The Gold Engine (The Gold Chronicles)

by D. Girard Watson

  It had only taken a few minutes to hike to the settlement. They had landed in the perfect spot. The section of town that they arrived in was a small community that day laborers from Guatemala had made their own. There were general stores that had inexpensive wares, some small dining establishments that were too shabby to be called restaurants, and hundreds of small shacks that clearly served as lodgings for the community. These people were poor.

  No one had given them a second look, much to David's amazement. Lara haggled a fair price for a small hut from the local slumlord: fifty cents a day for a small one room hut with nothing in it but hay for sleeping. They had gone immediately to the base to look for work, and they were rewarded. David was given a job lifting cargo containers in a large warehouse. It was work that allowed him to play his role easily. He did not know Spanish, and as an idiot who was supposedly deaf and dumb, he was mostly ignored by the other workers. The only difficult part was acting as though he truly couldn't hear. When the work whistle for a shift change blew, he had to pretend not to start, and couldn't move before someone tapped him on the shoulder. He had to carefully monitor his reactions.

  The most difficult part was the work itself. He worked a 12 hour day doing nothing but hauling ropes, helping to lift containers, and pushing carts. At the end of the first day, he thought he was going to go into cardiac arrest.

  Lara had putatively found work as a maid on base, but she did not actually hold down a job. She pretended as though she were working, blending in with the hundreds of poor, dirty women who did the unpleasant work of cleaning the base. She dressed the part, and spent her days shuffling around base, getting the lay of land, and chatting with the other women. This last source of information was the most useful. "Do we have to ever clean ships?" "No, no, there are none on base now, but one arrived a few weeks ago. It took weeks to clean?" "Why so messy?" "They were moving oily equipment. Ay ay, nothing got the oil stands out of that wood..!" After a few days, she'd learned that the transport had arrived weeks ago, and it had probably dropped off the machine along with Waterhouse, though obviously, these charwomen didn't know many details.

  Lara also learned some useful intelligence regarding the port. The base was not at all well defended. Only two batteries had been installed to defend against attack by air. Three more were under construction but they would not be ready for months. There was only one ship in port, a sloop called La Negra. The base would be fairly easy to take if an attack came soon and if it came from a number of ships and marines. The Calista couldn't take the base easily, but the odds weren't as overwhelming as she had once thought. The administrators of the base must have been caught off guard by the declaration of war or thought it unlikely that the Americans would stage an attack on such a non-strategic outpost. Whatever the reason, the base was a relatively easy target.

  Every night, Lara returned to the shack to find David passed out with exhaustion. She had hoped that once she located Waterhouse, the two of them might sneak into wherever he was being held and extract him in the middle of the night. She was adept at silently eliminating guards, and security aboard the base was extremely lax since there were few ways on and off the base without being noticed. After about a week, she realized this plan was going to be difficult. The women on base had no useful information about Waterhouse's location.

  "We're going to have to come up with a backup plan," said David.

  Lara nodded. "We may have to return to the ship. We could stay here for months and not get anything useful."

  "But if we return, what happens to the professor?"

  "We got back to New Boston, get reinforcements, and then wage a full assault on the base. It'll be the admirals' call, but I suspect that Waterhouse is important enough that they'll risk an action."

  "They might move him by then."

  "They might."

  "Goddammit!"

  "Quiet," she hissed. "You're supposed to be deaf and dumb, remember?"

  He put his head in his hands.

  "The man is like a father to me. I was never very close to my real dad, but Waterhouse cared about me. There are not many people I'd die for in this world, but he's definitely on the list."

  "Well, we've got to find him soon if we're going to do it at all. How much time do we have left on the jolly boat?"

  "Four days. It has to be tomorrow."

  "If not, we go home."

  Much to both David and Lara's surprise, David located Waterhouse the next day.

  While helping a group of men lift a container onto a storage rack, David saw several soldiers talking to his supervisor. He kept his head down, continuing to work, but snuck glances at the group when he had a chance. One was a colonel and the other two were enlisted men. All wore gleaming uniforms.

  The colonel was talking sharply to the supervisor. He spoke as though he were used to being obeyed. He was pointing to a large container while speaking loudly in Spanish. The supervisor repeatedly pointed to David.

  David started to sweat. His pulse quickened. Had he been found out?

  They walked toward him. He kept working as if he didn't notice until he felt a hand tapping at his shoulder. He turned around: the supervisor.

  He expected to be grabbed by the enlisted men and thrown to the ground and beaten, but he was not. The supervisor pointed to the cargo container that had been previously the topic of discussion, and pantomimed that he should load it onto a push cart. He gave the order to one of David's compatriots, this time in Spanish. After they loaded it on, it was clear to David that he and the other worker were to follow the soldiers while pushing the enormous cart.

  They left the warehouse, trying to keep up with the colonel and his men, who clearly didn't care to slacken their pace for the benefit of the laborers. At several points during the journey, one of the enlisted men turn to yell at David and his partner to move faster. They were both sweating, barely keeping up. They led them down a cobblestone street, past the barracks, and towards a large grey block building made out of bricks. By the time they arrived, David's arms felt like noodles.

  They took a path around the back of the building where there was a loading elevator that was part of a larger loading dock. Once they got the cart on the elevator, they moved down several levels until they reached a dark hallway that was dimly lit by gaslight. It reminded David of his laboratory back in Urbana. They pushed the cart down the corridor, taking several turns until they arrived in a large, wide open room, filled with metal racks, gears and pulleys, and parts of what David immediately recognized as his Engine.

  "Over against the wall," shouted Waterhouse from across the room. He was hunched over a bench, working on something. He didn't bother turning around.

  David started shaking. He so very badly wanted to say something, but any action on his part would blow his cover. He wanted to tell the professor that he was going to be ok. That he'd be back with reinforcements to get him out. ...But what if the professor saw him? Could Waterhouse disguise his reaction?

  David need not have worried. The professor never turned around. As he and his partner hurried out of the building and back to the warehouse, he realized why the foreman had selected him. An idiot who was deaf and dumb could tell no one of the things that he'd seen.

  "That's the prison," said Lara, clearly disappointed.

  "So? You said all you needed was his location. You said that getting him out would be no problem."

  "If he's where you described, it's not just a matter of sneaking into an office building over night. The prison is heavily guarded. Did you see soldiers?"

  "A few," admitted David.

  "If I had a team of trained soldiers, I might be able to do it, but not by myself."

  "What the hell? A prison is the first place they'd keep him."

  "Maybe," she said slowly. "That's if you assume he's actually his prisoner."

  "What the hell are you talking about?"

  "Have you ever considered that he might have gone with them willingly?"

 
"That's crazy!"

  "Maybe. Did he seem like a prisoner to you?"

  David thought about this. He didn't seem like a prisoner at all. He was obviously working on putting the Engine together, and the container they'd brought him must have contained parts that he needed. Why would he work with the Spanish?

  "No, but maybe they threatened him."

  "Maybe."

  "What evidence do you have?"

  "None. Just something to think about."

  "Besides, they have him in the prison. That suggests that he's actually a prisoner."

  "A prison is great for keeping people in," said Lara, "but it's also very effective at keeping people out. People like us."

  "This is ridiculous," said David, though he was beginning to have doubts. "Right before he left, he told me that he wanted to contribute to the war effort in any way he could. He hates the Emperor and all that he stands for."

  "Listen," she said gently. "You might be right. Either way, we'll have to get him out of there."

  "Which you're now saying is impossible."

  "No, not impossible. I think we can get him out, but it's going to take more than just you and me."

  She told him her plan.

  They snuck away from their shack in the middle of the night. The jolly boat was right where they'd left it, and they took off unmolested by the Spanish batteries. Their return trip took two days, and the Calista was right where they had agreed. Lara was quite good at navigation, something she hadn't revealed earlier when all of them were on the Dakota. It was probably something she had picked up during her time in intelligence.

  Harriet was disappointed to see that Waterhouse was not with them, but brightened a bit when she learned about the defense situation at the port.

  "Those batteries are going to be difficult to deal with," said Harriet. "If there were only one, I'd be a bit more optimistic, but with two, we would take a serious pounding."

  "That's true, but I think we would have more success if we coordinated an attack by air with one by land," said Lara. "We send two parties of marines in by David's jolly boat. We'd have to make a much larger one, but I think if we welded several food containers together, we could get about twenty soldiers into it."

  "That's tight," said David

  "Especially for two days," said Lieutenant Morris. Prescott Morris was the marine lieutenant, and as such, commanded the squadron of about 24 marines aboard the Calista. He was a solid man, though not particularly imaginative. Lara worried the most about his opinion, for if he was reluctant, he might sway the captain.

  "It'll be tight, but I definitely can construct the vehicle," said David.

  "And my men can do definitely do it," said Morris quickly. "It'll be cramped is all."

  "Once they've landed, one party of marines would take the sloop, La Negra. It's not guarded, so the men really just have to slip aboard, neutralize the few sailors who are working on it, fire up the engine, and then head off. Once that ship is in play, it can assist the Calista in an attack. The marines will have to work the ship. It'll be a skeleton crew, but it should be enough to get her going."

  "What about the other party?" asked Morris.

  "That party will take out one of the batteries. Again, the battery is manned by probably two or three soldiers. As long as the marines have the advantage of surprise, they should be able to take out the men there, and control the battery. It's critical that this part happens first. If this part fails, both the Negra and Calista will be sitting ducks.

  "Once the last battery is destroyed, the base will essentially be defenseless. There are marines on the base, but they won't be able to stand against two ships and a battery. We demand surrender and take Waterhouse as part of the terms."

  Lara sat silent as everyone digested the plan.

  "That's an awful lot of bloodshed to get one man," observed Harriet drily.

  "It's the only option."

  "I've got a suggestion," said David. The others looked at him expectantly.

  He cleared his throat. "Once under attack, there's nothing to keep the Spanish from killing Waterhouse to keep us from rescuing him. I propose that we send a third party to try to infiltrate the prison during the attack. I imagine that the chaos and surprise of the attack will draw soldiers away from the prison. If that happens, I can slip-in unnoticed."

  He saw a few raised eyebrows at the mention of his involvement.

  "Remember, I'm still the only one besides Waterhouse who is qualified to sabotage the machine. I absolutely need to be there. I've been seen around the base, so my presence at the prison won't raise any eye-brows. In fact, I can pretend to be delivering something from one of the warehouses to Waterhouse."

  Lara shook her head, "I don't like it. No offense, David, but you're not exactly trained in infiltrating high security prisons. We don't know that the soldiers will be drawn out. In fact, they may see an attack for what it is: a rescue attempt. If so, they might double the prison guard."

  "That doesn't change the fact that I can slip in," said David. "They'll be expecting force, not an idiot carrying a package to deliver for the professor."

  "I like David's plan," said Harriet. "If it fails, we haven't really lost much. We can still demand Waterhouse if we succeed in getting the Spanish to surrender."

  David swallowed. Failure meant his death.

  "I don't think that David should go alone though," continued Harriet. "Given that Lara is also a credible worker, she should accompany him in case things go wrong."

  "Captain," said Morris. "Don't you think Suarez would better serve as leader for one of the attack teams? We'll need an expert hand at either stealing away the sloop or taking out the battery."

  Lara held her breath. She wanted to get to Waterhouse before he was officially taken. She was going to suggest it as an amendment to her plan, but luckily, David had thought up the same thing. Waterhouse would have to be eliminated.

  "In many ways," said Harriet, "getting Waterhouse is the most important part of the mission. I will lead the attack on the sloop. Morris, you will lead the attack on the battery. Harris will be in charge of the Calista in my absence. Unfortunately, we are low on officers, but we must make do with what we have."

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  In the end, David and his engine crew constructed an enormous jolly boat that could hold up to thirty hands.

  There was absolutely nothing easy about this part of the plan. A jolly boat of that size could easily be sighted, meaning that the chance of getting blown out of the sky was high. It was also a difficult two day's voyage. The boat was crammed with sailors and marines, sleeping elbow to elbow with absolutely no personal space. The men put a good face on it, cracking jokes about the tightness of the space, and the intimacy with which they got to know their neighbor, but everyone was happy to be out when they landed.

  And then there was the forced silence.

  The two attack forces camped silently on the outskirts of town. All talking was prohibited. They'd arrived a day before the Calista to get the lay of the land. The attacks were to take place at 2am the day after they arrived.

  The waiting was the worse part for David. He turned over what he would do hundreds of times in his mind, replaying each step, thinking over every possible contingency. The worst part was that he couldn't talk through things with Lara because of the enforced silence. They'd rehearsed what they would do a hundred times, and he didn't think it would help to talk it out more, but he knew that it would make him feel better.

  The group was positioned in the white sandy dunes of the moon on the outskirts of the town. Movement was discouraged. When not moving, they laid on their stomachs, keeping their heads low.

  It was a long night.

  Harriet and her men walked slowly through the alley towards the dock. She could see the ship in the distance. It was early morning and the streets were silent. The familiar night time noises of insects chirping were absent from this off-world moon base. There was no life here other than human life. I
t gave the base an other worldly feel. The silence was deafening.

  They walked easily out of the alley into the street, their rifles and swords hidden beneath their cloaks, their clothing that of enlisted sailors on leave. They looked like any group of sailors out on the town who were coming in from a late evening. They walked calmly, but not too quickly. Two of her men held bottles of rum, and had their arms around each other.

  As they entered the docks they saw a few other sailors, obviously returning to quarters after a night of carousing, men who were dirty, loud, and mostly drunk. A few made comments to Harriet. There were far fewer women in the Spanish navy and her black skin might have given her away if she had not kept the hood of her cloak well over her face.

  Most of these men were sailors waiting for a ship. Only La Negra was in port, so these stragglers coming in late in the night must have been her crew. Harriet was not impressed. La Negra was floating at a loading dock, the sole ship in the harbor. Dozens of other docks stood empty in the night. It was eerie to see so many berths without ships.

  La Negra was a sloop, a small ship about half the size of the Calista. It looked as though she had about twenty guns. Her loading dock was empty, so either she was outfitted and ready to leave at a moment's notice, or she was going to be under repair for several months. This was one of the weak links in the plan. They didn't really know what state La Negra would be in when they boarded her, and there was no contingency plan if she were not actually fit to fly. They were mostly going on Lara's information that she had been in dock for a while already. She had probably been outfitted to patrol around the space in New Madrid, or possibly to engage in fire fights in Austin. Whatever her ultimate fate was supposed to be, Harriet was going to make sure that it didn't happen.

  They climbed the ladder lazily. The crew would most likely be staying in the barracks, given the small size of the sloop, so she was hoping, praying in fact, that there wouldn't be anyone aboard. When they reached the top of loading deck, there was no one there. Harriet was a little surprised that the Spanish would leave the ship completely unguarded, but then again, none of the towns people would dare go on base, and there were no Americans within a million miles as far as the Spanish knew.