by E. C. Jarvis
Larissa sat up fully, her eyes darting everywhere as she tried to piece together everything that had just transpired. Cid raised his knees and rested his blackened forearms against them.
“The Professor thought he might be after him, although I don’t think he expected anything like this.”
“Where is the Professor?”
She looked over to Cid, who only gave her a plaintive look. She felt her chest give way to fitful sobs.
“Is he dead?”
“No. Worse.”
“What can be worse than dead?”
“Taken.” Cid sniffed indignantly and then released another round of harsh coughing as he rose to his feet, offering his gloved hand down to her. “Come on. I’ll see you home.”
They journeyed to her apartment on foot through a fresh layer of snow. The storm had reduced to a gentle, somber drift. Larissa ached and sobbed quietly to herself, wanting nothing more than to curl into bed. Cid walked alongside her, ignoring her for the most part but occasionally tipping down to catch her when her legs buckled.
The sound of frenzied citizens, enforcers, and firemen faded into the distance as they reached her building, her landing, her door. She reached into her pocket to find the key then paused, looking down at her hand. Inside her clenched fist she saw the stone, the Anthonium. She had been clutching it so tightly that her fingernails left bloody marks on her palm.
Cid loomed over her shoulder, his gaze fixed on the doorknob, chin sticking outwards in confusion. Larissa’s fingers tightened around her stone.
The lock on the door was broken.
The apartment was trashed, the bookshelf thrown to the floor, the desk battered and emptied. The fabric of her chair had been cut, its innards strewn across the floor. Her bedroom door lay on its side, ripped from the wall, and her clothes and belongings had been tossed around and ripped to pieces. Larissa stood, her arms dangling by her sides and feeling as though they had weights tied to them. Silent tears rolled down her cheeks and her body shuddered with each breath. The sight was too much to handle. Her eyes widened with fearful shock.
Imago
“Imago.”
She had meant to call out to him, but instead her voice was a quiet whisper. Stepping carefully into the apartment, her feet crunching on the debris, she called out again.
“Imago...please.”
The curtain twitched slightly and the meekest mewing came out from behind it. Imago coiled his head around the fabric to look at Larissa. Immediately, he jumped in one great leap towards her. She sank down to her knees and cradled him in her arms while the cat rubbed his forehead passionately across her face and hands.
“Doctor Orother is very thorough. He must have come here looking for the Anthonium. You can’t stay here,” Cid stated from the doorway, his voice still husky from the smoke. “If Orother knew you were involved, he’ll have tipped off the city enforcers and they’ll come looking for you. They’ll have questions. Too many bloody questions, and you won’t be able to answer them. We both know where that will land you.”
“Why? I haven’t done anything wrong.” Larissa clutched Imago to her chest and the cat mewed again.
“Won’t matter to them. They’ll want to pin this on someone. You’ll be an easy target.”
“I don’t even understand what happened. What am I supposed to do? I don’t have any money, I can’t just disappear, and the Professor... Maybe if I explain to the enforcers, they’ll go after Orother.”
“Are you bloody daft?” Cid stepped inside and knelt in front of her as she sat huddled with Imago. She looked up at him, her face full of pleading innocence, and for the briefest of moments Cid’s expression seemed to soften. “The enforcers won’t believe a word of it, and even if they do, they don’t have the resources or the intelligence to go after Doctor Orother. They’ll blame you because they can, because it’s easy, because you are nothing to them.”
“I don’t have anywhere to go.” She watched as Cid ran his gloved hand through the mess of tangled brown curls of hair, muttering incoherent words to himself.
“Fine, come with me. Only for a day or two, mind,” he half shouted at her, leaping up with a stride to the doorway. “And don’t even think about bringing that bloody fleabag with you.” He waved his arm frantically at her. “Well, are you coming, or not?”
She looked down at Imago, who had wrapped his paw across her arm in silent ownership. She set the cat down and stood up, quickly gathering a few items into a bag, before heading towards the doorway where Cid waited impatiently. Imago watched on, his tail flicking side to side. Cid walked down the hall and Larissa took one final look around her apartment. She tapped her fingers on her shoulder and Imago pounced up, wrapping his tail around her neck as she followed Cid out into the cold night.
CHAPTER FOUR
Larissa followed behind Cid in silence through the city. They passed through the residential district, past the Dolanite Citadel where the priests could still be seen at candlelight prayers through the stained-glass windows. A pair of stone orbs flanked the building’s entrance, looking almost as though they glowed green in the dim night light.
Their journey continued on for several blocks before Cid turned and noticed Imago on her shoulders. The man stopped dead in his tracks. “For fuck’s sake, didn’t I say you couldn’t bring that thing?” he snorted at her.
Larissa blinked at him, motionless for a moment. For the first time since the explosion, she felt anger boiling in her veins instead of despair.
“I have just lost everything.” She spat the words out in a staccato, almost yelling at him. “When I left work a few hours ago I was a normal, respectable citizen. And now? I’m a wreck. Thank the Gods my mother isn’t alive to see this, and all because of this stupid little stone.” She threw the Anthonium at Cid. It bounced off his chest and disappeared into a pile of snow between his feet.
“I’ve been exploded, burnt, my apartment’s been trashed, and now I’m a marked woman, all because a man I cared for tricked me. And that same man has been taken by some maniac.” She threw her arms in the air and Imago jumped down from her shoulders.
“I can’t even begin to process all this absurdity. I’m grateful that you pulled me out of the fire, and I appreciate that you’re taking me...I don’t even know where we’re going. If you think that means I’m going to leave behind my cat,” she pointed down at Imago, “the only friend I have left in this world, just because you told me to, you are mistaken.”
Cid puffed out his chest, taking a deep breath as he bent down to pick up the Anthonium.
“How the hell did you get this?” he asked, turning it over in his hand.
“What?” All her fight drained away at his change of topic. “Oh. It must have broken free from the machine with the explosion,” she said, shrugging.
“This must have been what Orother wanted from you. Hmmm.” Cid walked away, quietly mumbling to himself.
She watched him turn down a darkened alley as she tried to take in her surroundings, and she followed. He led her to the city outskirts in the Storage and Manufacturing Quarter. The Hub was now hidden from view by lines of tall buildings, warehouses, and storerooms, although the black smoke cloud could still be seen spreading across the sky. The streets were wider here, catering to larger steam-powered vehicles. A nearby signpost pointed to Sallarium City Limit Station.
“You coming, girl?” Cid yelled from up ahead. Larissa managed a weak smile to herself as she followed.
Around the corner Cid stood in the darkened doorway of a colossal wooden structure, a warehouse of sorts. She felt a sudden twinge of discomfort at the prospect of entering such an odd place with an equally odd man. Cid had saved her life and been kind enough so far. If she wanted to make sense of everything that had happened, Cid seemed to be her best bet. Imago padded his way through the snow beside her until they turned into the warehouse.
Cid struck a match and lit a gas lamp. Immediately, the flame spread throughout a system of linked lamp
s to light the entire building. Larissa’s mouth dropped open when she saw what was hidden inside.
Spanning the entire warehouse length was the finest airship she had ever seen. The keel was built of dark-stained oak with cedar planking; the hull was curved with small portholes dotted across the length, their frames emblazoned with ornate carvings. Two large rotors protruded from either end of the ship, and the only missing part was the large balloon that sat in the center. It lay folded neatly along the warehouse floor instead.
Imago found a wayward piece of string to claim and Cid immediately busied himself with rummaging through a large cabinet propped against a wall. Larissa ran her fingers along the ship’s wooden panels, studying them in detail. As she reached the end, her breath stopped short. Upon a brass plaque, in fine gold lettering, she read the ship’s name—Larissa.
“The Professor asked me to do that last week,” Cid yelled to her, nodding at the nameplate. With a shrug he resumed his rummaging.
“We only met two weeks ago?” Larissa mused openly. She couldn’t stop the stupid grin that spread across her face at the memory and the thought that the Professor was so enamoured with her as to name such a beautiful ship after her. Then the smile faded and an ache caught in her chest at the realization that he was gone.
“Won’t Doctor Orother come looking here?” she called back to Cid, who had disappeared. He reappeared up on deck and threw a rope ladder over the side, beckoning her to climb up.
“Orother has the man he came for. Besides, the Professor kept this beauty quiet.”
He spoke as she climbed. Cid shoved a tattered box in her arms which was filled with vials and bandages. He ripped the goggles off his head, revealing a permanent indent in his skin. Then the gloves came off; the skin on his hands were pearly white, contrasted by his darkly tanned arms, now black with burned soot and covered with pockets of bloody blisters from the fire.
Cid picked up a bottle of yellow liquid and poured it over his arms, hissing through his teeth at the sting, then deftly bandaged each arm. Finally, he poured some more liquid into one hand, rubbed his palms together, and roughly rubbed it into his face with a growl of pain. Larissa noticed he had tucked a pair of pistols into hooks on his suspenders; her heart sank when she considered how suddenly dangerous her world had become.
“I’ll sleep up here in case anyone comes in. You can sleep in the Captain’s cabin up front. If you hear anyone come in, there’s a trap door beneath the ottoman in the corner. Get down there and sneak out back as quick as you can.” He waved her off towards the cabin door.
“And take that bloody cat with you.” Imago arrived beside her feet as though he had understood, and Larissa entered the cabin.
Inside, a single candle lit the room from the huge desk at one end. The dark wood panels on the walls were decorated with more ornate carvings and the cabin smelled faintly of wood polish. Through the small stained-glass porthole windows, Larissa could see the lamps outside in the warehouse dimming as Cid extinguished the flames. She set the medical box down on the desk and sunk into the ornate leather chair. It was hard to know where to start; every inch of her body ached in one way or another.
She began by removing her boots, which were mostly destroyed, anyway. She hadn’t noticed the fact that her left boot had lost the heel completely. The corset had turned out similarly, hanging off her body as a torn rag, the inner boning twisted beyond use. Her skirt was singed and part of the fabric still stuck to her skin. The tights beneath had filled with unsightly holes, the exposed skin patchy with mottled soot and blood. The only thing that wasn’t completely useless was her cloak, which had somehow survived the ordeal virtually unscathed.
She set about oiling herself with the yellow liquid as Cid had done, combating strained screams through gritted teeth as it touched open wounds. Imago curled up atop the desk, watching her from the corner of his eye. After battling with bandages for some time, she scanned the cabin for a bed.
It had grown dark, the single candle giving a small field of vision. Eventually she noticed the hammock hanging at an angle in a corner. After two unladylike attempts to drag herself into the hammock, she succeeded on the third try, almost falling straight out again when Imago leapt in with her. Within moments, exhaustion took hold and she slipped into a disturbed slumber.
CHAPTER FIVE
Voices echoed in the darkness. The words seemed to linger in the air unnaturally, fading into nonsensical mixtures of syllables. Occasionally, a light shone and evaporated at irregular intervals. It was difficult to focus, impossible to comprehend the passage of time. It was as though a cloudy haze wrapped around his mind. Eventually, the Professor managed to maintain consciousness. He opened his eyes to virtual darkness. A single flickering green candle flame wavered on a nearby table, illuminating the wall and not much else.
He tried to move, instantly regretting the attempt. A rush of pain swept across his body as though he were being stabbed by a thousand tiny needles. His wrists were bound and tied with rope hooked to the ceiling, his body elongated so he was forced to stand on tiptoe. He had been stripped at the torso, cold air prickling his chest and feathering it with goose bumps. He strained against the bindings, testing them for weakness; it appeared to be a futile task.
A lurching feeling took over in the pit of his stomach and his head seemed to loll from side to side. Somewhere within the room the sound of a ticking clock came into focus. He tried to count the seconds and the minutes. By the time he counted twelve minutes his mind started to fog again and he lost count.
“Professor.”
The voice caught the Professor’s attention and he forced his eyes to open once more. He saw the familiar shape of a man dressed in a long, white, unbuttoned overcoat with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, leaning in the doorway ahead.
“Doctor Orother.”
The Professor’s voice was dry with an unfamiliar sound. The Doctor stepped inside, followed closely by an extremely tall and muscular male and one short, slender female. Through the doorway, a third figure dressed in a dark red robe loomed in the shadows.
The Doctor lit a lamp, which shone with a bright green flame; the Professor flinched as the light scorched his eyes. How long had he been in there?
“I am going to make this simple for you. I want the design for your machine. When I have built a working copy for myself, I will kill you mercifully. Until that time, if you do not cooperate, I will make you suffer.” The Doctor brought his nose up to the Professor’s.
“I see.”
It was all he could think to say in response. A drop of sweat formed in the wrinkle of his forehead, dripping down his nose until it paused at the tip. The Doctor moved in closer still until his own nose almost brushed against the drop of sweat. His wild eyes darted left and right as his focus shifted between the Professor’s eyes. The corners of Orother's lips curled into a sickening grin. His chin-full of long brown stubble did nothing to hide the sneer of delight, making him look quite at home in the role of tormentor.
“Hans,” Doctor Orother shouted to the tall man at the back of the room. Hans stepped forward; he was so tall his head almost brushed the ceiling and his shirt barely contained the thick muscles of his arms and shoulders. A dark, bushy moustache sat above his top lip, but the top of his head was bald and his grizzly face pulled down into a permanent scowl. Hans squeezed his knuckles and they crunched and cracked. The Doctor stepped backwards, regaining his composure.
“This is Hans. He used to be a military recruit trainer. Unfortunately, he wasn’t much good. Used to beat the poor creatures to death before they had a chance to learn, and so he needed a change of career.” As Orother chuckled, the Professor felt his stomach churn.
“And this is the lovely Amaria, my engineer.” The woman stepped into view beside the Doctor; she was small and homely, with mousey hair and thin-rimmed spectacles perched on her nose. She took small steps within the tightness of the pinstripe skirt that hugged her thin thighs; the skirt didn’t quite
manage to hide the top of her stockings. Her feet clacked along the wooden floor as the points of her high heels tapped with her steps. Orother latched an arm around her shoulder.
“She will be here to notate your designs. Now, let us see how amenable you are going to be.”
Hans pulled a large whip from his belt and moved to stand behind the Professor. The Professor clenched his fists to prepare for the pain. The drip of sweat finally fell from his nose as the torture began.
. . .
Daylight seeped through the cracks in the warehouse walls and in turn spilled through the ship windows, illuminating the Captain’s cabin. Larissa awoke with a woozy head and it took a few moments before she remembered where she was. The memory of the night's events came flooding back like a recollection of some nightmare. She rolled over and jumped down from the hammock, managing to avoid breaking any bones. She stretched up, elongating her spine, which gave a satisfying crack. The poorly twisted bandages unwrapped from around her arms and fell to the floor. Out of nowhere, Imago pounced upon one end, scuttling away with it under the desk. Larissa smiled, though the smile turned to a frown as she noticed something odd.
I feel...fine?
She stroked the skin on her arms; it was cold to the touch and felt unusual, as though it didn’t belong to her. The burns and blisters were gone, healed over in one night. She approached the medical box on the desk and picked up the yellow oil, wondering what exactly the liquid was. Imago moved underfoot, still chasing the bandage. He knocked into the desk, causing a pile of papers to flutter to the ground.
“Imago,” she scolded him as she bent down to tidy the papers, “this isn’t our home. We can’t go around messing up...” The document in her hand caught her eye.
Summary Report – Target: Markus, Larissa
“I would normally find the act of snooping abhorrent,” she said to Imago, who sat upon the bandage and regarded her coolly.
