by Raven Bond
“Oh, of course,” Bardon said sarcastically with a courtly little bow at the man. “This is Captain William Hunting Owl, of the airship Wind Dancer, and,” he pointed a sword at Abigail. “your angel of mercy there is Abigail, Lady Hadley.” The man looked at Abigail sharply.
“You are Robert's daughter?” He asked.
Abigail had just finished untying a leg. She looked up at the man. He seemed familiar to her somehow.
“I am,” she replied. “You know my father, sir?”
“Lady Abigail, Captain Hunting Owl,” Bardon announced with a flourish of his swords, “May I present to you Nikola Tesla, Head of the Alliance Council of Science, KCOV, IES, etc., etc., and general pain in the arse.”
“Please, Richard,” Tesla frowned, rubbing his wrists. “I know that you are angry with me, but that does not call for vulgarity.”
“Doctor Tesla. . .” Abigail breathed. She sprang up as if electrified. Now that she knew, she could see it. In profile he looked very much like the pictures of him she had seen all her life. She was mortified that she had missed it.
“Please, Lady Hadley,” he sniffed, “A doctor fixes diseased bodies. If he is lucky that is. I,” he smiled gently at her, “ I am simply to be called Tesla thank you.” Tesla stood, rubbing his wrists. He was much taller than pictures indicated, Abigail thought, taller even than Captain Hunting Owl.
“Pleased to meet you, your wizardness,” Will greeted him dryly, looking around the room. “So, no Lord Hadley,” he said looking around the room.
“No,” Tesla said. “They seemed to think at first that I was him. I tried to convince them that I was not, but. . .” Will cut him off in mid-sentence.
“We can talk about that later,” the Captain said. He turned to Abigail. “I'm sorry Abigail.” He nudged Bardon in the shoulder. “Bardon, you need to come see this, now.”
“So your father is truly missing then?” Tesla asked, turning to Abigail
“Yes sir,” she said. Abigail fought back tears. “It would seem so.”
“Now, Lady Hadley,” Tesla held up an admonishing finger. As I said, no 'doctor' or 'sir' for that matter, just Tesla please. Come,” he said offering her his arm. “Let us go see what they are looking at.”
After retrieving her pistol, she followed the savant into the other room. Guang was sitting on a chair in one corner. His coat was off, a crude bandage around his shoulder. Abigail was glad to see him still alive. His face though was grim as he watched the others huddled on the floor.
They were crouched over the corpse of the man who had attacked them so savagely. Will was speaking as she came closer. Saira was holding one of the lanterns over them so they could see.
“So, Queen’s Man,” Will was saying to Bardon, almost challengingly. “Have you ever seen anything like this?”
“My God,” Bardon said reverently, “No, never. What is that?”
Abigail pushed past Tesla's gentlemanly attempt to restrain her from seeing the corpse to see what they were talking about. They had turned the body over. She placed a hand over her mouth in shock. Instead of red gore coming from his many wounds, a very thick pink jelly was slowly oozing out.
“It is a demon of some kind I tell you,” Saira asserted. “That cannot have been a man.”
“She may not be far wrong,” Tesla interjected grimly. “Gentlemen, I am very much afraid that what you see before you may possibly be the greatest danger the British Empire and the Alliance of Nations has faced since the Alien Invasion. Humanity may, once again, be in great peril,” he pronounced.
Chapter 10
Pang-yeuon Road, Hong Kong
Everyone was silent in the wake of Tesla's statement. They stared with amazement at the strange oozing jelly. William Hunting Owl was the first to hear a faint noise from outside, as if someone was banging on a pot. As he listened, the noise began to grow.
“Listen!” Captain Hunting Owl commanded. “What is that?” The others lifted their heads, cocking hands to ears to listen more closely.
“It is the alarm!” Guang exclaimed. He struggled to his feet. “Someone has decided to be brave when they heard the shots. We must go. Soon the entire Pang-yeuon will be roused, and the authorities will follow.” In response to this, Captain Hunting Owl squatted back down on his haunches.
“Well, seeing as we have just rescued such a distinguished person, I don't see a problem with waiting for them,” The Captain announced. He was watching Bardon as he spoke, who appeared uncomfortable with this notion. He pounced on Bardon's expression, “Ha! I knew it! There's more that you're not telling.” It was Tesla who answered him instead of the Englishman.
“It would be better if we avoided the local authorities, Captain,” the Savant said. “The reasons are not nefarious, I assure you.”
“It is not the British we need to concern ourselves with,” Guang pressed. “You are foreigners. If it is discovered that foreigners have killed Chin, the mob will rend us before the Peelers can arrive. We must go!”
“What about him?” Will pointed with his thumb at the corpse.
“Burn it,” Guang snapped. “The fire will destroy what has happened here. It will also distract the ‘pang’.”
“I will get the bodies from outside,” Saira volunteered. She set the lamp back in on its hook against the wall.
“Seems to me you might start the whole district on fire way things are built around here,” Captain Hunting Owl remarked. He rose decisively. Guang. Guang looked back at him coldly.
“Perhaps,” he said, “but I think it unlikely. Why should you care Redman?”
“Just thought I'd point it out,” he said mildly. Saira was dragging in the first of the guards they had killed. “I'll get the other. We'd best move quick,” Will said moving towards the door.
The din of the banging pots rang louder through the night as the group moved swiftly back towards the car. Lanterns were winking on like fireflies among the lean-to abodes and shacks. People were running back and forth with cries of alarm. The number of people on the rough track was swelling. People were running towards the burning shack with pails of water and sand. No one paid their group any attention. Guang had been right; they might as well have been ghosts.
Will looked back over his shoulder. He saw the fire leap up, revealing a crowd of shadows that were trying to stop it. He sincerely wished them luck. When he looked forward, he saw the shape of the car, and gave a sigh of relief. They might make it after all. Trying to shoot a way through an angry mob wasn't something he wanted to do ever again.
As Captain Hunting Owl chivvied everyone into car, Bardon stopped, looking into the sky over Will's shoulder. He pointed.
“Captain, do you know what that is?” The spy asked.
Will turned and looked up. He saw a small airship enter through an opening in the shield. Given its size and silhouette, it was most likely a dispatch boat, or perhaps a private yacht.
“Mail boat, I'd guess,” Will remarked. “Maybe the Pacific Fleet is back early from their maneuvers. We should go. We are running away from a murder.”
“I thought it was,” Bardon frowned, but remained unmoving. “I can't make out its markings though.”
Will pulled out his spyglass and trained it on the ship. The ensign was illuminated by a ship's spot. He saw the union jack over a winged man, with the ship’s name, Mercury, beneath it. He scanned the length of the ship seeing nothing unusual.
“British Navy ship, HMS Mercury” Will answered with a shrug, “Looks all ship shape from here. Why are you so interested?”
“Mercury?” Bardon exclaimed. “Are you. . .forgive me, of course you are sure Captain.” He stared up at the vessel in the sky and began shaking his head. Will could tell that the man was scared for the first time since he'd met him. “Something is wrong here, Captain, very, very, wrong. We must leave at once!” With that he sprang into the car.
“The English are all crazy,” Saira sighed. She moved quickly towards the other door. Will glanced up at th
e airship moving ponderously across the sky against the rainbow of the Shield. He settled himself into the back of the car and closed the door.
“Where to, Captain?” Sebastian called from the driver’s seat. “Guang here says the An compound.”
“No!” Bardon exclaimed, “Make for the Wind Dancer!” He gave Will a pleading look. “Please, Captain.” Will looked at him for a moment. The man was truly scared.
“Make for Wind Dancer Sebastian,” Will decided. As the car rumbled forward, Will turned towards the spy. “Alright, Bardon. Talk. I'll decide how much of it to believe.”
“That ship cannot possibly be the Mercury, Captain.” Bardon explained quietly. “Four days ago the Mercury was in Gibraltar land dock. I asked you about it because with the fleet gone, I had requested aid. I have been awaiting the cruiser Defiant.”
“Huh.” Captain Hunting Owl crossed his arms. He watched Bardon with eyes like his namesake. “And you know this about the Mercury how exactly?”
“Nothing extraordinary, I assure you,” Bardon gave a ghost of a smile. “My nephew serves aboard the Mercury. I just spoke to him four days ago by 'wave.”
“Forgive me,” Abigail said, “But I fall to see how this relates to that. . . that thing we just killed. Or what it has to do with finding my father.”
“I may have an answer about where you father is,” Tesla spoke up. “If our mysterious kidnappers do not have him, then the obvious answer is that he has returned to the discovery by himself. I was afraid he might. Did he leave you any message or clue as to where it might be?”
“No,” Abigail said forlornly. “Only the card to Madame Chang's here and some picture”
“A picture,” Chang echoed, emotion showing in her voice for the first time. “Was it similar to the ones on the walls of my office?”
“Yes,” Abigail replied, “Only not as big, or well, to be frank, not as lewd.”
“That is it,” Chang declared. “Robert had a map made. He sent you to me as I would be the only one who could read it.” The woman's face showed real animation for the first time since Will had met her. “Why did you not speak of this before?” Chang demanded, “I must see it!”
Everyone began trying to speak at the same time, except Bardon.
“Quiet!” Will said in a voice that cut across the noise. “One thing at a time here.” He turned back to the brooding agent. “So, you think this Mercury is a Trojan Horse of some kind?”
“You are very well educated,” Bardon remarked. Bardon coughed briefly, before continuing. “While it is a possibility, I believe it more likely that it carries messages from those who are no friend to this city, or to the Empire.”
“If you meant to say that I'm well educated for a Redskin, I suppose I am in some ways,” Will smiled back tightly. He doubted he'd ever like Bardon. The man was a bigot. “Captain of the ship Da and I served in the War took an interest. Taught me reading and then let me lose on his books. Military stuff, mostly.”
“Really!” Bardon said, surprised. “I would have thought you too young to serve in the War. What ship and captain?”
“I was my Da's rat catcher on the old John Paul,” Will replied with a shrug. “It was safer for me that way than on land, lots of folks did it back then, you know. The captain was a Union Army man, name of Custer. We all called him Goldilocks. Good man in his way. Fool died at the Battle of St. Louis during the Independence War, took his whole ship with him.” Will knew that Bardon was leading up to something, he just didn't know what.
“I am sorry to hear that, Captain,” Bardon nodded as if to himself and after a moments silence, he spoke again, “I would like to hire your ship, if it's available.”
“Alright,” Hunting Owl replied, crossing his arms, “make your offer.” Will leaned back in his seat. This was what Bardon had been leading up to.
“I wish to hire you to take Tesla safely to the nearest British or Alliance authority outside of Hong Kong,” Bardon said earnestly. “I cannot pay you in advance, but I will give you a note on the Crowns purse. I need you to leave tonight.”
“Do I get a say in this, Richard?” Tesla asked testily from across the cab.
“No Nikola, you do not,” Bardon replied firmly. “My primary mission is to keep you safe. I cannot do that if I am to find out what’s going on in this colony.”
“In all the years of our relationship you have never changed,” Tesla said with a sigh. “What do you say Captain?”
“Tonight?” Will looked at Bardon. “There are still little things like port clearance and a closed Shield to fix?”
“You can leave all that to me,” Bardon replied confidently.
“I was afraid you'd say something like that,” Will sighed. He looked around at their faces while he thought. He read the exhaustion and determination to help each other. There were several ways he could play this out. Petrov was linked to the Black raiders. Petrov also wanted Abigail's father for some reason. His eyes rested on Abigail for a moment; she looked back anxiously. He had promised her they'd find her father. Then there was that thing they'd killed. It flat out scared him. No one could take that kind of punishment, no one human anyway. He remembered what Abigail had said about her run in with Petrov. Petrov had been mean, but hadn't shown that kind of ability back in Cairo. Also, Chang definitely wasn't like any crime boss he'd met before either.
No, there was more to learn here. Besides, it never hurt to have a toff of Tesla's stature beholden to you. Doing the job for Bardon just might keep them in the game before the British noses tried to freeze them out, even if, Hunting Owl thought with distaste, it meant taking government money.
“Alright,” Hunting Owl agreed. He held out his hand. “You've just hired a ship, Bardon.”
Bardon returned the handclasp and held it. Bardon let out a breath as he dropped the handshake. He turned to look at Saira. The Indian woman looked back at him with a closed face.
“Driver,” Bardon called out, still meeting her eyes, “let me off at Water Street will you?” Bardon turned back to Will, his grey eyes hard in the light from the passing street lamps.
“You do remember what you said when we met about shooting those who harm those close to you, Captain?” the Englishman said.
“Sure,” Will nodded easily. “I figured that already. So, you got a pencil and paper on you for that payment note?”
Chapter 11
Water Street, Hong Kong
Sir Richard Bardon, secret agent of Her Majesty Victoria watched the steam car pull smoothly away. The Wind Dancer driver was good enough that he could both brake the car and keep the steam up at the same time. Even Bardon's driver back in London wasn't that good; there was always an uncomfortable surge when the damned thing started moving. He only hoped that Hunting Owl was as good as his driver.
He had his reservations about sending Tesla with them, but needs must, as the old saying went. Hunting Owl was no fool, and knew that he could ransom Tesla for many times whatever Bardon could offer him. It had been the presence of Saira Brighton that had convinced Bardon to take the risk of hiring the ship and crew.
His superiors might question how the presence of a member of the most notorious assassin -cults of the East could be reassuring. Bardon knew from experience that there was no room in the Naga code for double-dealing. Once someone gave their word, they could be trusted. Nor would a Naga-born-and-raised assassin follow anyone who did not keep their word. Bardon knew that Saira would see to it that the deal was kept, including killing anyone who tried to take advantage of an innocent. In this case, Tesla certainly was a babe in the woods, given the political environment.
Bardon frowned. Ever since they had arrived in Hong Kong to search for Tesla's friend, Lord Robert Hadley, he had gotten the sense that something was terribly wrong in this city. There were undercurrents beneath the undercurrents here. He thought he had deduced that the Russians were playing games with destabilizing the colony. Then had come the hideous discovery in the shack during Tesla's rescue. B
ardon shook his head.
Monsters walking among them. Were they tools of the Russians? Did they have their own agenda? Too many questions he mused. Questions he needed to find the answers to.
His first duty was to see his cranky friend to safety. Tesla might resist the idea, but Bardon was clear on this point. Tesla's mind was worth any sacrifice to keep him alive and free from the enemy, whoever they might prove to be. Bardon knew that his friend's resistance was not false modesty, but rather a rage against the cage of fate and choice. Bardon knew that resistance. He'd felt it himself. But then, he'd made all his choices long ago. Queen and Country, he thought.
Taking his bearings, he pulled out a cloth face mask, which he tied around his face as he walked. Many in Hong Kong wore them to filter out the incredible stink of the nighttime fog. The odorous mixture of coal smoke and night fog wasn't this bad even in London, where the cockney street Arabs had started calling it “smog” for smelly fog, or 'cog' for coal fog. But then with the Shield nearly always present in Hong Kong, the fumes rarely got vented. Part of the price for security.
As a Queens Eye, Bardon knew how great the need for that security was, especially here in China. It was surprisingly easy to build modern weapons once you had the knowledge. Every thug and petty warlord in the country was doing just that. He had seen a coil cannon being forged in a blacksmith's shop fueled by yak dung, not so far from here.
He pulled the mask snugly across his face. While the straits of Her Majesty's colony in Hong Kong might be dire, tonight they served him well, giving him the means to conceal his identity. He turned down Cherry Blossom Lane. 'Alley' would be a better name for it, he thought. He hadn't revealed how he was going to get the Shield open to the others in the car, because he honestly hadn't known at the time.
