by Amy Braun
I cradled his head as he spluttered and gurgled blood.
It seems he too had an epiphany in that moment. Perhaps knowing he was about to be judged on how he lived his mortal life had an effect on him. I’ll never know. I only know he said two things. One, he asked my forgiveness. For the first time in my life, and with the support of the good Captain, I gave it. Secondly, he revealed it was not the Captain and his pirate crew this mysterious person sought, it was me.
Wednesday 26th April
Last night’s developments, the terrible loss of life, and the anticipation that someone may arrive any moment looking for me has left my nerves wrecked.
Did anyone see his flare? Who is interested in me? Why?
All I want to do is be with the Captain, but early this morning his airship sailed off. I don’t know where he’s gone. I’m worried about him.
Thursday 27th April
Right, I understand the whole “absence makes the heart grow fonder” adage. I do understand it. I don’t like it though. There is an emptiness within me. He needs to come back. I need him back. I wonder if he feels the same way? I don’t care. To know him, to be with him is enough. I just want him to come back to me.
Friday 28th April
Captain Hawk has returned. His automated self held a meeting with his most trusted advisors. Knowing that the real man was tucked away from that gathering I went to him and—propriety be damned—I hugged him for what seemed an age.
I looked into his eyes and I knew he felt just as I did. Tears welled in both of us. Tears of joy.
No news can dampen my happiness at his return, but the information brought back has come close. The person seeking me is my brother. The Captain has called in favors and gathered intelligence. It seems my brother fears what I may say in public about him. We have learnt he has gone into politics and is concerned how I may tarnish his reputation amongst fellow ministers and the public at large.
The outcome of the meeting is that the rescues from the asylums will temporarily halt whilst we move location.
I understand now that we are in the English Channel, not far from the Isle of Wight. It seems arrangements have been in place to move to another location for some time anyway. I very nearly wrote down where, but I think I’ll not do that on the chance someone else may one day read this. We do good work, good secret work, and keeping it secret allows it to continue.
The plan is to leave the day after tomorrow.
Sunday 30th April
Moving day.
The most vulnerable left yesterday. Today, the last of us set off with the remainder of the supplies. I travel on the Captain’s ship, the Argonaut.
We had to delay leaving for a short while, as a terrible storm made it unsafe to set off.
By early evening, the winds had died down and the lashing rain had eased. The ropes were untied and the final three ships crept from their harbors and swept into the clouds.
We did not see our attackers. We heard them. The boom of cannon fire pierced the silent skies.
I stayed close to the Captain and watched as he expertly guided his airship around to meet the assailants. There appeared to be only one vessel, larger than ours—slower moving, but infinitely more muscular in appearance.
Our ship weaved its way against the wind. As we came alongside the enemy, we fired three harpoons into their hull. With ropes attached, winches dragged our vessel next to theirs until metal and wood groaned as the two hulls met.
Rather than being taken by surprise, our foes hungrily leapt aboard. That was their first mistake. If they had looked to their feet they would have seen the metal mesh all along the decking. A flash of light confirmed the electric current running through it. The smell of singed flesh, and the sight of hopping men confirmed that the first invaders were barefoot, and they quick-stepped back to their own ship.
Three men, obviously different, obviously in charge, arrived on board. Their boots insulated them from the effects of the electrified deck. The Captain’s avatar engaged them. He held two sabres, and launched into a fluid, purposeful volley of attacks.
The three men seemed unperturbed by the sight before them. They surrounded the automaton and engaged him with pistols and swords.
Feints, thrusts and parries seemed to go on for an age. I was careful not to distract the Captain, allowing him to concentrate on his maneuvers. I was soon aware that the battle was being drawn out. I could see in the distance the other vessels from our fleet had already gotten away. I whispered this fact to the Captain.
Immediately, out on deck, his avatar’s attack became fiercer, as he sought to end the fight. He crossed his arms against his chest, and then, swinging both arms apart in a broad outward slash of his blades, he took out two of the aggressors. They were not dead, but injured enough to stop fighting.
A new attacker seemed to arrive from nowhere with an axe. The automaton leapt forward to avoid his hacking stroke, realizing too late that it was the cables linking it to the Captain that were the true target.
Our metal protector stopped in his tracks. His connection to the Captain severed, he stood still now, no different to an empty suit of armor in a museum.
The axe man returned to his ship. The unwounded gentleman who had been engaged in the sword fight stepped into the accommodation where the Captain and I waited.
As he pulled back the curtain and removed his hat, I saw that it was my brother. I had thought long about what I might say or do, but in his presence I found myself both silent and frozen with fear.
He smiled at me and moved closer. The smell of him made a thousand bad memories flood back into my mind. Still I was immobile.
He did not speak as he drew a small dagger and moved toward my Captain. I threw myself atop my love and held him, whilst I waited for the blade to pierce my body. I looked deep into those beautiful eyes. There was no need for words between us.
He blinked frantically, as if trying to speak to me. I realize now that he was still operating systems.
I briefly heard my brother scream. I only know that I found myself cocooned within a pod with the Captain, ejected from the airship. Wings, of a sort, unfolded from each side of us and we silently rode the wind’s breath.
As I looked back, I saw the Argonaut explode. The blast would have killed all on board. The remains of the airship fell toward the sea, dragging what was left of the harpooned enemy ship down with it.
I cried for the death of my brother. Cried for the kind boy I’d once known, not the cruel man he had become.
Our pod glided like a bird, until we eventually—with even a little grace—splashed into the dark waters below.
I believe my Captain had it planned all along. Why else would he have my journal with him, if not that I might carry on writing here?
Monday 1st May
We were rescued by our own people a few hours after we splashed down. At no time did I fear drowning or death. I simply held my love in my arms and gazed into his eyes.
We’ve arrived at our new location and it is stunning. There are facilities to help people, facilities to help people help themselves.
My Captain has a new automaton to use. This one is just as fierce—it even has an eye-patch. I think I may be the wrong person to judge how intimidating he appears. I feel a strong affection for the splendid contraption.
I wondered what was going on, since he sent the machine back to the engineers for several hours. Our French comrade, Edouard, later told me that the Captain had asked for its vocabulary to be enhanced. It seems there were certain words he had never expected to utter.
Tuesday 2nd May
My love and I are aboard our new airship, en route to a church.
Those new words he wanted added to the automaton went like this, “I love you. Will you marry me?”
My heart feels like it is going to explode with joy.
I’m finished with this journal now. It covers a portion of my life, a chapter if you will, that has now ended. I don’t need it any longer. I�
�m going to throw it overboard in a moment.
If you read this, neither of us need your pity or care for your judgments. We simply are two souls that were meant to be together and we need no other approval.
Adieu.
Maiden Voyage
by Jeffrey Cook and Katherine Perkins
All indications were that Emily’s career was really going somewhere. The invitation to perform aboard the Sky-Dancer—the newest, biggest, and most luxurious airship of its kind—on its inaugural voyage had come as a surprise. It also made the trip from Milan to Paris for an upcoming engagement a lot easier. Getting paid to make the journey, instead of paying for it, was a significant bonus.
The launch had been made with no small amount of fanfare. The ship’s creators had spared no expense in building the luxury cruiser itself, nor in promoting it. There was music and speeches, and the bottle of champagne that had been broken over the hull at the christening would have cost a year of Emily’s pay when she worked with the traveling show. And there was the program billing in shiny embossed letters: Performances by Emily Carew, the Living Doll!
During the first afternoon, Emily had the opportunity to work with her tiny support corps of dancers—while reveling in the fact she had a support corps of dancers. After years of dancing her own variations on ‘L’espièglerie de Swanhilde’ for people who didn’t know who Swanhilde was, she now had more options, more production opportunity. While none of the wind-up toy costumes were quite as authentic as the Living Doll’s, with the leg braces that allowed her to continue to walk and dance after her accident and the fine threads of copper that had replaced a good portion of her hair, the costumes were still elaborate, and good imitations. The girls were also pretty good imitators, able to keep up as a background to Emily, even if they didn’t quite mimic the mechanical as well. Despite the all-too-brief chance to rehearse, they were picking up her routines and moves well.
#
Luca rested against the side of the ship. That most of the rich guests aboard the ship avoided her suited her fine. She’d done all right for herself and Emily, working mercenary assignments as they traveled, ever since she bought out her dancer’s contract from the show to which medical bills had indentured her. This, however, was a different level of fancy entirely. Even without her cavalryman’s cuirass, and wearing fancy gentleman’s clothing instead of her usual canvas trousers, Luca didn’t feel like she belonged, and the feeling was obviously mutual. The heavy scarring across her face, and the dark leather eye-patch secured directly to her skull certainly didn’t help matters any. Still, Emily had been insistent with the recruiters: either Luca had a staff berth on the luxury ship, or Emily wouldn’t be dancing for them. Luca had even offered to join the ship’s security detail for the voyage, but the recruiter took one look at her and politely declined.
The security guards that she had seen were, in fact, mostly quite a bit prettier than she. They were all armed, at least, but she wasn’t sure she’d call it well armed. The pistols were reasonably imposing, but she was pretty certain, based on the decor, that most of those ceremonial swords had never been out of their sheaths.
The security men were universally polite and approachable, in their freshly cleaned uniforms, but she wouldn’t swear to the military backgrounds of most of them. While she wasn’t permitted to carry them, she made sure she knew precisely where her own old cavalry sword and guns were being stored, just in case.
#
The time came at last for Emily’s first performance aboard the airship. She waited calmly behind the curtains, already rising en pointe with a hiss of valves, as she preferred to be ready before the show began, not as the curtains were opening, and to never show audiences real signs that she was anything but what her title suggested. Taking their cue from her, the rest of the dancers took their positions several seconds before the red curtains parted.
#
Luca had initially been poised to argue with the people handling the seating. Emily was her girl, after all. She thought better of it, for risk of disrupting the show, and managed to settle herself without too much rancor over their efforts to make her as invisible as possible at the back of the room.
The curtains opened, with Emily turning gracefully on her toes, spinning clockwise in contrast to the array of other made-up dolls, twirling counter-clockwise all about her. The graceful dancers became significantly less-so, however, when the ship lurched, then briefly tilted sideways, scattering dancers and audience alike.
Luca managed to grab onto the doorway, keeping herself upright as things devolved into chaos. As the ship righted itself, she raced out the door, heading above decks to see what was causing the problem. The top deck was even more chaotic.
Security was fighting a desperate battle, firing across the gap between themselves and a lighter, faster craft, attached to the Sky-Dancer by boarding hooks, with the first of the airship pirates braving the gaps to engage the luxury liner’s forces in melee. Though she had to admit that the blue-clad security forces were holding their own better than she’d have given them credit for, it didn’t look like they were going to last long. Similarly, she was pretty sure she wasn’t going to last very long in a firefight wearing a gentleman’s suit and no weapons, so she raced for the cargo hold.
#
Two security officers ran into the theater room, closing and barring the doors, guns out. They spoke rapidly with the captain, who had attended the show, and now appeared half-panicked. The rest of the ship’s officers weren’t looking much more composed. Emily scanned the room for Luca, but even though her companion tended to stand out, she saw no signs of her. If there was a problem that had the officers so worked up, she kind of preferred it that way, trusting that, if there was trouble, they were better off with Luca out in it, instead of barricaded in the room.. She made her way over to the small group of officers, and no one objected as she listened to the news.
“They’ll kill us all,” the captain was whispering loudly, as she arrived.
“Who?” she demanded, looking to the security officers, not the captain.
“Pirates,” one answered.
“Pirates? In this day and age?” she asked.
“We’d thought them cleared out some time ago, but obviously they were either laying low, or some got missed. We’d never have launched, or at least would have hired on more security if we’d have thought there was any chance of this,” he answered.
Emily frowned. “Your security’s understaffed?”
“Well, you see...” started the captain, before the security officer answered.
“More security on hand means less room for guests.”
“Wonderful,” Emily said with a sigh. “But they won’t kill the people here if we handle this right.”
The others looked at her quizzically. “Miss Carew,” the captain said. “These people are more than capable of murdering hundreds for a few of the place settings, much less for the whole ship!”
Emily laughed. “I’ve seen the guest list. If some of these people are killed, their families—if not their whole countries—will pay a fortune to hunt down the murderers. Or they’d pay at least the same to get them back alive. Their ransoms are worth far more than the ship, and a few highly placed hostages will be more useful than things they can’t fence without leaving a trail. Trust me, just stay calm, and we’ll be all right.”
The captain looked at her dubiously. “You know a lot about pirates.”
She looked back at him evenly. “I danced for the first passengers of the Orient Express. You may have heard what happened there. I have some experience.”
She didn’t bother mentioning that the ‘young man’ she traveled with was an ex-soldier turned mercenary. She didn’t think that would help much. Regardless, the pair of security guards took her suggestions, working to calm everyone down.
#
Luca reached the cargo hold where they’d placed her weapons. While normally there was some type of watch posted here, whoever it was
had obviously gone to investigate the disturbance. The door was securely locked, but the fourth time she put her shoulder into it, the hinges gave way, giving her access to the room. Luca frantically searched for her things, eventually finding the steamer trunk she shared with Emily, though she had to unbury it. By the time she’d uncovered it and collected her guns and the well-used cavalry saber, she heard voices in the hallway.
#
The doors to the theater held for a time. Eventually, however, someone on the other side shot out the lock, almost starting a new panic in the room. A tall, white-bearded man in mix-and-match finery entered first, followed by a few less opulently-dressed members of his pirate crew. Though the two security guards had their guns readied, apparently, Emily’s suggestions had gotten their attention enough that they surrendered at once instead of firing and sacrificing themselves against the significant number of pirates.
“Where’s the captain of this ship?” the pirate leader demanded. “He’ll show himself and turn over control of this ship, or we’ll see if we can’t find a plank for some of this lot to walk.” He grinned like he’d just made a great joke, showing off a mouth as mismatched as his wardrobe, with a blend of teeth, gold, and gaps. The crew took the cue, laughing along.
“I...I’m the captain,” the Sky-Dancer’s skipper offered. “We surrender. You don’t need to kill anyone. Let’s just talk about this. I’m sure...I’m sure that the people here would offer up quite a substantial reward if you just let us go.”
“And how would we go about collecting that?” the pirate responded. “We can negotiate later, when you all start writing home and we figure out who might be worth what.”
#
Three pirates noticed the broken-down cargo door, and entered the room cautiously. Luca cursed herself for not finding some better way in and ducked down behind the steamer trunk.
She didn’t dare open fire, for fear of drawing more attention, so she left her gun at her belt and waited, listening to the voices as they coordinated their search of the room. As soon as two of them were close by, with the third working on the opposite side of the room, she stood and attacked.
