Gideon Smith and the Brass Dragon

by David Barnett

  Thus her days and nights rolled into one, and she began to forget why she was doing what she was doing. She was ready to succumb to the waves and the predators that circled, warily, around her, when she came upon a bigger island. This one wasn’t empty. Tiny figures pointed and swarmed as she clambered up on the rocks, and she remembered. Remembered the ones who had invaded her home, the ones who had stolen that which was most precious.

  She fed well, though she sensed these were not the creatures that had raided her nest. No matter, they were enough alike. But her hunger for vengeance was not sated, and she knew that there must be more of the two-legged creatures out there somewhere.

  And there were. Dusk was heavy over the calm sea as she sighted the huge bulge of land that stretched, dizzyingly, as far as she could see. She had thought her island and the surrounding iron-gray ocean the extent of the world.

  She had been wrong. As the first creatures on their tiny boats beheld her with astonishment then sped for the land, an eerie wail began to sound over the city. It was like the death song of an injured beast.

  The feeding would be good in this place, and she would finally have her revenge.

  * * *

  “That’s it, isn’t it?” said Gideon flatly. “The thing from the island.”

  “Unless you’re on speaking terms with any other tyrannosaurs, then I’d hazard a guess that it probably is.” Bent nodded, never taking his eyes from the beast that lumbered out of the shallows, threw its enormous, green-scaled head back, and roared, shaking the very hillside they stood upon.

  “That is what Jinzouningen was designed for,” said Serizawa bitterly. “There is an island … we know it only as sector thirty-one. It is closer to California but officially in Japanese waters. It is top secret. Impenetrable.”

  “Not anymore,” said Bent.

  “I’m very much afraid that is our fault,” said Gideon. “We went to this sector thirty-one on a rescue mission. We had no idea…” He looked at Bent. “But can it have followed us? Really?”

  “I don’t think it’s after us specifically, but close,” said Bent. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t think much of it at the time, but when we were leaving the island I went to look for the head on the ship—I damn near shat myself when that thing came running out of the trees. Though I suppose that’s a little more information than you need. Anyway, I saw old Professor Rubicon skulking around in the engine room, so I thought I’d see what he was up to. He was stashing something by the furnace. I had a quick look after he’d gone, but I thought it was just, you know, scientific samples and all that.”

  “What was it, Aloysius?” asked Gideon, wishing he’d get to the point.

  “It was an egg, Gideon. What I now reckon was an effing tyrannosaur egg. And Mummy ain’t happy, not one bit.”

  “Only the Japanese and Californian Meiji officials know the island as sector thirty-one,” said Serizawa, looking down the hillside at the dinosaur with what looked to Gideon to be something that approached admiration. “Children and those who like old tales call it Monster Island.”

  “And we have destroyed your only defense,” said Gideon. He felt sick.

  “Still,” said Bent. “They’ve gone and dumped you, haven’t they, Serizawa? No skin off your nose what happens to them.”

  “But what about my class?” asked Michi, held tightly in her mother’s arms. “I don’t want it to eat my teacher.”

  “She is right, Haruki,” said Akiko. “There are innocent people down there.”

  Serizawa nodded. He said to Gideon, “They have banished us, true. But…” He glanced at Lyle, who was staring with a mixture of horror and fascination at the beast loping up and down the harbor in the gathering gloom. “Those in power do many things that the ordinary people would not necessarily countenance.”

  Gideon took his point. “Quite. Is there anything we can do…?”

  “You have a rather marvelous brass dragon, Smith-san.” Serizawa nodded. “Perhaps…?”

  “Maria!” said Gideon. He bent beside her. She seemed unconscious, though the machinery within her still hummed and throbbed.

  “She is the pilot?” guessed Serizawa. “She requires a doctor?”

  “An effing mechanic, more like.” Bent chuckled. “She’s clockwork, you see. Not a real woman.”

  Serizawa, with the help of his wife, crouched beside Gideon. “Clockwork? An automaton? How fascinating…”

  “There’s a bit more to it than that,” sniffed Gideon. “But Mr. Bent is right; I’m not wholly sure what has happened but there appears to be some kind of damage to her internal workings.”

  Serizawa smiled. “Then you are incredibly lucky that I am here. I am the finest scientist in the Californian Meiji. Possibly even the whole of America!”

  * * *

  As Gideon began to tell Serizawa all he knew about Maria, Bent sidled over to the young woman. Pretty little thing. He’d always liked ’em a bit exotic. Put him in mind of the folk in Limehouse, London’s Chinatown, a little, but different.… The thought sent a familiar tickle to the base of his skull, the one that was like an alarm bell telling him he should be sniffing around this particular thing or that particular thing. Then he remembered his notebook, jammed into his pocket.

  “Here, Akiko, is it?” he asked.

  She frowned at him then nodded. “That is correct, Bent-san. Can I be of assistance?”

  “I reckon you probably can.” He smiled, showing the stumps and gaps in his wide mouth. “Back in New York I took a drawing of a bit of Japanese writing. It awfully puts me in mind of something. Wondered if you could take a look, maybe translate it for me? I must say, your English is effing—I mean, wonderfully, erm, good.”

  She inclined her head. “Thank you. We occasionally trade with caravans of wagons from the east; I like to read English books.”

  “Oh, I’m something of an author myself,” said Bent, withdrawing his notebook. “You ever get World Marvels & Wonders? It’s a particularly high-quality publication in London. I write the adventures of our Gideon Smith up for it. He’s something of a hero, you see.”

  She surveyed the wreckage of the mechanical man and cocked an ear to the roar of the dinosaur that had now begun to nose through the fragile pagoda roofs of the houses nearest the harbor. Someone screamed distantly, and Akiko covered the child’s ears with her hands. “I suppose that’s a matter of perspective,” she said.

  “Yes, well,” said Bent, and jabbed a thumb at Lyle. “Like your hubby said, them as is in charge don’t always have people’s best interests at heart, even their own. Like your fellow with the sword. I mean to say, I’ve had some fierce bosses, but I’ve never been asked to disembowel myself before.” He paused. “Well, there was the time I was told to take my pen and shove it—anyway, that’s by the by. This writing I was telling you about…?”

  Akiko glanced down at Bent’s notebook. “I can see your mistake, Bent-san. It is similar to Japanese, but I believe that is actually a Chinese pictogram.”

  Bent frowned. “Chinese? But it was a tattoo on the neck of one of those Japanese assassins—what did Lyle call ’em? Ninjas. On the neck of one of the ninjas that attacked him back in New York…”

  Then he realized where he had seen the symbol before, why it was so familiar. It had only been that year, in March or April, when there had been all those murders in Limehouse, over that shipment of opium that had gone missing from the docks. The Chinese criminal gangs, the tongs. This was the mark the toughest of them wore as tattoos, just like the assassin in New York.

  The mark of the dragon tong.

  “Then he wasn’t Japanese at all,” Bent said slowly. He cast a surreptitious glance at Lyle, who was glowering at him. Bent swallowed drily. He needed to speak to Gideon.

  * * *

  “Remarkable,” Serizawa said. “A human brain and a body of clockwork? Truly remarkable.”

  “But can you help her?” asked Gideon.

  Serizawa shrugged. “I can try. Do you
have any tools and instruments?”

  “Plenty on the Skylady III, and room to work,” said Rowena. She wiped her hands on a rag and put her tools into her bag. “We took a couple of stray bullets in the gondola and near the helium cells. I’ve been patching the old girl up.” She dropped her voice. “But, Gideon, I really need to speak to you.”

  “And me,” said Bent.

  Gideon pinched his nose. “Seriously, can this wait?” He turned to Serizawa. “Do what you can. I beg of you. She is very special to me.”

  Akiko shook her husband’s shoulder. “Haruki. I don’t think there will be time. The monster is going berserk. It will destroy Nyu Edo.”

  Gideon stood straight. “We will help.” He turned to Rowena, and beyond her to Inez and Chantico, who were hanging back near the ’stat, watching everything with interest. “Are you two up for a little excitement?”

  Inez waved her sword. “Yes, Señor Smith. And we have something that might help!”

  Rowena said, “Aloysius half blew up one of Pinch’s Steamcrawlers. We loaded it up into the hold, and I think Chantico and Inez might have patched it up enough to work.”

  Gideon smiled. “Perfect! We’ll take the Steamcrawler down to the town and try to hold off the dinosaur while Serizawa works on Maria. If she recovers quickly enough, she can fly Apep down to finish the job.”

  Gideon heard a strangled yelp from Bent. The thought of more danger, undoubtedly. Conversely, Gideon felt his heart race at the prospect. It was as if with each new adventure he began to believe, just a little bit more, what they said about him. Perhaps, after all, he really was the Hero of the—

  “You have all got to be fucking joking, of course,” said the voice of Edward Lyle. “Pardon my French, ladies.”

  Gideon turned to see Bent, wild-eyed and red-faced, floundering against Lyle, who had his arm around the journalist’s throat. In his other hand he held a stubby Derringer pistol, which was pointing right at Bent’s head.

  “I think we all need to calm down and get a bit of perspective here,” said Lyle. “Nobody is going anywhere, is that understood?”

  28

  SEIZE THE DAY

  Before Gideon even knew what he was doing, he had drawn from his belt the pearl-handled revolver that had until recently belonged to Louis Cockayne. He brought it up in a fluid movement until he held it with his arm outstretched, one eye closed and the other sizing up the sweating head of Edward Lyle along the sights.

  “I’m not sure what you’re doing, Governor,” he said evenly. “But please release Mr. Bent.”

  “Just getting your attention, Smith,” said Lyle, but he kept the gun at Bent’s head; the journalist held up his hands to show the governor that he wasn’t going to make any sudden moves.

  “Again: Release Bent, then we’ll talk.”

  Lyle looked jumpy, his eyes wide. He said, “You’ve pulled a gun on the Governor of New York, Smith. What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  Gideon heard a click to his right and risked a glance. Jeb Hart had his own gun out, pointing at Gideon. Lyle smiled and seemed to relax somewhat.

  “Good work, Jeb. Keep your gun on him.” Lyle pushed the barrel of his Derringer into Bent’s temple. “And just so we keep this nice and neat from here on in, the next person who draws a weapon ensures the fat boy buys the farm.”

  “Hey, now!” protested Bent. “I’m not fat, I’m big boned.”

  There was a moment’s silence, punctuated only by the roar of the tyrannosaur in Nyu Edo below.

  “Governor,” said Gideon. “Please. Allow Serizawa to work on Maria. Let me go and put right what I’ve done before the monster slaughters everyone.”

  Lyle smiled crookedly. “Isn’t that exactly what we want, Smith? We came here as a war party, after all. The best thing is, we don’t even have to lift a finger. We can just stand by and let that crazy beast destroy Nyu Edo for us. I’m not even asking you and your freak clockwork girl to do anything anymore, Smith. All I want you to do is nothing, like a good little hero.”

  Gideon kept the gun on Lyle, at the same time asking himself, What the hell are you doing? Are you really going to shoot the Governor of New York?

  Maybe I am, he thought. Maybe I have to.

  “Governor…,” he said. “Think about your wife. And your son. If I have to do this, I will. Think about them.”

  Bent nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, Lyle. Cora? Clara! Clara and little Alfie! Think about them!”

  “Shut up,” said Lyle. “Shut the fuck up.”

  Hart coughed. “Clara and Alfie? They’re dead.”

  “Shut the fuck up!” screamed Lyle.

  Gideon frowned. “Dead?”

  “Yes, they’re dead!” said Lyle, pushing the barrel of the gun harder into Bent’s temple. “Back in ’eighty-seven, we had a winter like we’d never seen. We couldn’t cope. Couldn’t keep the fires burning. I lost them both to pneumonia. Swore the lights would never go out in New York again, Smith. And they won’t. Hart, shoot him.”

  Gideon turned his head slightly, not taking his eyes off Lyle, and said to Hart, “You’re going to do that?”

  Lyle laughed. “Jeb Hart does exactly what I tell him to, and right now I’m telling him that if you don’t put your goddamn gun on to the ground, he’s going to blow your head off.”

  There was another roar, seemingly closer. The dinosaur must be making its way up the hilly streets of Nyu Edo. Serizawa’s daughter, Michi, began to quietly cry.

  “The thing is,” said Jeb Hart casually, “that’s not strictly true, Governor.”

  Lyle blinked. “What?”

  “I mostly do what you say, so long as it chimes with the needs of the people who actually pay my wages.”

  “And who might they be?” said Lyle, his concentration slipping. Gideon squinted along the barrel of his gun again. He could take Lyle out now, with one shot … but ultimately, the governor was right. Gideon couldn’t start shooting up servants of the Crown. Not without reason.

  Hart grinned. “You could say me and Mr. Smith have the same boss.”

  Gideon couldn’t help but turn his head toward the man pointing the gun at him. “Are you talking about Walsin—”

  Hart raised the forefinger of his free hand to his lips. “Hush now, Smith. Too much information is a bad thing, yeah?”

  “You’re lying,” said Gideon.

  Hart shook his head. “Did you really think the mission to reclaim the brass dragon would be left to you and Bent? I’ve been working for the Crown for years, keeping a low profile, traveling across America and gathering information, helping out where and when needed. I was your backup, Smith.”

  Bent winced as Lyle pressed the gun harder into his head. “So, what?” said the governor. “You’re on his side now? Then why the hell are you still pointing a gun at him?”

  Hart shrugged. “Because you’re the Governor of New York, and you have been given approval by the Prime Minister to stage a retaliatory strike against Nyu Edo. Gideon Smith is disobeying your direct command. So, no, Governor Lyle, I’m still on your side.”

  “Then shoot the asshole,” spat Lyle.

  “Wait!” said Bent. “Hart, hold on!”

  “Shoot Smith!” said Lyle, his voice rising tremulously.

  Hart raised one eyebrow. “Hold it, Governor. What’ve you got to say, Bent?”

  Bent swallowed, his eyes swiveling around to try to look at the gun at his head. “Are you going to shoot me if you don’t like what I say?”

  “Probably,” said Lyle.

  Bent took a deep breath, and locked eyes with Jeb Hart. “The whole thing’s a crock of effing shit. The Prime Minister has been conned. There was no attack on Lyle, was there, Governor? Those ninja weren’t Japanese at all. That tattoo on the assassin’s neck, it was from the dragon tong. Chinese gangsters. You’ve got a Chinatown in New York, haven’t you? I don’t know how you roped in four of ’em to attack you on a suicide mission…”

  A cloud passed over Lyle
’s face, then he shrugged. “Sing Sing prison’s full of tong crooks who’ll cut any kind of deal to get out of jail. So I massaged the truth a little. It’s only a matter of time before the Japs make a move for real.”

  “But that’s not all, is it?” said Rowena. Gideon arched an eyebrow in her direction. His friends seemed to have been uncovering all manner of secrets. Perhaps he should have been taking more notice of them.

  She walked into Gideon’s sight line and withdrew a folded piece of paper from inside her shirt. She held it up. “This is the letter from the Prime Minister.”

  “You going to tell me that it’s fake?” asked Gideon.

  “No,” said Rowena. “I think it probably is Mr. Gascoyne-Cecil’s signature. It was Governor Lyle’s mark that interested me more.”

  “Maybe I’ll sign you an autograph later,” said Lyle. “When I’m Governor of Nyu Edo as well.” He seemed to suddenly lose patience. “Come on, Smith, put your gun down. I’m gonna count to five.”

  “The thing is,” Rowena continued, “I’d already seen your signature before, but I didn’t know it then. I saw it on the manifest for the coal run to Steamtown that’s in your pocket. For which the payment was people, stolen from the streets. That was you, Lyle. You said you’d do anything to keep the lights on in New York City. And that includes trading lives.”

  Gideon stared at Lyle, filled with loathing. Was this what power did to a man? Stripped him of his humanity?

  “Why?” he asked. “You fake an assassination attempt on your own life, cook up some story that the Japanese are working on a weapon that can destroy cities … why? Why did you want war with the Californian Meiji?”

  Rowena tucked the damning paper back in her shirt. “Lyle and Hart looked as surprised as anyone when we saw Serizawa’s metal man.” She looked curiously at Jeb. “What did you really discover in California, if it wasn’t a weapon?”

  “I think I can answer that,” said Serizawa. He dug into a pocket in his laboratory coat. “My daughter went on a trip with her school into the hills, not very far from here. She brought this back.”