The Ehrich Weisz Chronicles

by Marty Chan

  Ehrich skidded to a stop as the ugly truth dawned on him. He retraced his steps and veered toward the Hudson River. He needed to find his friends. Fast.

  Suddenly, a heavy weight fell on his back. Pain erupted across his back as he fell forward, his pistol dropping out of his hand. He rolled to his feet and spun around to face Ole Lukoje, who plucked the shreds of Ehrich’s bloodied jacket from his claw.

  Ehrich fired. The electro-dart missed Ole Lukoje. The creature rolled across the road. He raised his metal claw to fire, but only puffs of air emitted from the ends of the fingertips. He was out of ammunition.

  Ehrich reached for his fallen pistol, but Ole Lukoje kicked it away. It clattered across the cobblestones far out of reach.

  The menacing creature advanced, flexing his metal claw. The gears whirred and powered the taut wires that operated the fingers. It was a deadly weapon. Ehrich crouched low, searching for some weakness in his adversary’s defences. They circled each other.

  The raggedy man lunged and slashed his talons at Ehrich’s stomach, trying to open him up. Ehrich leapt back and slammed against the brick wall of the three-storey building. He used the wall as leverage to push himself off and throw his body into his opponent, but the raggedy man was faster. He slipped out of the way, and Ehrich ate pavement. He rolled over on to his back, Edison’s hat flying off his head. Ole Lukoje towered over him.

  “I’m going to enjoy this-s-s,” the raggedy man said. “An eye for an eye. An arm for an arm.”

  He reached down and grabbed Ehrich’s wrist. The boy tried to pull away, but Ole Lukoje had a firm grip. Out of the corner of his eye, Ehrich spotted Edison’s top hat with the gramophone horn, just slightly beyond his grasp. Ole Lukoje yanked on his arm and stretched it out. He raised his metal claw and the fingers became fan blades, whirring in the air. He lowered the blades, flaying off a strip of flesh from Ehrich’s forearm, near the elbow.

  “No!” Ehrich howled, arching his back and angling his bloodied forearm away from the blades. He pushed against the man’s legs, reached out and grabbed the hat. He pressed the hatband, and white noise blasted out of the gramophone horn like a thousand locomotive wheels screeching to a stop.

  Ole Lukoje staggered back, clutching his ears. Sound hammered Ehrich’s eardrums, making him dizzy, but he gritted his teeth against the pain. He slammed his feet right between the creature’s legs, causing him to double over. Rising, he then brought his knee up to Ole Lukoje’s nose and bloodied it. The sickening crack of bone breaking filled the night. The creature hissed and fell back.

  The sound had woken up the residents and attracted nearby hunters. The blue glow of hunters’ lights approached. Ole Lukoje stumbled away. Ehrich split off in the opposite direction. He dove into a pile of garbage and hid until the hunters passed. Then he climbed out. Overhead, a clothesline offered a few drying shirts. He climbed up the trash pile and yanked down a couple. His own shirt had soaked up much of the blood and stuck to the wounds. He peeled the material off and sucked in air to fight off the pain.

  He ripped up one clean shirt to dress his wounds and slipped the other shirt on. He pulled the duster over everything and began the trek toward the Hudson River. One detour. He veered near the sanatorium to witness hunters combing the area. A hunter escorted Mrs. Sherman and Bess out of the building. Part of him wanted to call out to her, but he remained in the shadows. He slipped away, sure he’d never see Bess again.

  When he arrived at the Hudson River, dawn was breaking. Tesla and Amina awaited near the pier. They waved him over.

  “Did you find Ole Lukoje?”

  “He got away.”

  Tesla glanced over the river. “I still don’t understand the ruse. Why bother sending Ole Lukoje down here if they knew there was no way to capture Edison? We are back to the beginning in the search for Kifo.”

  Ehrich shook his head. “I know exactly where he is.”

  “Where?” Amina asked.

  “On the airship. Ning Shu has the seal of the House of Qi. She’s the only thing that stands between Kifo and complete control of Ba Tian’s army. Where else would he want to be?”

  The rays of the rising sun illuminated Amina’s face.

  “We need to get onboard that airship.”

  COUNCIL OF ARCH GENERALS

  Outside the porthole window, Ning Shu tried to peer through the false cloud to determine her bearings, but the mist was impenetrable. A few hours earlier, Ling Po had told her that the last general had arrived, and he would arrange the meeting. The Council of Arch Generals couldn’t begin soon enough for her.

  She stepped away from the window to join Mr. Serenity at Ling Po’s desk. He hunched over his calligraphy painting of the engine room.

  “Impressive memory, Mr. Serenity.”

  “Thank you, Ning Shu. The brief time I spent in the engine room proved to be quite illuminating.”

  She paced the room.

  “Are you ready to talk to the generals, Ning Shu?”

  “Hardly.”

  “Relax. You have allies on the council.”

  “Too much rests on my shoulders. How can I relax?”

  Mr. Serenity set down his brush. “My wife showed me this trick. Sit.”

  She obeyed. He cracked his knuckles and rubbed his hands together.

  “Are you trying to relax yourself or me?” she asked.

  “One minute.” He finished rubbing his hands, then placed two fingers on either side of her temples. Warmth spread across her forehead as he massaged the sides of her head from the temples to the top of her head.

  “Oh, this feels amazing,” she said. “Where did your wife learn this technique?”

  “I owned a small shop where I built clocks for the people in my village. Many people had a fascination with time, but piecing together the gears and stems took a toll on my body. Hunched over for hours and squinting at tiny pieces bent my body into a question mark. My wife, she developed a means to help me uncoil from my position. I was her living experiment. She eventually became so gifted that she took on the role of the village healer. People came for her treatments from three villages away. She accepted all patients…” His voice drifted off and he stopped rubbing her head.

  Ning Shu took his hands. “I will not fail your wife.”

  He squeezed her hands. “Thank you, Ning Shu.”

  Ling Po entered. “The Council of Arch Generals will now meet. Ning Shu, you must come.”

  She stood up, her shoulders relaxed and her mind clear. “I’m ready.”

  Mr. Serenity took a step toward Ling Po.

  “Not you,” Ling Po said. “Ning Shu, you recall the protocol of the Council of Arch Generals.”

  “The House of Qi demands an exception.”

  Ling Po shook his head. “I’m sorry, General Ning Shu, but you know as well as I do that the council will not allow this exception. His presence will undermine your case. He’s a liability.”

  Mr. Serenity agreed. “General Ling Po is right. We can’t afford to give Xian any ammunition against you. I’ll be all right here.”

  “I’ll leave my personal escorts with him,” Ling Po offered.

  Mr. Serenity shook his head. “Protect Ning Shu. She is Xian’s target.”

  “Don’t worry, sir. She will be safe.” He pulled open his robe to reveal his thigh strap of razor-sharp discs. “It’s time.”

  She followed Ling Po out of the room. The soldiers closed the door, leaving Mr. Serenity alone. He returned to the artwork splayed across the desk.

  v

  The Council of Arch Generals brought together the twelve leaders of Ba Tian’s army. In theory, their ranks were equal, but they had their own fiefdoms, and their seating arrangement at the oval table hinted at the power structure. The thirteenth seat—Ba Tian’s—remained empty, but Xian had ensconced herself in the seat beside his. Two younger generals sat to her left. One absently traced his long finger over the dragon design along the edge of the table.

  At the opposite end sat Ling
Po and Gu Shan. The rest of the generals filled in the spaces along the table. Ning Shu included herself among those in between.

  Xian called the meeting to order, “Close the chambers.”

  The dozen escorts filed out of the room. The last warrior closed the door, and the generals settled in for the meeting. Ning Shu placed her hands on the mahogany table and scanned the faces of the generals. So few veterans of her father’s army remained; so many lives had been lost.

  Xian banged a jade gavel on the table. “This meeting will come to order.”

  “Why call the Council?” asked a grizzled crimson general.

  “General Kwok, as you can see, one of our own has returned.”

  “The House of Qi thanks you for your courteous reception,” Ning Shu said.

  “It is the least we can do for the prodigal daughter.”

  “And I’m sure my father will recognize your efforts.”

  The generals glanced at one another. The air crackled with tension as the two women glared at each other.

  Gu Shan spoke, “I called this meeting. A serious issue is before us. Ning Shu’s return means the steward of the House of Qi must step down. What troubles me is the fact that Xian has not ceded her authority.”

  The generals near Xian shifted uncomfortably on their high-backed chairs. She sat impassively, barely registering Gu Shan’s accusation with even a raised eyebrow.

  Gu Shan continued. “Ning Shu now speaks for the House of Qi.”

  Xian leaned forward in her chair, drew up the wide sleeves of her purple robe, and rested her elbows on the table, hunching over like a wolf about to pounce. She flashed a thin-lipped smile at the group. “And yet, General Gu Shan seems to speak for her. Perhaps he has something to gain by challenging my stewardship.”

  “I am more than able to speak for the House of Qi,” Ning Shu said, “but I’m concerned the steward doesn’t want to listen.”

  “I serve Ba Tian. He and he alone is the House of Qi,” Xian declared. “I will step down when he returns.”

  Gu Shan sputtered, “The House of Qi is the family: the ancestors and the progeny.”

  Three of the older generals agreed. The five younger ones did not react. Ning Shu noted them all and mentally counted the votes. Not enough. “General Xian, as the House of Qi, I’m at a loss as to why you would not step down as steward.”

  Ling Po backed her up. “Surely, as the council, our duty is to uphold the laws of the House of Qi. To disobey them would be tantamount to sedition.”

  The young generals squirmed in their chairs. The veterans leaned forward, eager to see how this would play out. But Xian seemed nonplussed by the ploy. “General Ling Po, you would be more than happy to return to your position of power as the steward of the House of Qi. In fact, I can almost see you salivating over the prospect, but I hate to disappoint you. Today is not that day. As for Gu Shan, it seems that without Ba Tian, our Council degenerates into petty squabbles and posturing for power. In fact, even his own daughter plays politics.”

  Ning Shu stiffened at the accusation. “Why do I need to usurp your power? I am the House of Qi.”

  “Unless your father deems otherwise. I’m sure the Council is curious about your absence. While we were serving the House of Qi, where were you?”

  “I was on a secret mission for my father.”

  “Ba Tian wouldn’t keep your mission secret from the Council,” Xian said.

  General Kwok and another veteran general nodded. The balance of power shifted toward the steward.

  Ning Shu cleared her throat. “If you must know, there were survivors of realms we invaded. They are plotting against us in secret. My father wanted me to infiltrate their forces to discover their numbers and strengths.”

  Xian betrayed not even a hint of surprise at this news. “It is odd your father would inform me of every action in the event he might be incapacitated, yet he neglected to inform me of this. He led me to believe you had no mission and that you left for personal reasons. Something to do with a man named Hakeem.”

  General Kwok narrowed a suspicious gaze at Ning Shu.

  “That’s what my father wanted Xian to believe. No one could know my true mission, which was to find the traitor among us.”

  The room burst into chatter.

  “Silence,” Xian barked, banging her gavel. “This is a serious allegation, Ning Shu. What proof do you have?”

  “Hakeem, the man you accuse me of consorting with is the designer of the exoskeleton machines we have been using. My father suspected someone was whispering in Hakeem’s ear, trying to lure him away. I was to get close to Hakeem and learn who, but he defected before I could get him to talk. My mission was to track him down and learn the name of the traitor.”

  General Kwok sputtered, “Who?! Who would dare go against the House of Qi?”

  Ning Shu explained, “Only someone on the Council of Arch Generals wields the type of power required to help Hakeem defect. That’s why my father didn’t tell you the truth, Xian.”

  The room exploded with angry accusations and questions.

  Xian pounded the gavel on the table. “Enough I can almost see Ling Po’s hand in this. He wants his stewardship back.”

  Ling Po raised an eyebrow. “Are you accusing the House of Qi of lying, General Xian?”

  “Ba Tian told me everything, Ning Shu,” Xian said. “How you broke his heart when you chose Hakeem over the House of Qi. Why should we believe your story?”

  Ning Shu drew out the jade tael that represented the seal of the House of Qi. “Do you know why this became the seal of the House of Qi? My great-great-grandfather gave it to his wife when they wed. He said the tael was a symbol of the trust they had in each other. This symbol could only be given to one they truly trusted. Whoever bore this symbol was loyal to the House of Qi. That is why it has been passed down only by blood. Do you question this tradition?”

  No one contradicted her.

  “When my mother died, my father’s heart was gone. He told me this in secret, but I feel the need to share it with you now. He said he would not trust another with this seal because he knew that any man or woman who would try to befriend him would only be after the power he wielded.” She fixed her gaze on Xian.

  The red amazon seethed.

  Ning Shu continued, “Since I have returned, an attempt has been made on my life. Only one person in this room has the most to gain from my death. General Xian.”

  “How dare you accuse me!”

  “How dare you try to usurp the House of Qi!”

  “I protect the House of Qi in the manner I see fit.”

  “You’ve overstepped your bounds as the steward!”

  “I am more than steward. I am…” She reached into her purple robe.

  Ling Po yelled, “Ning Shu, get down! Weapon!”

  A flurry of confusion erupted as the generals pushed back from the table. Xian scanned the room, bewildered. Ling Po drew a razor-sharp disc and flung the spinning weapon into Xian’s neck. Blood gushed from the wound. She clutched at her neck and fell back over her chair. She landed on the ground, her eyes open and lifeless.

  Gu Shan and two other generals tackled Ling Po to the floor while the other generals ran to check on Xian. The armed escorts burst into the room. Chaos overtook the room as people shoved one another.

  Ning Shu stood over Xian. She gasped when she saw what Xian was trying to pull out from inside her robe: a jade tael identical to Ning Shu’s, the symbol of the House of Qi.

  METAMORPHOSIS

  Ehrich and his exhausted companions trudged to the northern most pier along the Hudson River. He scanned the dark streets for any sign of people. No one. He pulled out the radiotelegraphometer and turned the gear on the side of the box. The tube popped open and a thin metal pole telescoped out to a foot long. The diodes inside the box began to flash intermittently.

  Tesla took the box from Ehrich. “Fascinating. A radiotelegraphometer, you say.”

  He nodded. “They say it can
transmit radio signals without wires.”

  “What wonders I could create if I could patent such technology. Wireless transmissions. The possibilities are limitless.”

  Ehrich left Tesla with the device as he walked to the riverbank to search the skies for the airship. The night passed without any sign of Xian’s craft. When morning came, Ehrich and his friends moved down the street to avoid rousing suspicion. They couldn’t return to Godfrey’s boarding house, so they were forced to sleep on the street.

  Two more nights passed with no sign of Xian’s soldiers. On the third day, Ehrich led the group to the Hudson River Project, hoping to catch a glimpse of one of the crimson soldiers. Ehrich, Amina, and Tesla dressed like the poor travellers, waiting for a chance to work and blending in with the masses.

  Unlike Ehrich’s previous visit to the project, the Dimensionals seemed more docile. It seemed as if the fight had been drained out of them. Perhaps the constant sentry patrols through the crowd had something to do with the meeker attitudes. The sentries brandished heavy batons and rifles. Though older than teenage hunters, the military men appeared less mature and more willing to showboat for their friends. They shoved the Dimensionals around with little pity for the starving people.

  Ehrich seethed at the sight of this badgering. No one stood up to the soldiers. They had lost the will to fight. The crowd seemed smaller by a third. He hoped the travellers had found other employment, but he suspected the missing people were most likely new guests of Thomas Edison in the prison on Devil’s Island.

  He leaned against the brick wall of a nearby warehouse where Tesla had befriended a pigeon. The tall man stooped over and fed the grey and white bird a few crumbs. Beside him, Amina closed her eyes and tried to sleep. Ehrich pushed off the wall and searched the sky.

  “Patience, Ehrich,” Tesla advised. “They will come.”