by Marty Chan
Wilhelm raised an eyebrow. “We have ourselves a high-falutin’ Bohemian in our midst.”
“We are better than this, young man. You can set an example for others.”
“Do you see what he did to my hunters?” Wilhelm shot back.
“Easy there, young fella,” a new voice said. “You poke the bear, sometimes it swats back.”
A thin gentleman with a charismatic smile and intense gaze approached the group, flanked by Margaret and two squads of hunters. Thomas Edison had arrived. He wore a top hat, a frumpy tweed suit, and an opened Norfolk jacket that hung down to his thighs. A piece of flexible tubing extended from his ear to the hatband, where a gramophone horn stared out like a cyclops’ eye.
“For heaven’s sake, put the gun away,” Edison said.
Wilhelm snapped to attention. “Sir, this one has papers, but we think they are forged. He might own up to knowing something about the attack on Devil’s Island. He might have information about where Ehrich Weisz is hiding.”
“Then we will interrogate him. Not torture. Interrogate.” The commissioner then addressed the remaining gawkers. “My hunters have been overzealous in their hunt for an individual. I assure you, I will remedy this, but we cannot abide all of you on the street.”
Wilhelm waved at Divesh. “Sir, what about the prisoner? I don’t think he’s going to cooperate.”
Edison glanced at the man seated on the ground. “To paraphrase Victor Hugo, ‘If you speak, you are condemned. If you stay silent, you are damned.’”
“Then I’ll be damned,” Divesh said.
“We have better means of interrogation on Devil’s Island. I suspect the quality of our conversation may improve under more favourable circumstances.”
The squad members hauled Divesh away. He resisted every step of the way, but the hunters outnumbered and overwhelmed him.
Edison turned to the crowd, reaching into his jacket and pulling out a large rolled piece of paper. He unfurled it before everyone, revealing a sketch of a curly-haired teen with an anchor nose. “We are searching for this young man. If you come forward with any information, there is a reward. If you have information and fail to come forward, then I wouldn’t want to be you.”
He handed the poster to a hunter, who affixed it to a nearby brick wall.
“Now unless you want to join the big fellow on Devil’s Island, I suggest you all go home and give some thought to the whereabouts of the fugitive.”
This was enough to send the bystanders on their way.
Back in the tenement, the bald man knocked on the closed door at the back of the closet.
“It’s safe,” he announced. “Amina. Ning Shu. You can come out.”
The old man took off his spectacles and rubbed his eyes. An ebony girl with a purple corset over a linen shirt emerged from the other room. Her skirt was cut up both sides of her legs to reveal thigh-high boots. Behind her followed a red-skinned woman wearing a wide-sleeved emerald robe that hid her hands.
The old man ripped off his disguise.
The bald man said. “The hunters will come back soon enough.”
“We’ll need to find another haven,” Ning Shu declared.
“You’re right.” The bald man massaged his scalp. “Anyone have any ideas? Amina?”
The ebony girl stroked her chin. “Are you sure we need to move? We’re running out of places to hide.”
“I heard the hunters,” the bald man said. “They aren’t going to stop until they find Ehrich Weisz.”
The old man scrubbed the spirit gum off the sides of his anchor nose. Without the disguise, the old man now appeared much younger with his mass of bushy brown hair and fresh face. He surveyed his companions with his intense brown-eyed gaze. “Then I suppose I had better not be where they are searching.”
OUT ON THE STREET
Ehrich packed his disguise into a black satchel, careful to avoid tangling the hairpiece. Beside him, the bald man scratched at his scalp.
“I miss my monk’s fringe,” he said.
“You look handsome without hair, Mr. Serenity,” Amina said. “Sometimes you’re better off to let go of something that’s already on the way out.”
He smirked. “Perhaps we’ll take the shears to your locks next time.”
The ebony girl grabbed her dark hair, mocking her friend. “I’ll let you wear some of mine when it’s all over. I have plenty to spare.”
Ehrich rubbed at his nose.
“You missed some,” Ning Shu said, helping the teen rub the sticky paste from his face.
“This would be a lot easier if we still had Amina’s device,” Ning Shu said.
“If Ehrich’s friend returns with my cameo, I’d be happy to use it to hide us all from the hunters,” Amina said.
“When Mr. Tesla returns,” Ehrich said. “Not if.”
“Do you think Divesh will talk?” Ning Shu asked. She nervously fingered the jade tael pendant around her neck with her red finger.
Mr. Serenity scratched his head. “He knows what is at stake, but they aren’t going to take it easy on him.”
“We should have killed Wilhelm when we had the chance,” Ehrich said.
“No, son, too risky. Demon Watch would have turned the tenements upside down.”
Ning Shu rolled up the wide sleeves of her green robe. “Mr. Serenity, how can you be sure that’s not what the hunters are going to do? They’re probably waiting for reinforcements. We should leave now.”
“We’re running out of places to hide,” Mr. Serenity said. “The hunters shut down almost all of our access points to Purgatory, and we can’t risk exposing the few that are left.”
“Purgatory is the safest place for us,” Amina said. “They would not think to search for us underground.”
Ning Shu shook her head. “If we go below, we’ll be safe, but we won’t find my father’s soldiers. We must contact them, and the only way to do that is to stay in the city.”
Ehrich leaned against the jamb of the door. “We have combed the streets for months with no luck. I think they left New York.”
“We’ll search harder,” Ning Shu said. “We can’t give up.”
Ehrich fell silent, thinking how far he was from his idyllic childhood of Appleton, Wisconsin. Only three years ago, he played at being a world famous acrobat for his family’s entertainment, in a dimension that bore a passing resemblance to this one; except, in his own world, he didn’t need to worry about portals that opened to other worlds or invaders from those dimensions. All he had to worry about was how to keep his brother Dash and himself out of trouble. But misery seemed to follow the Weisz family like a bad penny. An inter-dimensional assassin, Kifo, had taken control of Dash’s body. Ehrich pursued the possessed boy and found himself caught in this other world.
Two years of searching had led to much frustration. His only clue was the Infinity Coil, which seemed to be only a trinket until he met Amina and learned the device’s true purpose. With Mr. Serenity’s help, he had learned the Infinity Coil stored souls—including Dash’s—and only Kifo could release those trapped within. Teaming up with Amina and Mr. Serenity, Ehrich searched for the assassin and learned he was working with Ba Tian, the warlord who was mounting an invasion of this dimension and who was also Ning Shu’s father. George Farrier, the former commissioner of Demon Watch, had betrayed his own people when he allowed Ba Tian and Kifo to sneak onto his facilities and gain access to the portal that opened to multiple dimensions. Ehrich and his companions stopped the invasion, but not without paying a price. Kifo regained control of the Infinity Coil and abandoned Dash’s body, leaving a blank shell behind. Now Ehrich needed the assassin to restore his brother’s consciousness to his body, which now rested in suspended animation in a glass sarcophagus in Mr. Serenity’s underground hideout.
“We don’t know how much longer we have before my father finds a way back into this dimension,” Ning Shu said.
Amina pointed out, “We stranded him in my sector without any devices to open
portals. If he’s going to come back, it won’t be any time soon.”
“He’s not without allies,” Ning Shu pointed out.
Mr. Serenity agreed. “True. If any of his generals learn of his fate, they will try to rescue him.”
“We can’t afford to waste any more time. We have to find my father’s soldiers and make sure he never returns to this sector.”
Though she was connected to the warlord by blood, Ning Shu had secretly rebelled against him, spiriting away Hakeem, the scientist who designed his exoskeleton soldier army under the Hudson River. As much as Ehrich needed to catch Kifo to find a way to restore his brother, Ning Shu wanted to slay Kifo. He had assassinated Hakeem, the man who was the rebels’ only hope and the man who had held her heart.
“Ning Shu, what if the reason we can’t find the soldiers is because he’s already back?” Ehrich asked.
A tense silence fell over the group.
Amina patted Ning Shu on the shoulder, “I’m sure we would know if your father had returned. We’ll leave in the morning. We’ll raise more suspicion if we leave in the dead of night.”
“Amina’s right,” Mr. Serenity added. “We go now, everyone in the tenement will wonder why. They’ll remember us. I don’t have enough money for another set of disguises.”
“Ehrich could work the Three-Card Monte,” Ning Shu suggested. “Earn enough money to pay for another room somewhere.”
“Yes, but the problem is where to hide you in the meantime. You stand out in the crowd, Ning Shu,” he said.
“Ehrich, I know you want to find Kifo.” Ning Shu fixed her eyes on him intently. “My father’s generals will be able to help us locate him.”
She knew how to press his buttons. Though Ehrich had a passing interest in helping the rebels, they were only a means to an end. He needed to find Kifo and the Infinity Coil to save his brother.
“Yes, Ning Shu,” he said. “I know they are our key to finding Kifo. But we have to locate them first.”
“What if the generals are hiding under the Hudson River?” Amina asked. “What if they’re trapped there with exoskeleton machines and are waiting for Edison to reopen the Tunnel Project?”
Ehrich disagreed. “No, when I was down there, I only saw a handful of technicians building the exoskeleton machines. Not enough to be an army. I think they were shut out with all the workers when Edison shut down the operations of the tunnel. Besides, if they had access to the machines, I think we’d know by now.”
Ning Shu gripped her jade tael pendant in her fist. “We need to sneak into the tunnel and see for ourselves. At the very least, it will get us out of this tenement and away from the prying eyes of hunters and nosy neighbours.”
The others relented. Her plan was foolhardy because of the sentries posted at the entrance, but staying put was worse. Ehrich sensed the truth in Ning Shu’s fears. The hunters wouldn’t walk away. They would come back, and Ehrich couldn’t afford to be here when they returned. He pulled out a brown pork-pie hat and an eye patch from a satchel. Amina reached into the same leather bag and retrieved a veil to toss to Ning Shu. Mr. Serenity reversed his jacket. The motley crew’s disguises would not hold up against close inspection, but the night would provide some cover.
To avoid attracting any attention, the group left the tenement one after the other. Ehrich slipped into the shadows and edged his way down the street until he was a few blocks away. He stopped under the elevated railway line on Sixth Avenue and waited for the others. The crowds had thinned out by now in the dead of night. There weren’t even any hunter patrols.
He spotted a fresh wanted poster pasted on the iron support of the elevated train tracks. A reward was offered for any information leading to the capture of Ehrich Weisz. He ripped down the poster. Then he walked to the next support to tear down other posters.
A few minutes later, Mr. Serenity reeled toward him, posing as a drunken man. Ehrich waved him over. “They’ve put up my posters in the area. Now everyone’s on the hunt for me.”
Mr. Serenity tapped Ehrich’s eye patch. “As long as you don’t match the sketch, you’ll be fine.”
Ehrich scanned the streets. No one was around, but he couldn’t relax. He pulled the hat over his eyes and angled his face toward the pillar.
Amina and Ning Shu arrived shortly after. They scurried to the muster point like two workers heading home from a late-night shift. The four then travelled west, staying to the shadows to avoid being spotted by any curious apartment dwellers. Though the windows were dark, Ehrich felt a thousand eyes boring into his back from every opening.
As they neared Morton Street, apartments gave way to warehouses and shops. The colourful awnings had been furled up, but the chalky remnants of the daily specials still clung to the boards affixed to the brick sides. The area had shut down for the night, but the life teeming on the cobblestone streets suggested otherwise. Dimensionals huddled against the walls. Some slept. Others were awake. Some were ebony skinned like Amina; others looked like Ehrich. One woman had two sets of arms: one set she wrapped around her body and the other set she used as a makeshift pillow.
“I knew many Dimensionals came here during the day, but I didn’t expect them to stay through the night,” Amina said.
Mr. Serenity whispered, “Where else are they going to stay? Edison shut down the tunnel months ago.”
“Stay here.” Ehrich broke away from the group and headed to three Dimensionals around a small fire at the end of the street.
He kept his head low as he approached the trio. They slid to one side to allow him to join them. He rubbed his hands by the fire.
“Rough night,” he said. “Any word on the tunnel?”
A green-skinned titan of a man with piercings across his bottom lip shook his head. “Nothing but rumours, but if they pan out, I want to be here. Only so many job openings, and now there are more travellers seeking work. Can’t afford to miss out.”
A tiny man with tentacles for fingers agreed. “The humans aren’t going to care who worked here before. Going to be first to come, first to work.”
The conversation faded out, and Ehrich sidled to a group of former tunnel workers further down the street, closer to the gate. They didn’t feel like talking, so he strolled to another group of men. He noticed an odd lack of female travellers among the groups huddled along the Hudson River.
A cold breeze blew in from the river. Two green-skinned men stamped their feet and blew into their hands. One traveller had studded piercings all over his face while the other’s face was marked with magenta tattoo swirls.
Ehrich glanced at the half-dozen sentries manning the gated entrance. “I don’t suppose we could rush them.”
The men laughed. “Getting in would be no problem,” the one with piercings said. “Getting paid, on the other hand…”
“You think they’ll ever open the project up?” Ehrich asked.
No one offered an answer.
“Then they should let us go down and use the place as a shelter.”
“You’re not the first one to suggest that.”
“Who else?”
The man with the tattoos glanced over his shoulder then leaned toward Ehrich. “Some travellers are talking about taking over the tunnel. Using it as a protest site. Might rally people to our plight.”
“And get our heads bashed in,” Ehrich said.
“That’s my sentiment,” the one with the piercings said. “I told those rabble-rousers to peddle their foolishness somewhere else. Why is it always the crimson ones that stir up trouble?”
“In their blood,” the tattooed man said.
“Crimson? They were red skinned?” Ehrich asked. “Where do I find them?”
“You don’t. They find you. I was at Chumley’s when one of them just sat down and bought me a drink.”
“When did you see them last?”
“I don’t know. Maybe a couple of weeks or so.”
“Well, you let me know if you do see them. I wouldn’t mind getting a
free drink.”
The pierced one levelled a steady gaze at Ehrich. “You’d best steer clear of them. They’re nothing but trouble.”
Ehrich murmured thanks then walked back to his group. He deliberately walked slowly to hide his excitement. He’d had their first break in months, and he couldn’t wait to share it with the others.
THREE-CARD MONTE
Once a blacksmith shop, Chumley’s was now a makeshift gathering place for the travellers and anyone who did not want to be seen in the public eye. A few blocks from the Hudson River Tunnel Project, the two-storey brick tavern was nestled between taller shops on the narrow lane of Bedford Street. The inconspicuous doorway lacked a sign. If you didn’t know where Chumley’s was, you were not welcome inside.
Ehrich had raided the inn a few times when he was a hunter, and was well acquainted with the type of patrons who frequented the drinking establishment. Often, the raids yielded at least a dozen illegal travellers. Many of them were harmless, but every now and then they came across someone who bypassed the portal on Devil’s Island to enter New York. The fugitives tried to escape through the secret passageway under the inn that was once part of the underground railroad slaves had used and now was an escape route for Dimensionals. Ehrich often flushed out the Dimensionals, driving them to hunters at the other end, until the tavern owners boarded up the tunnel.
Ehrich and Amina slipped into the crowd of weary and inebriated travellers, searching the tavern for any red-skinned soldiers from Ba Tian’s army. They left Ning Shu and Mr. Serenity back at the Tunnel Project to gather more information about any other possible sightings of red-skinned rabble-rousers.
A barkeep in a filthy apron wiped the sweat from his brow as he carried a bucket of beer to fill the thirsty patrons’ cups. Amina elbowed her way to the counter and surveyed the depressed faces of the men and women who had left their worlds to find a better home, and who had realized this might not be it.
“I’d like a drink,” she ordered, but the bartender ignored her as he tended to the others at the bar.
