfaced. When he opened the upper hatch, Fatemeh breathed a relieved sigh to see the Ballena standing tall above the water next to them. The captain climbed out and attached hooks to the submersible. Within a few minutes, Boatswain Balderas hoisted them aboard.

  Fatemeh didn’t wait to see what Cisneros did with the samurai. She went to the quarters she’d shared with Ramon. She didn’t even think to ask the captain if she’d been assigned a new cabin.

  She entered, dropped onto a chair and unlaced her boots. She undressed just enough to be comfortable as she stretched out on the bed. Imagawa’s fight with Nanbu kept replaying over and over in her mind.

  When she finally drifted off to sleep, Fatemeh had a nightmare about a young girl who acquired a lamp holding a terrible djinn. The girl thought she could control the djinn and make it a force for good. Instead, the djinn used its power to destroy everything in its path.

  Fatemeh awoke sweat-soaked and panting in a jumble of blankets. The Ballena’s engines rumbled and she knew they were underway. Someone had delivered coffee. Fatemeh poured herself a cup. It had been sitting long enough to grow tepid, but the astringent brew proved welcome nonetheless.

  Fatemeh poured a second cup, then strove to make herself presentable. Stepping into the corridor she found a crewman and asked which cabin Ipokash and Shinriki occupied. The crewman gave her directions and soon she knocked on the door.

  Ipokash answered. Behind her, Shinriki sat at a table. He looked much better than when Fatemeh last saw him. It seemed the captain’s doctor had given the fisherman good care.

  “May I come in?” asked Fatemeh in Japanese.

  Ipokash bowed and then stepped aside.

  “How are you doing?” asked Fatemeh.

  “We are well.” Ipokash said the words with a deep frown. “We are also worried about our village. There are few left.”