by Chris Paton
“That she stay inside the locomotive,” Lena patted Stepan’s hand around her waist. “She will be all right, Kapitan. You believe me, da?”
“Yes, I believe you.” Stepan smiled at the sound of The Voskhod steaming up. “She should continue on to Moscow. For her own sake.”
“Da,” Lena let go of Stepan’s hand to get a better grip of the reins. “Did you kill him, Kapitan?”
“Bryullov? No, a glancing blow to the shoulder. Nothing more.” Stepan frowned as Lena shook within his grasp. “Are you laughing?”
“Da, I am laughing.”
“Why?”
“Because you must be very angry, Kapitan Skuratov,” She twisted in the saddle. “Enough to pick up a gun.” Lena raised her eyebrows, turned back to look over the horse’s head, and leaned into the gallop.
Stepan held on, scanning the plains as they galloped north toward Arkhangelsk. “I am sorry, Anna,” he whispered, “but I am going to have to do this the hard way.”
Stepan leaned back in the saddle as Lena eased the horse to a canter. Pulling the pistol from her bandolier, she handed it to Stepan. “Since you are a passenger, Kapitan, you can reload my pistol. There are more musket balls and powder in the pouches on the back of my bandolier.” Stepan tugged at the pouches in front of him and loaded first one and then the second barrel. “I have another job for you when you are finished with that, Kapitan.”
“And that is?”
Lena laughed, “You can scratch my back.”
Stepan cuffed Lena on the back of the head. “You are your father’s daughter, that’s for sure.” He twisted in the saddle, squinting into the distance to check the progress of the mammoth walkers. He passed the pistol forward.
“Da,” Lena took the pistol from Stepan. “Be sure to tell him when you see him.”
“Yes,” Stepan sighed. “I am still wondering if this is a good idea.”
“Really, Kapitan?” Lena twisted to look at him. “Who else do you think can retake the city?”
“It won’t be easy, Lena.”
“Of course it will not be easy,” Lena shook her head and turned around. Staring straight ahead, she pointed in the direction of the river. “Do you see, Kapitan?”
“What should I see?” Stepan held his hand up, shielding his eyes from the sun.
“The break in the trees along the banks of the river.”
“Yes. A crossing?”
“Da,” Lena dug her heels into the horse’s sides. “And beyond that,” she giggled as the horse picked up speed, “home.”
Chapter 18
The skies above Denmark
Denmark
June, 1851
The wind ripped at Luise’s jacket and skirt, whipping her hair into a fire red banshee tail as the dawn sun broached the horizon. Luise’s knuckle whitened around the handle of the kukri. Tears streamed out of her eyes as she stared at the top of the airship below her. Blinking her eyes clear of tears, Luise watched as two men climbed up and along the airship’s rigging to stand in the middle of the gasbag, binding themselves to the surface with ropes and karabiners. The black material of the airship raced toward her as copper-infused lead balls, zinging to the left and right of her body, sparkled with charged electrons as they raced toward the bridge of The Flying Scotsman as it dived in pursuit.
“Miss Hanover,” Noonan shouted as he staggered along the surface of the airship, a second safety line trailing in his grip. He beckoned to her.
Luise gulped a breath of air. Clutching the kukri, she fiddled it into its scabbard as the airship filled her view. The blade secured, she spread her arms, eagling toward the airship, her fingers splayed like wingtips.
“That’s it,” Noonan shouted. “We have you.”
Luise slammed onto the airship, the impact rippling Noonan off his feet as the shockwave spread through the surface of the gasbag. Reeling from the pain in her stomach, Luise reached for the ropes as she started to slide.
“Grab the rigging,” Noonan struggled to his feet. Reaching down for the safety line, he pounded across the gasbag, bending at the knees each time his feet sank into the surface, launching into the air with the rebound. Noonan bounced closer to Luise as she arrested her fall with a tight grasp of the rigging running up and over the gasbag, securing it to the frame of the airship.
“Miss Hanover,” Noonan slowed as he approached Luise. “I am Major Noonan, 5th Queen’s Own Hussars.” He smiled. “Welcome aboard The Amphitrite.” Working his way down to Luise, Noonan slipped the safety line around her waist, securing her with a Karabiner to his own. Noonan paused as Luise let her weight take up the slack of the safety line. A frown furrowed his brow as Luise grasped her stomach. “Are you all right, Miss Hanover?”
“I think I am bleeding,” Luise grimaced.
“Let’s get you inside, shall we?”
“Yes,” Luise trembled.
“You are in shock,” Noonan gripped Luise’s body around her waist, pulling at the ropes with his good hand. “I can understand.” He looked up at The Flying Scotsman as it buzzed above them. “It was quite a leap.”
“Yes.” Luise reached for the rope.
Noonan looked up. “Here comes Mr. Smith.”
“Miss Hanover,” Smith waved, the Lightning Jezail slung around his shoulder. Working his way along the gasbag, Smith held out his hand, supporting Luise along the rigging as they made their way to the stern hatch.
“He’s coming around again,” Noonan pointed at the airship above them.
“And we have no more ammunition,” Smith looked up. “Not that it made much difference.” He helped Luise onto the rope ladder leading to a platform in front of the hatch. “Who was steering, Miss Hanover?”
“That,” Luise started to climb down the ladder, “was Khronos.” She dropped onto the platform. Powerful arms gripped her as she found her feet. “Admiral,” Luise collapsed into Egmont’s grip.
“My dear, Luise,” Egmont held her tight. “I thought I had lost you.”
“Yes,” Luise pressed her cheek into Egmont’s chest. She looked up. “You almost did.”
“Luise?” Egmont lifted Luise’s chin in his hand to look at her face. “Are you hurt?”
“Yes,” Luise tried to smile. “Quite badly this time, I think.”
Dropping onto the platform, Noonan held up his hand to receive the rifle as Smith climbed down the ladder. Squeezing past Egmont and Luise, Noonan disappeared through the hatch.
Stepping off the rope ladder, Smith gripped the rigging as he looked up at the airship prowling the air above them. He turned to Luise. “Miss Hanover, is Hari not with you?”
Luise shook her head. “No,” she choked. “He...”
“It’s all right, Luise,” Egmont kissed the top of her head as she shook within his arms. “You are safe now.” Egmont caught Smith’s eye. “We had better get going,” he mouthed.
“Right,” Smith tapped Luise on the shoulder. “Let’s get you inside, Miss Hanover.”
“Can you walk, Luise?” Relaxing his grip, Egmont took a step toward the hatch. Luise tightened her arms around his neck. “All right then,” he raised his eyebrows at Smith. “After you, I think.”
“Yes,” Smith nodded as he squeezed past Luise. Waiting on the inside of the hatch, he helped Egmont guide Luise inside and onto the walkway. Noonan clambered over the railings, moving around Luise and Egmont to close the hatch. Luise’s hair stopped dancing as the hatch sealed the inside of the airship from the wind.
“So, Luise,” Egmont lifted her from his chest with a soft grip of his fingers. “Safe now. Like I said.” He helped Luise into a sitting position. “Where are you bleeding?”
“Here,” Luise breathed. She pointed to her stomach. Lifting her eyes, she looked from Egmont to Smith. “Hari,” she started. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she opened her mouth to speak.
“Later,” Smith reached out to press his hand upon Luise’s cheek.
“No,” she shook her head. “Now. Let me tell yo
u now.”
“Briefly then,” Smith wiped a tear from her face as he removed his hand.
“Hari is gone,” Luise took a ragged breath. “Thrown overboard.”
“Really?” Smith peered at Luise over the rim of his glasses. “He’s gone?”
“Yes,” Luise turned back to Egmont. “There’s more. I released another demon. A bigger one. More powerful.”
“I am sure you had no choice,” Egmont smoothed a strand of Luise’s hair from her face.
“I did,” Luise paused. “I had a choice. I took it.” She looked at each of the men on the walkway. “And now I must fix it.” She gripped her satchel. “The answer is in here.”
“I understand, Miss Hanover,” Smith nodded. “But you will need time to study that.”
“And we must go North. There is a man in Arkhangelsk, an expert on khronoglyphics. He will be able to help.”
“North then. But we must stop your bleeding first.” Egmont nodded. He paused to look at Noonan. “But why is the ship turning south? Noonan, you have been to the bridge. What does the Captain say?”
“There has been a sighting of a strange ship, a steamjammer, about which all things seem to have slowed.” Noonan shrugged. “The Captain has spotted it, and, apparently, he is obligated to investigate.”
“I thought he was under our command, Reginald?” Smith frowned.
“Yes,” Egmont took a long breath. “It would seem that my influence, and the Major’s, only extends so far.”
“The Captain also said that there is a build up of activity on the docks to which the steamjammer is headed.”
“He can see that?” Smith leaned forward. “From all this way?”
“I have looked in the Captain’s eyes,” Noonan smiled. “I believe he can. Was it not in the dossier?”
“No,” Smith scratched his head. “It was not.”
“What kind of build up?” Egmont paused as Luise slipped her fingers into his. Lowering his body onto the walkway beside her, he smiled as she rested her head on his shoulder.
“Military. Walkers and emissaries – some kind of machine.”
“Emissaries?” Smith clasped his hands. “Wallendorf.” He turned to Egmont. “Perhaps we can combine forces?”
“With the Germans?” Egmont scoffed. “Haven’t you been fighting these very things in Asia?”
“Yes,” Smith paused. “But we have a common enemy now, Reginald. I think we can turn this to our advantage, and get help for Miss Hanover.” He turned to Luise. “I am sorry, but I must ask.”
“Yes, Mr. Smith.”
“How did Hari fall?”
“Smith,” Egmont growled.
“It’s all right, Admiral,” Luise squeezed Egmont’s hand. “Hari,” she took a deep breath, “was pushed out of the airship. His hands were tied. He was given a lifeboat; the rope was pushed between his fingers.”
“I see,” Smith nodded. “A lifeboat?”
“Yes, a balloon,” Luise nodded. “But no harness.”
“No, no. I understand. Interesting.” Pausing to glance at Egmont, a small smile played across Smith’s lips. “Miss Hanover,” he pointed at her stomach. “Let us get you some help. In the meantime, perhaps you can take some comfort in the knowledge that Hari is indeed a very resourceful individual. I have known him some time, Miss Hanover.”
“I am sorry, Mr. Smith,” Luise shook her head. “But I saw him thrown overboard.”
“I do not doubt you. But, as I said, I have known Hari for quite some time. Concentrate on getting well, Miss Hanover.” Smiling, Smith turned to Noonan. “Major, I think when the Captain delivers us to the Germans, I might have a new mission for The Amphitrite.”
“Yes, Mr. Smith?” Noonan lifted his bandaged hand, pointing with the stumps of his bloody fingers. “Ah,” he smiled. “You want us to find Mr. Singh.”
“Yes, Major,” Smith slapped Noonan on the shoulder. “We can take Hari’s knife later, but for now, let us leave the Admiral and Miss Hanover in peace for a moment. We will be arriving in Hamburg shortly, I would imagine.” He tapped Egmont on the arm. “Remember what we talked about, Reginald.”
“Yes,” Egmont grumbled as Smith and Noonan made their way along the walkway.
“What?” Luise let go of Egmont. She stepped across the walkway, leaning on the railing opposite him.
“Luise, I have something to tell you.”
“Yes?”
“I was...” Egmont fidgeted. “I was very fond of Mathilde, your mother.”
“I know,” Luise smiled. “You took good care of us, after my father died. And,” Luise sighed, “during his difficult times.”
“Yes,” Egmont nodded. “Your father was...”
“Admiral?” Luise reached out to take Egmont’s hand.
Egmont looked up. “I am sorry about Hari, Luise. I really am.”
“I know,” Luise let go of Egmont’s hand, letting it slip from her fingers as she leaned against the railing.
“Your father would have approved.”
“Approved?” Luise’s brow wrinkled. She brushed her fringe from her forehead.
“What I mean is,” Egmont sighed. Gripping the railing behind him with both hands, he looked at Luise. “I mean that I approve.”
“You approve? Of Hari?”
“Yes,” Egmont nodded. He looked away for a moment. Turning back to Luise, Egmont reached forward, curling his arms around her, pulling her tight into his chest. “Luise,” he began as the first tears sparkled her cheeks. “I approve because,” he whispered into her hair, “I am your father, Luise. And I love you so much.”
“That is,” Luise pressed one hand to her stomach as she leaned into Egmont’s embrace. “That is sweet of you, Admiral, but how would you explain this?” She nodded at her stomach. “You don’t have the gene for haemophilia.”
“I...” Egmont stuttered.
Luise reached up and stroked the side of Egmont’s face, fingers rasping through his beard. “But I know my mother felt the same way about you.” She smiled. “Let us pretend it is as you suggested, for I can think of no better father.”
“Thank you,” Egmont whispered. Taking Luise’s hand, he kissed her fingers, holding them as The Amphitrite slowed for landing.
҉
Resting his elbows on a crate at the water’s edge of the Hamburg dockyard, Schleiermacher wound the ripcord around the spindle on the Severinson telescope. Pulling the cord, he held the telescope to his eye as it hummed. Schleiermacher scanned the sea, focusing on the passengers leaping from the bow of The Regal Giant. Shifting his focus, Schleiermacher zoomed in on an object closer to the dock. As the enhanced charge of the telescope lost power, he called to the rifleman closest to him.
“There is a woman in the water. There,” he pointed with the flat of his hand. “Get her onto the dock and bring her to me.”
“Ja, Herr Schleiermacher,” the rifleman grabbed a companion and they ran to the side of the docks. Schleiermacher watched as they pulled a blonde woman from the water. Removing his jacket, the rifleman draped it over the woman’s shoulders. He and his companion supported her as they walked her over to Schleiermacher.
“Thank you,” Hannah sat down on the lid of the crate the rifleman cleared for her.
“Bring some coffee,” Schleiermacher nodded at the rifleman. “You would like some coffee, Fräulein?”
“Ja,” Hannah nodded. She pulled the jacket tighter around her shoulders.
“What is your name?”
Hannah looked up at Schleiermacher. “I am Hannah von Ense, assistant to Minister Bremen of the German Confederation.”
“Yes, Fräulein von Ense,” Schleiermacher nodded. “I thought so.” He gestured at the men and machines positioned on the dock. “We received your telegram.”
“Ja,” she looked up as the rifleman handed her a cup of coffee. Hannah looked around her at the men and the walkers. She lingered over the sight of the emissaries before turning back to Schleiermacher. “It will not be enough
.”
“No?” Schleiermacher removed his hat, rubbing his hand across the wrinkles on his brow.
“No,” Hannah shook her head. “Where is Herr Wallendorf?”
“Direktor Wallendorf is in the command tent,” Schleiermacher pointed along the dock. “I will take you to him.”
Hannah finished the coffee, pressing the empty cup into the rifleman’s hands. She gestured to Schleiermacher. “Lead the way.”
“Are you sure this is not enough?” Schleiermacher steered Hannah between the crates and machines between them and the command tent.
“Ja, I am sure.”
“I will have to take your word on the matter.” Schleiermacher waved at Wallendorf as the old am pushed himself out of his chair. “Here we are, Fräulein.”
“What is that?” Hannah stopped several feet from the command tent. She pointed up at the sky, inland, away from the docks.
“An airship?” Schleiermacher reached for the telescope.
Hannah turned her head. “Two airships. There,” she pointed, “and there. The second one. It is bigger than the first.”
“And farther away, but closing,” the telescope hummed in Schleiermacher’s grip. “The smaller one is preparing to land.” He lowered the telescope. “But we have no airship tower here.”
“What are you looking at, Hans?” Wallendorf’s cane tapped as he walked out from under the tarpaulin.
“Herr Direktor,” Schleiermacher turned to greet Wallendorf. “You remember Fräulein Hannah von Ense?”
Wallendorf blushed as he shook Hannah’s hand. “We have met. A long time ago. Hannah...”
“I am sorry Herr Wallendorf, but we have little time.” Hannah shook as she pointed out to sea. “Your daughter is onboard that ship.”
“She is? Oh, Romney,” Wallendorf’s eyes glistened.
“Ja, but she has changed, Herr Wallendorf.”
“Changed?” Wallendorf raised his voice over the sound of the airship’s propellers beating the air into submission.
“Herr Direktor,” Schleiermacher gripped Wallendorf’s elbow. “I do not know these people.”
