by Michael Rigg
"What's wrong? Still backwards?" I looked down at the dark blue trousers and frowned. The buttons lined the front, and the pants were a little baggy, but otherwise I was clothed. I pulled my hair back and tied it with a ribbon I found in a box of string and ribbons on a shelf nearby.
Pandora shook her head slightly. "Do... Do ya feel... okay? I mean... Does your back hurt or do ya feel anything... weird? You sick?"
I frowned. The childish behavior from moments ago was gone. Pandora's face seemed aged somehow, worn and experienced beyond her apparent teenaged years. I slowly shook my head and offered a smile. "I'm ...fine. I mean... apart from still not knowing who I am, or where I—." I shook my head. Then something she said clicked and made me blink. "My back? Why?"
The girl took a tentative step toward me as though suddenly afraid I'd run. She chewed her lower lip as if considering something dreadful. Shaking her head slightly, she said, "I think we should get back. Let Bryce take a look at ya." Her smile was terse before she turned for the door.
"Wait." I reached out without touching her to stop her from leaving, sidestepping to block the door. "What's wrong? Why did you say that about my back?"
"You're fine," she blurted, and quickly pushed past me and out into the back room where Bryce and the others waited.
I grabbed Bryce's gray coat and followed her. I nearly tripped on the oversized shoes she'd given me, cursing silently to myself.
I was certain Bryce and the others would laugh at me as soon as they saw me, but instead I was met by more peculiar reactions as I stood with Bryce's coat folded over my arm.
The little man, Wilco, barely looked up from his pipe as Pandora hopped up on the desk to sit next to him. She whispered into his ear causing him to glance warily in my direction with a slight cough of what may have been surprise.
Lucien looked at me with a broad smile. He gave me a quick look up and down and touched the brim of his bowler in a respectful salute. "A proper dress would have been nicer, but... yes, I suppose it will suffice. Rustic, but most genteel on you, err Alice." This was the same man who tried to kill me only an hour ago.
Bryce stared, his mouth slightly open, his eyes lingering on my face. "Alice, my dear lady," he said, "You look lovely."
Everyone in the room turned their attention to the Captain, all of them matching my own expression at Bryce's apparent poor vision. Pandora was the one who vocalized their faces.
"You're nuts. She looks like a dogsbody! I should know. I found the clothes."
I frowned at her. "Dogsbody?"
"An old term for a valet's valet," Lucien huffed, casting a spurious glance to Pandora, “A lower officer in the Royal Navy who does the drudgery of higher officers.”
“Oh. Thanks,” I said, with a shrug and smirk at my own appearance.
Bryce laughed slightly and approached me, offering his hand to guide me over a box of sewing clutter. "It's simply good to see you in something other than this horrendous woolen bag," he said, taking his coat from me and offering what I had to admit was a charming smile.
"Well," Lucien said with some finality as Bryce sat down on a box beside me. The butler clapped his hands on his knees and said, "I suppose what we need to do now is get this young lady home to Seven Orchards so that we can see what we can learn about her."
I shot him a glance. “You don’t believe I’m a witch anymore?”
Bryce said, “You’ve been cleared by our resident Witchteller.” Pandora looked to Wilco who huffed a smoky laugh.
Pandora and I said it at the same time: “Witchteller?” Only mine was a question. Hers was an accusation.
Bryce quickly answered, shooting the young girl a pointed glare. “My good friend Wilco here told Lucien that you were exactly what ya claimed you weren’t.”
I looked to the little man. How did he know? Was it true, or is this some kind of cover story or diversion to throw water on Lucien? I doubted that they’d be able to tell if I was some kind of sleeper agent for this Thorne & Wolfe company, if indeed, that were the truth to all this.
I glanced from person to person. Pandora's eyes hadn't left me and it seemed Wilco was avoiding me for the most part since Pandora whispered in his ear. Lucien was addressing the room, and Bryce....
I noticed Bryce was staring at me, his eyes twinkling in the lamp and firelight, a tender smile on his face. I reared back slightly, my forehead scrunching at this change in his attention from curious about my situation to curious about me. We locked there for a moment. I stared into his deep brown eyes trying to figure out what had changed, his shining warmth actually making me feel calmer, protected, peaceful.
"Bryce! Pay attention, Cap'n."
Pandora's shout made everyone jump. Lucien, in the process of snuffing his pipe, stood up. "Indeed. We should get to the bridge."
"Whoa," Wilco grumbled. "What'sa point of takin' her all the way to the Orchards? We got access to the Philly library right here. We got Pandy's plane."
The girl, still staring at me, elbowed him.
Wilco continued after a short 'oof' from the rib poke. "I'm sure we can find a thinkin’ machine 'round here connected to A and E, and Bryce, you got yer Corporate Ident. Why all the way to the Orchards? Ain't that a might far from where ya found her? What if she got folks lookin' for her?"
I understood barely a fraction of that, but I looked to Bryce for his answer.
Bryce finally broke his gaze from me and studied Wilco. It was my turn to study Bryce, size up his profile, catch the honesty in his face when he spoke about me to someone else.
"It's simple," he began, "We found her at Thorne & Wolfe. We know she's not a witch." He tipped his head slightly to Wilco, "Thank ya, kind sir. And no. There was no one on hand to claim her, that's certain. I fear her memory loss could be a screen of some kind."
There it was. A screen. I knew it. Maybe I am a sleeper agent. Oh, dear God, I hope it’s not true. They all seem so nice, so protective and curious—especially Bryce.
Bryce looked at me, a trace of sadness in his eyes. "I hope it's not true." He turned back to Wilco, also casting a glance Lucien's way, "But she could be a sleeper. I suppose we gotta consider that as well."
Lucien pointed, an Ah ha! look on his face. He started to say something, but Bryce held up a hand to stop him. The portly butler's accusations had apparently caused enough distress in his master's son.
I opened my mouth to speak and only stammered. I decided to play dumb to see if what I imagined was reality in this place and time. "What's a sleeper?" I asked, mostly to Pandora since the girl was still drilling holes in me with her squinty little eyes.
Wilco said, "Why the hell would T.W. hire a sleeper agent? Weren't you about to sign over the Atlantic claim?"
"He was," Lucien chimed in, "But the contract kept financial control of the lands with Landry Holdings in exchange for open sea passage to the European Consolidation and Confederate business ventures overseas. Without the signature, Thorne can claim default and the Empire can squat on the land, the whole kit and caboodle. We will still maintain control on the sea lanes, but they're worthless compared to what's below them. There are dozens of passages to the E of C."
Bryce gave Lucien a look. He nodded slightly, showing signs that he was finally understanding what the butler had been trying to tell him all this time. The look also said, It's too late now, my friend. We have to go with what we got.
"The Empire can go squat, all right," Pandora sneered, again, still staring at me as if in a daydream now. She dug a dirty finger between two of her teeth trying to pick free a piece of tobacco.
I looked down at my vest again, pulled at the collar of my ruffled shirt. The voice, Pandora’s voice, seemed to come from between my ears rather than across the room.
Where'd
you get them marks on your back?
"What?"
Thinking I was responding to the girl's voice instead of the one in my head, Bryce looked at me. "Ignore her, Alice. Pandora has a long-standing hatred for the Empire. It's unhealthy and gets her into too many scraps with Imperial pilots."
"As do we all," Lucien said with a dramatic shake of his fist, "But I doubt the Empire had anything to do with..."
His voice trailed off as I thought back to the voice in my head that wasn't mine.
That's right. It's me, Pandora.
I looked at her as she said her name. Her lips weren't moving. "How—?"
Sssh! Don't ask stupid questions. Just answer in yer head. I can hear ya, for Pete's sake! How'd you get them marks on your back?
Bryce, Lucien and Wilco debated amongst themselves about me and where I came from, and though I tried to listen, my mind was sucked into an echo chamber where all I could hear was Pandora's voice in my head. I had no time to comprehend it. And, I had no idea what she was talking about.
I mouthed the words, “What marks?”
Just think it. Don't say it. And don't ask questions, Alice—or whatever the hell your name is. You mean to tell me you don't even remember gettin' them?
I sat up, arching my back and reached behind me, pretending to scratch my back as I untucked the gusseted shirt and felt around. There they were, three small bumps, like braille, forming a straight line over my left kidney. I frowned. They were sore to the touch, raw and hot like a sunburn feels. Pandora must have peeked when I was getting dressed.
How bad are they? They hurt, I thought to her. What are they?
So you don't know? Pandora asked in my mind. Her 'voice' was more tender, almost sad. I looked at her and saw her watching me, her legs crossed at the knee, her hands folded on top of them with the fingers of her left hand crossed.
Should I? I swear, I don't know anything about any of this. How would I know how I hurt my back? Maybe it's how I lost my memory! If I was—
You didn't hurt your back. That was done to you.
But—
Sorry.
"Alice?" Bryce was gently shaking my shoulder. He, Lucien and Wilco were adding to Pandora's stares at me.
"Hmm?" I forced myself away from the girl's eyes. "I'm sorry, Bryce. What—?"
Concern flashed Bryce's features for only an instant. "Wilco wondered if you'd had any bad dreams that you recall, any odd feelings or illness."
I shook my head slightly, keeping my eyes off Pandora now and glancing nervously around the room instead. "Sorry, Bryce. No. No, I don't remember any dreams or anything...." I arched my back again and gently touched the sore spot I hadn't realized was there, and even though he and Lucien both saw me naked, neither one had the chance to see my bare back. "But I do—"
Pandora sat up straight. "She coulda been dropped off!"
Everyone looked at her. I closed my mouth. Her sudden shout was meant to silence me before I mentioned the sores on my back. But why?
"Well, yes, that is a possibility as well," Lucien bumbled, "but that only begs more questions. Who? Then why? And how could they have performed such an act without being seen?"
Wilco muttered, "Curious."
It was then that my stomach grumbled noisily and I felt my first strong pangs of hunger. It was loud enough for the now-quiet room to pick up on. I could feel the heat in my face as a blushed and pressed my palm into my stomach.
"Oh dear," Bryce frowned. "We never really considered how long Alice must've gone without food." He turned to me and offered a smile, "We should get you somethin' to eat, my dear."
I started to nod as Pandora hopped down from the desk and patted Wilco on the knee. Wilco said, "There's a sweetshop just up the landing. They got sandwiches and soups there too."
Lucien eyed the kettle and pointed to it as Wilco climbed down off the desk. "No tea?"
The little old man winked at the butler and held his hands out, palms up. "I like the appearances, but don't trust the water ‘round ‘ere."
"Oh," Lucien twitched his mustache and got up to join Bryce and I as we stood. "So, the sweetshop then? We could get some tea, perhaps find a scrap for Alice? Find some tasty enjoyment this evening."
Pandora pursed her lips and made a rude sound in Lucien's direction. The butler shot her a glance before turning to Bryce, then she stuck her tongue out at him when he looked away.
Bryce pulled a pocket watch from his uniform pocket and looked at the time. "It's half past now. What time does the next bridge charge up?"
Wilco said, "Half hour. May be enough time to feed yer girl there and get up to the platform. Pandy and I can run ahead and meet ya there. I'll have documents for her to use, mark her as a haberdasher's assistant."
Bryce nodded with an air of authority. "All right, then. We'll catch up with y'all at the station."
"Wait," I said just as we all started to move. Everyone looked at me. Pandora raised an eyebrow suspiciously. She looked like she wanted to hit me. "I want to talk to Pandora first. Alone."
Bryce nodded though his brow furrowed slightly with an unasked question. Lucien and Wilco exchanged glances before looking at me, then her.
“Girl stuff,” I quickly added. I figured it was the perfect ploy since she and I were the only girls in the group.
"No," Pandora smirked. "Gotta get to my bird." Then she turned and bolted out the back door with Wilco on her heels.
I shouted in my mind, No! You have to help me! What does it mean? What happened? If you know something—
No! Nevermind. It's nothin'. You probably fell or something.
That's not true and you know it! Why are you afraid?
Because, Alice, I'm sorry. But you ain't never goin' home.
Wha—?
Never.
CHAPTER 8, “Sparks over Philadelphia”
The Tesla Bridge stood as a network of towers stretched around the world, each topped with a copper cone piercing the lowest clouds at over 2,000 feet. An electrical field pulsed from tower to tower, strong enough to propel a metal skinned SkyTrain thousands of miles across the upper atmosphere. A trip that would take hours, or even days by airship, took only minutes by SkyTrain.
Passengers for the 8 p.m. SkyTrain out of Philadelphia lined the iron walkways outside the Philadelphia Tesla Depot on the 109th floor of the United Electric building downtown. Most were dressed opulently in the styles of those who could afford transit on a SkyTrain though there were many in middle class attire who joined them as well, having scrimped and saved to take that family vacation or overseas transit in luxury.
For Bryce, Alice and Lucien, the SkyTrain was the most sensible option considering the distance they had to travel, and Bryce's growing suspicion that they may be followed. Since SkyTrains traveled on invisible "tracks" thousands of feet above ground, it would be relatively impossible for anyone to follow them unless they were on the train with them. That's why Bryce left Alice and Lucien in the sweetshop while he ran on ahead to meet Wilco and Pandora.
Perek Grubbs, of course, knew all of this. The spy network he had established through Frederick Denk's goon squad paid off in spades. A man outside the sweetshop signaled another on a balcony who sent a wireless message to Grubbs' wrist wireless.
"Landry was alone?"
"Correct. Seemed to be in a hurry," the voice crackled from Grubbs' wrist.
"What about the Property with the servant?" Grubbs got all he could from the Corporal at the Landing, the fact that Landry reported he was traveling with Property he'd won in a wager. But Grubbs knew that was a lie because Thorne had been observing Bryce since his arrival in New Yorke yesterday. There wasn't time for a gambling party. So, the mystery was even larger than he'd suspected, and he saw this as an
opportunity to make his move. Grubbs also knew that Landry Holdings was sitting on something big in the North Atlantic, something his bosses at Thorne & Wolfe wanted, something worth protecting. So why would Bryce Landry just give it up?
"Property and servant are both still in the restaurant called Spoilery, Mr. Grubbs."
"Good work. Let me know if they move."
"Yessir."
"You and Willis move to the boarding platform in ten minutes. Wait for my orders before taking Landry or his party."
"Yessir, Mr. Grubbs."
Making sure the .38 pistol was snug in the front of his trousers, Grubbs unbuttoned his jacket and made his way down the suspended alley toward Spoilery''s back door. The rain let up as the night settled in. Gas lamps hissed and buzzed over his head as his feet clanked along on the walkway high over the back streets of Philadelphia.
~~~~~~~
"Is it scary?" Alice asked Lucien after swallowing another bite of her ham and tomato on croissant sandwich. They had taken a small table near the back of the establishment, between the kitchen and the small corridor to the bathrooms and fire escape. The front of the sweetshop included a dozen or so tables and booths, all decorated and trimmed in wine-colored leather and chrome. Four girls worked behind Spoilery's bar and, Alice noted, all wore long dresses and sleeves despite the heat of the kitchen. They kept their hair tucked up under bonnets.
A small empty plate with a few scone crumbs and a teacup sat before the butler. Lucien, his attention focused on the handful of patrons in the shop, tugged at his mustache as he raised an eyebrow. "Not at all, my dear. A SkyTrain is like a freight on the ground, except quiet as a whisper." He stifled a yawn and blinked away watery eyes. "Be nice to get some sleep after the day we've had."
Alice nodded and took another bite of her sandwich. Lucien sipped his tea.
