Dark Humanity

by Gwynn White

  My teeth clenched tightly, I watched as he worked. It seemed to take an eternity, but soon he called: “Good! I’m ready.”

  I motioned to the crewman to begin again. Sal crawled into the crevice, disappearing into the cave.

  “Sal? Salvatore?” I called.

  “I’m okay,” his voice echoed from within the cave. A few minutes later, he called “Stop. I’m down.” I motioned to the crewman to halt. I shook my head. This felt like lunacy.

  I went back on deck to see if I could get a better look. I stared down at the crevice into which Sal had been lowered. I felt like I was frozen in place. After what seemed like an eternity, Sal called up to me. His voice echoed from the expanse of the cave.

  “We have her. Up and slow,” he called.

  I went back down to the galley and nodded to the crewman, motioning for him to go slowly. As the line on the harness grew taught, the Bacchus put up a little resistance. The gears groaned a bit. For a moment, I feared we really were trying to lift marble. The crewman applied a little more torque and soon it began to lift.

  I leaned back over the open hatch door and waited.

  “Stop,” Sal called. His voice sounded like he was just near the opening. I saw the harness shake.

  “Sal?”

  “I’m all right. Just adjusting,” he called. A moment later he yelled, “Begin again. Easy.”

  I nodded and signaled once more.

  A moment later, Sal and Aphrodite emerged into the sunlight. The statue glimmered blindingly bright.

  “Ave Maria!” the galleyman exclaimed in surprise.

  It was an amazing sight. Sal had lashed her tightly against him, gripping the statue under the arms and around the waist. He guided her carefully out of the crevice, protecting her head as best he could as she neared the sides of the opening. The two of them slipped through.

  I breathed a sigh of relief. I headed to the deck and leaned over the rail so I could see when Sal made landfall. He used his legs to guide them around the rocks, clutching the statue as he moved toward the flat, grassy landing above the cliff.

  Once his feet were flat on the ground, I called stop. The gears on the Bacchus ground to a halt. Sal unharnessed himself and the statue.

  “Lily, bring the Bacchus down as low as you can. Let’s crate the statue and get her stowed in the galley,” Sal called.

  Airships do not like to be low. It risks damage to the rudder and propeller. I frowned and signaled to the balloonman. He frowned in agreement but opened the balloon value a crack. The ship began to lower.

  “Watch the rudder, Sal,” I called.

  When we came within ten feet of land, Sal called “Stop!”

  I dropped the ladder overboard and went down. We had traded Professor Herzog’s workers a spyglass and a case of Italian wine for a long, wooden crate in which we could transport the statue. There was just enough room in the galley to stow her there, out of sight.

  “Let me talk to the crew. I’ll need more muscle to get her loaded without damage,” Sal said as he positioned the statue on the grassy cliff-top.

  In the bright light of day, the statue was truly stunning. It was not made of marble, at least not any kind of marble I had ever seen. I didn’t know what it was made of, but it was beautiful. I reached out and touched her cheek. I could see why she had scandalized the ancient world. It was not so much that she was nude that was so shocking, it was the way she stood that made her so provocative. While they might have called the statue “Modest Venus,” her pose was anything but modest. The Aphrodite was not shyly covering her feminine parts with her hand. Instead, her hand was tipped forward; she was offering her body to the viewer.

  Sal and the galleyman returned with the crate. Carefully, we lowered the Aphrodite of Knidos into the box. She lay in a bed of golden straw. Her eyes were blank, but the playful smile on her lips made me think that she was enjoying all this intrigue.

  Once she was secure in the crate, the box was lashed with rope, and the pulley system lifted the statue into a small space in the gear galley. The galleyman and I reboarded the ship and guided the crate to rest between the rods. She barely fit, but we had her.

  I could not help but smile. “Let’s pick up Celeste then head out,” I said.

  “To where?” Sal asked.

  Indeed, where could you hide the Goddess of Love?

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  “Lesvos,” Celeste said.

  We were standing on the deck of the Bacchus debating—more disagreeing—our next move.

  “Celeste, the isle of Lesvos is situated right in the middle of the Ottoman-Greek conflict,” Sal said.

  “Perhaps we should take her back to Venice,” I suggested.

  Celeste shook her head. “We have a sanctuary on Lesvos that is secret. She will be safe there. In Venice, our moves are watched.”

  Sal looked at me. “Lesvos is not a hotly contested piece of land. It’s what may lie between us and Lesvos that is a problem.”

  “We’ve come all this way, Lily. We must take her somewhere safe. Cyprus is compromised. In Venice we are watched. Athens is a disaster. I must move her, at least for now, somewhere secret. She must be taken somewhere secluded until our order decides what is best. Please!”

  “And if the Bacchus is blasted out of the sky?”

  “Fly an Italian ensign. With Bacchus on the balloon, people will know we are not about war,” Celeste said.

  This was exactly the kind of mess Jessup and Angus had worried about. “I don’t know.”

  “Please, Lily. Please!” she said, taking my hand. Her eyes brimmed with tears. “Please help us.”

  I sighed. “Let me see a map.”

  I looked over Celeste’s proposed flight path. She was asking us to fly into a war zone.

  “Is there no other option? I could fly the Bacchus to London or Paris. You could transport her elsewhere by land or sea.”

  Celeste shook her head. “We can move in and out quickly. No one will ever know. I just need to get her to Lesvos.”

  “You could have mentioned your plan to fly into the middle of a war before we left Venice,” I chided.

  “I was afraid you wouldn’t come.”

  “You were right.”

  I handed Celeste the map. “In and out. After the drop, no more side trips. I have a race to worry about.”

  “Yes, I understand. Oh Lily, thank you so much!”

  “Yeah, okay,” I said with a sigh and then turned to Sal. “You all right with that?”

  He shrugged nonchalantly. “It is for you to decide.”

  “Then let’s get the crew ready,” I said.

  Sal nodded and went to exchange words with the crew.

  I was feeling irritable, and it was not just because Celeste had me potentially dodging canon fire. I had already started to stretch out my laudanum intake. As delighted as I was that we had found the sculpture, I was already headed back to London in my mind and was in no mood for a detour. That, and I wanted to smoke opium. I really wanted to smoke opium.

  Fly fast. Move quick. Get it over with. That was my mantra as I took the wheelstand and guided the ship northbound into the belly of the Aegean. If we caught a good wind, and the Bacchus showed me what it was made of, I could have us in port by midnight.

  It was late afternoon when we flew between Kos and Knidos. I took the Bacchus up. I wanted to get well out of eyeshot from anything on land or in the water. The cloud bank promised some cover. When it got dark, I would keep the lanterns off. The stars had guided me this far, maybe they could shed a little light on the rest of the journey.

  I asked Sal to have the galleyman run the Bacchus at full speed. Something inside me made me feel like I was on the run.

  Gliding along the coast of the Ottoman Empire, I kept my eyes peeled for any sign of trouble. Sal and Celeste watched over the side of the ship looking for action in the water below. Thankfully, the waters were clear. There was no Greek incursion on Trojan shores that night.

  A c
ouple of hours into the trip, I found myself rooting through my satchel for my laudanum. I was feeling frustrated with the world for no good reason other than I had not indulged my habit for hours. It was a horrible feeling. I tried to keep my cravings at bay, tried to focus on Sal, on the Aphrodite, on the race, on getting to Lesvos, but nothing was working. The longer I waited, the more agitated I became. Once I finally dug out my bottle, I took three healthy drops of the opiate. It would be enough to make the trip tolerable. I closed my eyes and drifted. The feel of the drug made my body tingle, and suddenly I felt lighter. I felt less irritable. My head was swimming in a foggy haze. I rocked with the ship, feeling the Bacchus shift in the wind. It was so peaceful.

  It was not until Sal was standing before me in a fit of panic that I realized I had missed something, something important. Sal moved my hands from the wheel and cranked it hard.

  “Starboard! Starboard!” Celeste was shouting.

  I tried to focus. On our starboard side, a small ship was flying in very fast. Someone aboard the deck of the opposing ship was loading a harpoon. It was aimed at the Bacchus.

  “Oh my god!” I exclaimed and reached for the wheel. “I’ve got it!” I told Sal. “We need to drop elevation!”

  Sal yelled up to the balloonman then pulled out his sidearm.

  If we got the ship low, they would not be able to harpoon the gondola. If they wanted us alive, they would not take out the balloon. The Bacchus did its best, but in the end, the ship was bulky and slow.

  The harpoon hit the prow of the Bacchus with a jolt. I gasped to see the metal claw puncture through the prow. Wood shrapnel sprayed everywhere. By luck, they had missed the propeller assembly. Since we’d already begun dropping altitude, when the harpoon caught the ship by the nose, it heaved us up. I clutched the wheelstand as the ship began to tip from the prow. The small ship that attacked us used counter maneuvers to avoid being dragged down. They increased their altitude. Soon, they were pulling us upward.

  With no better recourse, Roni’s balloonman heated the Bacchus’ balloon to keep pace before we all got dumped into the ocean or the balloon buckled into the burners.

  I looked at the opposing ship. This was no pirate vessel. Nor was it a Greek or Ottoman warship. The ship was a sleek, expensive, and well-equipped private ship. It was the kind of ship an aged antiquity dealer could afford. On the ship’s side, I noted the vessels’ name: Hephaestus. No, this was no coincidence; on the deck of the ship was the man I had outrun in Venice. The Dilettanti had us.

  Celeste headed below.

  Sal, weapon drawn, came to my side.

  I let go of the wheel. There was nothing more I could do.

  Chapter Thirty

  “Well, Miss Stargazer, what are you doing so far from home?” an Englishman in a dark suit asked me from the deck of the Hephaestus as they moored to the side of the Bacchus. Inconspicuously, I pulled my gun from my satchel and stuck it into the back of Sal’s pants. Anger made my hands shake. While I felt rage toward the Dilettanti, I was angrier with myself. This was my fault.

  “I suggest you don’t come closer,” Sal said, aiming his handgun toward the Englishman.

  “Signor Colonna, we are after your sculpture, not your woman. Miss Stargazer just needs to tell us the location of the sculpture, and we’ll let you limp to port,” the man said.

  They did not know we had the Aphrodite.

  “What sculpture?” I asked. While my head was still a mess, I forced myself to focus.

  “Come now, Miss Stargazer. We know what you are up to,” he replied.

  “Perhaps she needs more motivation,” one of the henchmen said, and before we could react, he pulled his sidearm and fired, shooting Roni’s balloonman in the shoulder with startling accuracy. The man screamed and clenched his wound.

  “Do watch the burners. I’d hate for the ship to explode before Miss Stargazer gives us the information we need…oh yes and the kaleidoscope,” the man said. “Now, where is the courtesan?”

  We did not reply.

  The ringleader sighed. “We’ll be boarding your ship now, Lily. Do mind your manners. Signor Colonna, I suggest you lower your weapon. The five of us,” he said, motioning to his crew, “are all armed, and we’d hate to see you meet with an accident.”

  The five men boarded the Bacchus.

  “I’ll take that,” one of the men said, wrenching the gun from Sal’s hand.

  “Go below. Bring the galleyman up and find the courtesan,” their leader said. “Someone get the wounded bird out of the nest and tie him up,” he added, looking up at the burner basket.

  “Stay close,” Sal whispered to me.

  “Now, Lily, why don’t you be a good girl and pass me the kaleidoscope,” the ringleader said.

  I scanned the deck of the Bacchus. Celeste’s satchel had slid toward a storage hold.

  “All right. Let me get it for you.”

  “No games,” the man holding a weapon on Sal said, pushing his revolver into Sal’s ribs.

  “I wouldn’t dream of it,” I replied.

  I grabbed Celeste’s satchel and pulled out the kaleidoscope. I handed it to their leader. “I guess we’ll be parting ways now,” I said.

  “Ahh, but something tells me you might have information to share. Do you know where the sculpture is, Lily?”

  I heard Celeste grunting as the henchman yanked her and the galleyman, both with hands bound behind their backs, onto the deck. Celeste’s lip was bleeding. The galleyman came along quietly. I saw him scan the deck. He saw his crewmate, bleeding from the shoulder, sitting bound against the bulwark. He lowered his eyes and cooperated.

  “Ah, the lovely Celeste. How are you, dear?”

  “Go to hell,” she replied.

  “Mr. Holloway,” one of the henchmen said. “You should come below deck, Sir. There is something down there.”

  “Something? Be more specific.”

  “A crate, Sir.”

  “A crate?”

  “Large enough to hold a statue.”

  Holloway smiled at me. “Well done, Miss Stargazer. You’ve made it easy for me.” He and two of the Dilettanti henchman headed toward the galley. One guard kept a gun on Sal and me, another man guarded Celeste and Roni’s crewmen.

  “I’ve had enough of this,” Sal whispered.

  “I agree.”

  “Now.”

  Moving fast, Sal grabbed the gunman closest to us and knocked the weapon from his hand. I grabbed a wrench lying on the deck, and moving quickly, came up behind the henchman holding the gun on Celeste and slammed him in the back the head with the wrench. He went down with a screech. The others turned back and soon we were in a fray.

  Sal pulled the gun from the back of his pants, but before he could get off a shot, two men jumped him. They pushed him down on the deck. I reached out to help him but instead took a blow to the right cheek; my mouth filled with blood. I spat out a tooth. Celeste came up from behind. She tried to use her shoulders to push the man they called Holloway off the ship. He tossed her onto the deck like a ragdoll. I heard her head hit the deck of the Bacchus hard. I kicked one of the men pummeling Sal in the ribs, and he toppled over, clutching his side.

  “Someone knock that bitch out,” Holloway yelled.

  I turned in time to get clocked in the face. I heard my nose bone snap. I staggered backward. Blood sprayed from my nose.

  “Throw the Italian overboard,” Holloway commanded.

  “No!” I screamed and ran toward Sal. One of the henchmen grabbed me.

  “Sir? Sir! What is that!” one of the henchmen shouted urgently.

  “What are you talking about? Get some rope and tie Stargazer up.”

  One of them grabbed my arms, and I felt the burn of rope around my wrists.

  “That! Sir! Port!”

  “Sal!” I wailed as they began hauling Sal toward the side of the ship. I struggled against the man who held me, and then, in a desperate move, I shot my leg backward, kicking the henchman between the legs
. He groaned and went down.

  I ran toward one of the men dragging Sal toward the rail. I slammed into the henchman, knocking him onto the deck.

  “Sir! Sir! Port!” the henchman screamed again.

  This time we all looked. An enormous dark shape dropped from the clouds. It was like the hand of a god was descending upon us.

  “Oh my god,” one of the henchmen whispered.

  Everyone stared in wonderment as an enormous warship came out of the clouds and headed directly toward us. Its cannons gleamed in the dimming twilight. At once, I recognized the double-propelled war machine dubbed Hercules. And at its prow, I saw a poet.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  “George! George!” I screamed, fearful Byron would not recognize me or the ship.

  Hoping to silence me, Holloway hit me hard. I fell onto the deck of the ship.

  “Lily!” Sal called, reaching for me.

  A split second later, I heard a gunshot. Holloway fell onto the deck beside me; blood poured from a bullet hole between his eyes. His men scattered.

  I closed my eyes and sent out a silent prayer of thanks.

  “Lily! Lily? Are you all right?” I heard Byron call from the Hercules.

  I was now.

  “Here, let me help you up,” Sal whispered. His face was a bloody mess. He lifted me and helped me to the rail.

  “I’m okay,” I called to Byron.

  “Stay there. We’re coming. My crew has your new friends in their optics. I suggest no one moves.”

  The four remaining henchmen stood frozen as the Hercules came up alongside us.

  Byron signaled to his crewmates. They extended a plank between us and the Hercules. Byron was the first to cross over. Four young men, by their appearance I guessed them to be Greek, followed him. Byron took in the scene and directed his crew to watch the remaining henchmen.

  Byron took me by the chin, smoothing the hair away from my face, and looked me over. “My Lily,” he whispered.