Breath of Earth

by Beth Cato

  “Is there no one else from the auxiliary, sir?” Ingrid asked.

  “Not yet. Soon, I hope. We have other matters to address now.” Captain Sutcliff clasped his hands at his back. “Our business is urgent. I was traveling with my men on our way to the Cordilleran Auxiliary when we heard the explosion and witnessed the plume of dust. I am glad that you’re well, Mr. Sakaguchi, and I extend the wishes of the United States and Japan that your recovery is uncomplicated.”

  Pretty words, no sincerity. Ingrid rubbed the gritty fabric of her skirt.

  Mr. Sakaguchi bowed his head, gracious as always. “Thank you, Captain.”

  “Now, this matter I address is of a sensitive nature.” He inclined his head.

  “My secretary is discreet. She’s accustomed to the ways of the auxiliary.”

  “I bet she knows all sorts of things, doesn’t she? Very generous of you to take on your housekeeper’s daughter.” Captain Sutcliff’s gaze raked over her. Ingrid clenched her jaw and stared back. She wouldn’t quail. “The Cordilleran Auxiliary owns a stake in the Rex Kermanite Mine in Boron, California, does it not? How closely do your people monitor operations? Actually.” He pivoted on a heel to face her. “Perhaps this is something your secretary would know.”

  Challenge accepted. “The auxiliary owns a thirty percent stake in the mine. The wardens don’t directly inspect the facilities, but our offices receive reports on a quarterly basis. I understand the Unified Pacific directly owns a third.”

  Captain Sutcliff’s nostrils flared like that of a winded horse. His long face was rather equine. “Yes, yes. And Augustinian owns the other third, though that company controls damn near everything in regard to weapons. At least they’re American. Did your recent report say anything unusual?”

  Mr. Sakaguchi cleared his throat, and not just to regain the captain’s attention. “Not that I heard, no, but I don’t personally inspect the quarterly reports, only the annual. Quarterly assessments go through our most senior wardens, Mr. Antonelli and Mr. Thornton.”

  “Well!” Another nostril flare. “Kermanite is, as you are well familiar, a fickle rock formation. By its very nature, it tends to shatter into small pieces.”

  Ingrid had read volumes on the structure and known uses of kermanite. The crystals always accompanied boron deposits, and those deposits were only currently known to be in the Ottoman Empire—in Turkey—and in the Southern California desert. The Roman Empire collapsed when their kermanite supplies were exhausted, crippling their mighty dirigible force and ushering in the Dark Ages. California’s rush to statehood was based solely on a rumor of kermanite; the discovery of gold was an added bonus.

  Most pieces of the crystal were finger-sized—enough to supplement a steam-powered autocar—or smaller. Larger chunks were used for airships, naval vessels, and ambulatory tanks like Durendals. Its cost—well, there was a reason Warden Antonelli resided on Nob Hill. Wardens were paid in kermanite and set their own rates from there.

  “Get to the point, please, Captain Sutcliff,” said Mr. Sakaguchi.

  “An unusual specimen of kermanite was recovered recently, one as large as a horse. I don’t simply mean the body. I mean a standing horse, from hooves to withers.” He seemed pleased at their shocked gasps.

  “How much does it weigh?” Mr. Sakaguchi leaned forward. “I’ve seen pieces about the size of a leg, but to be that wide and tall . . . ! How was it recovered?”

  “The effort took weeks. It required multiple winches to pull it out, and a twenty-mule team to move it to the fort—”

  “My God.” Mr. Sakaguchi sounded like a delighted schoolboy. “Even if it took months for us to fill, to work with kermanite like that, I . . .” His eyes shone.

  It might take months for the wardens to fill, but Ingrid could do it much faster, especially if she had her hands on it during a significant earthquake.

  Not like she’d ever be allowed near kermanite as priceless as that, not unless the wardens needed more coffee or tea.

  Captain Sutcliff’s tanned skin turned ruddy. “Yes. Well. But.” He looked toward the window, unable to mask his scowl. “It was stolen.”

  “Stolen, sir?” Ingrid gaped. “How does someone steal something that big and heavy?”

  The captain’s icy gaze gouged her. “The matter is being fully investigated, which is the very purpose of my visit. Your auxiliary is the largest on the continent. The expertise of your wardens—”

  “You are not suggesting that we had anything to do with this theft.” Mr. Sakaguchi made it a statement, not a question.

  “What we know suggests that it is coming northward. You must agree that your auxiliary has the manpower to fill such a crystal, and a geographical advantage.”

  “A stone of that size, it would make more sense to bring geomancers to it, not bring the kermanite to the city.”

  “Maybe, maybe not. This is a major port for sea and air. Your membership here is rather, shall we say, eclectic, and has strong connections abroad. Of your wardens, only Mr. Antonelli is American-born, and he’s first generation.”

  “Geomancy in America has only been encouraged for forty years, so of course the older men are from elsewhere,” said Ingrid.

  Captain Sutcliff showed no reaction to her words. “National loyalties can shift when power and money are involved, or due to personal vendettas.” Something in his voice caused Ingrid to shiver violently. It was as though he had already come to a dreadful conclusion.

  Mr. Sakaguchi went very still. “I was born in Japan and trained in Europe, but I have resided in the United States these past thirty years. I would not live elsewhere. So yes, my loyalties have shifted. To America, Captain Sutcliff.”

  That seemed to take the officer aback. “I see.” The men stared at each other for a long minute. “Have you been to China, Warden Sakaguchi?”

  “I have not.”

  “I have done five tours to China, two to the Philippines. I will not go into details, due to the sensibilities of present company”—Ingrid emitted a soft snort—“but it’s an ugly war. You’re well aware of what can be done with kermanite big enough to power an airship.” He motioned the size with his hands and forearms. “What could our enemies do with kermanite the size of a horse?”

  Mr. Sakaguchi waved away the implication. “Very little, under current circumstances. When the war began over twenty years ago, China hosted some five hundred million people, scores of geomancers, and thriving industrialization. Now there are what—maybe a few hundred thousand survivors, scattered across the terrain?”

  “God willing, fewer than that,” said Captain Sutcliff.

  “Chinatown here has the largest portion in the States,” Ingrid murmured. Its eradication would come soon enough. Everyone said as much, even Lee, though he never lingered on the topic.

  “There are more chankoro—pardon my language,” Captain Sutcliff added with an apologetic dip of his head as Ingrid openly scowled at the foul epithet. “There are said to be more Chinese residing on the West Coast of America and Canada now than in their old land.”

  Mr. Sakaguchi inclined his head. “They have a presence, yes, but they have neither industry nor geomancers. To utilize kermanite like that would require more manpower, more factories, than can be hidden away like some opium den deep in Chinatown. You would need all the factories of Atlanta working in concert to create something to use such a crystal. That minimizes the threat of this theft.”

  “Yet we are prevented from using it as well,” said Captain Sutcliff.

  “True.”

  “You say you’re loyal to America now, Warden Sakaguchi. Prove it. This kermanite may well be the key to ending the war and saving countless American lives. Help me toward this goal.”

  Mr. Sakaguchi looked sidelong at Ingrid. “I’m not sure what you’re trying to imply or ask of me, Captain Sutcliff.”

  “Then I’ll be blunt. I grant you this one opportunity to tell me what you know, and I will speak well of your cooperation. Otherwise . . .”r />
  “I had not heard of this piece of kermanite before our conversation. That is the truth.”

  Ingrid looked between the men, brow furrowed.

  Captain Sutcliff sighed. “So you say. Maybe in twenty years you’ll tell a different tale, hmm?” He shook his head, and Ingrid wondered what on earth the man was talking about. “I had hoped, as a Japanese man, you’d be more reasonable. Not like the Chinese. They’re incapable of reason.”

  “Are they really?” A rare flush of anger colored Mr. Sakaguchi’s cheeks. “The Thuggees fight the British. The Chinese fight us. If the denizens of the crowded isles of Japan decided to settle America by force, would you behave reasonably? Should any people simply consent to their own demise?”

  Ingrid sucked in a breath. Mr. Sakaguchi’s sentiments were nothing new to her, but dear God, why was he saying such things to an officer of the Unified Pacific? Did he want to be arrested for sedition?

  Captain Sutcliff stared, his face unreadable.

  Mr. Sakaguchi stood. “I believe we’re done for now, Captain. My secretary and I have already dealt with a terrible trauma today. I must attend my colleagues at the hospital.”

  “Attending your colleagues will be rather difficult, Mr. Sakaguchi, as you’re the only people from the auxiliary we have recovered alive.”

  Ingrid had never seen Mr. Sakaguchi turn so pale. In two strides she was at his side, supporting him by an arm. His lips quivered and parted as if to speak, but no sound emerged.

  “No one else?” she asked.

  Some of Sutcliff’s haughtiness faded. “If anyone had been found alive, news would have been brought here straightaway.”

  All of them dead? Surely not. Someone else had to survive. The wardens—and the children, the adepts.

  “What about the staff?” she managed to croak out. She had seen some of their faces most every day of her life.

  “The building was torn asunder, Miss Carmichael. The damage—the bodies will be difficult to identify, and there were casualties within the flanking buildings and in the street as well.”

  “We had a hundred people in the building.” Mr. Sakaguchi’s voice was scarcely audible.

  She and Ojisan rocked together, mute in their grief for a long moment. No wonder so many small earthquakes had been occurring.

  Ingrid sucked in a sharp breath. “But there’s still—” Mr. Sakaguchi’s sudden grip on her arm silenced her, but she was buoyed by the thought that Mr. Calhoun and Mr. Thornton were alive. Their illnesses had spared them.

  “The mayor’s office wishes to speak to you when you’re well,” said Captain Sutcliff. “A report must be issued on the welfare of the city.”

  Mr. Sakaguchi’s lips thinned at the allusion to Mayor Butterfield, but he nodded.

  “It’s been a strangely active year for tremblers, hasn’t it?” asked Captain Sutcliff. “The terrible waves that struck South America, the tremor in St. Lucia, and of course, there’s Vesuvius.”

  “And Peking twice over,” Ingrid murmured.

  Captain Sutcliff dismissed the mention with a flick of his hand. “Proof of God’s favor. Even the Chinese believe they have lost their ‘Mandate of Heaven.’ Those quakes saved a million American bullets and bombs. When was the last major earthquake in San Francisco? Eighteen-seventy? The city should get along just fine, then.”

  “Eighteen sixty-eight, but—” began Ingrid. Mr. Sakaguchi shot her a look that stopped her before she could tell Captain Sutcliff that there hadn’t been a major event in the city because of the presence of the auxiliary.

  “I must attend to my duties at home,” said Mr. Sakaguchi. “I must . . . I must reach out to other auxiliaries for assistance. This cannot wait.”

  How long would it take for more geomancers to arrive? Ingrid gnawed on her lower lip. Was Sutcliff even going to let them go, after what Mr. Sakaguchi said?

  Captain Sutcliff squinted at them. “You are the only warden accounted for at this time, so yes. Attend your business, but don’t leave the city—of course, you’re already aware of that.” He gave Mr. Sakaguchi a pointed look. “I’ll speak to you again soon.” Speak, meaning an arrest would likely come once bureaucratic obstacles were surmounted and other geomancers arrived.

  “Here’s my calling card.” With a deft flick of his wrist, Captain Sutcliff pulled out the card and extended it toward Mr. Sakaguchi. Ingrid plucked it from his fingertips, and the captain’s eyes widened in surprise.

  “I am his secretary,” she said. Mr. Sakaguchi proceeded through the foyer to the entrance.

  “Is that all you are, ma’am?”

  Ingrid took in a deep breath to quell her annoyance. Captain Sutcliff wasn’t the first to insinuate such—no, according to gossip, she had to be either a lover or a charity case, or both.

  “Captain Sutcliff, you’re here to investigate, so let me make your job a little easier. I’ve lived in Mr. Sakaguchi’s household since I was barely school age. My mother was his cook and head housekeeper, and cooked at the auxiliary as well. Mr. Sakaguchi’s the closest thing I’ve known to a father.”

  When Ingrid had scraped her knee as a child, Mama ordered her to stop crying and move along; Mr. Sakaguchi was the one who kissed his fingers then pressed them to her knee, and made the pain go away faster than any Reiki. In the evenings, when Mama headed to bed early, he used to prop Ingrid up on his lap and read to her his favorite tales of the geomantic Hidden Ones. He was the one who, on her birthday mornings, always left a small tin of her very favorite Ghirardelli chocolates on her nightstand.

  “I see.” Captain Sutcliff didn’t believe her. Pompous twit.

  She stepped toward the door, then hesitated. She didn’t like this man, but something still needed to be said. “And thank you, Captain. You and your men. Thank you for pulling us out.”

  “It was quite lucky you both survived.” He said it as if there was more than luck involved. “We fetched shoes for both of you. One of my men can summon a cab—”

  “No, thank you,” she said. She would accept nothing more from this man. “We usually walk. We can manage on our own.” Ingrid shot him a glare and turned, her indecently loosened hair lashing against her cheeks.

  She shoved her feet into the supplied footwear—men’s boots, surprisingly correct in size. She bounced down the steps, but the stiffness in her back slowed her down as she rejoined Mr. Sakaguchi. He looked so odd standing there, his fine suit shredded and filthy, borrowed shoes on his feet, no hat on his head.

  Emotion burned in her throat. The auxiliary was gone. The wardens, gone. Everything changed today. Everything.

  “I told him we were walking,” she said.

  “Are you well enough for the trek?” He stared at the ground as he spoke.

  “Yes.”

  He nodded and started along Battery toward home. She followed.

  The din on the street was more pronounced than usual. Stalled traffic around the block had created a tangle of trucks and wagons; walking had been the faster choice by far. Horns blared and harnesses jingled, sounds echoing against the tall buildings that lined the avenue. Overhead, a dirigible purred like a happy cat.

  Ingrid and Mr. Sakaguchi limped along the crowded sidewalk. People stared at them, wide-eyed. Ingrid self-consciously shook more dust from her skirt.

  “Captain Sutcliff wonders at the timing of all of this.” When Mr. Sakaguchi spoke, it was in a monotone. “I wonder as well. For such an unusual crystal to be stolen, then the explosion . . . it couldn’t have been an accident. I hope that the captain will have success in his investigation, though I fear his fixation on me will distract him. He’s an even worse guest than I feared.”

  His wording sent a jolt through her. “Guest. He—you knew he was coming?” The events just before the explosion suddenly flared in her memory. “A messenger came. You were sent—” She stopped herself and glanced around.

  Mr. Roosevelt—or someone—had sent Mr. Sakaguchi a warning that investigators were on the way. Good grief! She had c
heered up Mr. Sakaguchi with kitsune-ken, even as he knew soldiers were on the way to confront him. A different man would have fled. Instead, he playacted the part of a fantastic fox spirit and laughed himself to tears.

  “Why did they suspect you from the start? Why make yourself sound more guilty and talk of China that way? That’s all the man needed. He’ll make the evidence fit. It might be harder to arrest you because you’re Japanese, but—”

  “I didn’t tell him anything he did not already know.”

  “It’s different to think it than to say it. It’s almost like you want to be arrested.”

  “Maybe that would be safer,” he said softly.

  Perhaps debris had struck his head. He wasn’t making sense. “What about Mr. Thornton and Mr. Calhoun? He’s going to find out they’re alive.”

  “Consider how he treated us, newly recovered from the wreckage. How would he interrogate them, addled by fever?” Mr. Sakaguchi shook his head in disgust. “No. I will call them. We need to meet, regardless of their illness. I . . . I should break the news.” A tremor shook through Mr. Sakaguchi.

  “What about the risk to the city?” she asked in a low voice. “You know very well that the protocol says that San Francisco requires at least three wardens and thirty students present at all times to ensure that the city doesn’t feel any tremors, and we’ve always had far more than that. There’ve been several seisms in the past hour alone.”

  “A crisis can be averted,” he whispered. Mr. Sakaguchi, always hopeful, even against terrible odds.

  Ingrid shook her head in frustration. “If Mr. Thornton and Mr. Calhoun are ill and not in contact with the earth, it’s just us. How long can we hold back a major earthquake? How . . . how are we supposed to survive it?”

  Mr. Sakaguchi bowed his head and said nothing the rest of the walk home.

  CHAPTER 3

  After a quick bath and a change of clothes, Ingrid could almost pretend the events of the morning hadn’t happened. Never mind that she and Mr. Sakaguchi were home far too early in the day, or that she had somehow kept both of them alive while everyone else died.