by Michael Rigg
"Bryce, that plane! It's Thorne!" Lucien turned and ran out, Bryce following him, but it was too late.
The Thorne & Wolfe transport plane was already airborne and winging its way toward the rendezvous with Thorne's fleet in the Atlantic.
~~~~~~~
Of course Pandora had no intention of meeting Bryce and Alice back at Seven Orchards. She had other plans. She had to kill the ghoul who impregnated her with its filth.
As the stolen kite roared through the sky, belching a silver stream of exhaust as Pandora banked it toward the Atlantic, she filled her mind with thoughts of her father and mother. She knew there was a chance she wouldn't survive an assault against the King of Ghouls in the center of an Imperial fleet, but there wasn't much left for her to fight for anyway. She was going to give it her all.
She hated duping Bryce, though she spent her life doing just that. He was like a big brother to her and they used to joke around all the time, meeting at pilot's lounges where she would tease him about his engagement to the stuck-up Ms. McFerran, and he would tease her about being a short, snotty little brat.
But now the joking was over, those days were gone. The world had changed drastically in the last couple of days and now Pandora found herself in the cockpit of a stolen kite hell bent on a suicide mission to save the world.
She laughed as she thought about how ridiculous that sounded. "Me? Save the world?" I couldn't even save my own father. Twice. Glancing into the night sky above her, she added, "Hear that daddy? You and momma... you stick with me, okay?"
It was then that she cranked up the wireless box on the kite and placed a direct call to the ghoul himself.
~~~~~~~
Teivel Hearse stood on an open air gangway high above the Atlantic Ocean, the freezing wind whipping through his cloak and tossing his black tangled hair as he glared down at the water. He was growing to hate Bradford Thorne even more than he already did. Like Perek Grubbs and any other human he'd come across, Hearse was only using the man until he fulfilled his obligations as a tool, then he was going to have him for dinner. Literally.
But Thorne was becoming an unstable liability. Hearse had been locked in a trance, reaching out mentally to find his escaped bride when he suddenly realized he could no longer read Thorne's thoughts. So, the man either put two and two together and realized the weakness ghouls had against glass extended to its mental shielding properties, or one of Thorne's many female conquests had finally got the better of him.
After searching the airship from stem to stern and finding no sign of the man, Hearse concentrated his attentions on the other members of the crew. No need to look for an airship when its path casts ripples in the clouds. Jumping from mind to mind, he saw what they saw and quickly determined that Thorne had altered his orders to General Gehrels and had already moved to bring the key here. And, since he knew for a fact Thorne was no longer aboard the Victory, that left only one possibility.
The starry sky illuminated the Atlantic with silver crescents of light on its black surface, faint lines of phosphorescent foam churned around the fleet of ships far below. Hearse's eyes locked upon the Stravitskov, the lesser of the two submersibles, squatting in the water next to the aircraft carrier to which both submarines had been anchored. It came as no surprise that the Republic was gone.
~~~~~~~
“You work fast, Thorne,” Hearse muttered to the waves. In the few hours since they'd last spoke, the human managed to shield his mind, change his directive, and bring the woman here. Now, Hearse's erstwhile human counterpart was on his way to the richest treasure the universe had ever known.
"You will suffer slowly," Hearse cursed under his breath just as he sensed the cautious approach of the ship's purser. He cast his red eyes toward the man as the purser gingerly stepped out on the gangway, holding onto the railing with both hands as the salty night wind whipped around him. "What do you want?" The purser flinched. "Um... Sir, I have come at your call, sir."
"Ah yes," Hearse smirked. "I forgot. I tend to forget a lot of things these days." The purser didn't respond. He only glanced down to the ocean far below, turned as pale as the moon, and swallowed hard before closing his eyes and reminding himself not to look down again.
Hearse nodded toward the submarine below. "I need to get down there. Make that happen. Now." The purser swallowed again. "Sir, I believe the transport hovers to the fleet have been locked until morning at Mr. Thorne's—"
"I don't believe you heard me, juicy human." Hearse turned to face the purser and took a step toward him on the thin catwalk. "I said you will make that happen... now!"
Visibly trembling, caught between his fear of falling from the open accessway and his fear of the ghouls, the purser nodded and started to back away. "Y-Yes, sir. I-I'll see what I can do, sir."
"And be quick about it!"
"Y-Yes, sir."
As the purser turned to leave, his way was suddenly blocked by a young ship's officer who wasn't afraid of the open gangway. The blond boy jogged along the narrow catwalk, even along the lengths that had no guard rails, and stopped where the purser blocked his path. The kid called out, "Mr. Hearse, sir, there is a wireless for you."
Hearse turned and headed toward the roadblocked purser and the messenger. "Is it from Thorne? If it is, tell him—"
"It's from a lady, sir," the kid said as he shook his head. "She claims she's the...." The boy stopped, glancing to the nervous purser and beginning to share in the larger man's fear. "Um..."
"Out with it!" Hearse snapped as he stepped up behind the purser and clamped a hand on his shoulder. "Who is she?"
"She claims to be the mother of your child, sir."
Both the nervous purser and the boy stared at Hearse as his expression fell. His red eyes softened and his long face loosened as he pondered the possible meaning of such an unexpected contact. "You're certain?"
The boy nodded. The nervous purser glanced between the two and barely had time to draw a breath as Hearse's grip on his shoulder dug into his flesh through his coat. As the purser cried out in pain, Hearse lifted him single-handedly over the railing and dropped him into the ocean hundreds of feet below.
The kid raised his hands defensively and backed off a few steps before turning and running back inside. He was gone before the purser's screams ended in a bone-crushing splash.
Hearse followed him back to the wireless shack.
~~~~~~~
Bryce hadn't said another word to Lucien since they'd discovered Alice was taken. Instead, he sprinted back out to their plane and cranked up the engine. By the time the portly butler caught up to him, the plane was ready to taxi.
Lucien knew what was going through Bryce's mind. He'd seen the feelings in the man's eyes for Alice and had no doubt they were about to fly into the belly of the beast. There was only one problem.
They were flying into the belly of the beast.
Bradford Thorne's corporate muscle extended across the entire Empire. The chance that they'd encounter a single ship, airship or submarine was unlikely with something as big as Atlantis in front of him. Thorne would have an entire fleet—probably guarded by scores of troops, planes and warships—to protect his investment.
Once the plane was in the air, its engine whining at full throttle as Bryce banked toward the northeast, Lucien pulled his goggles over his spectacles and called out above the prop wash, "Captain! Captain, I don't mean to be the fly in your ointment, but have you considered exactly how we'd get through Thorne's line of defenses in order to rescue her? We can't simply fly into a nest of dragons!"
There was no answer, so Lucien leaned forward and tapped Bryce on the shoulder, shouting again. Bryce responded by tapping the earpiece on his pilot's cap, indicating that he couldn't hear.
Lucien sat back a
nd scowled. He knew Bryce heard him. He only hoped the man had a plan by the time they got to the fleet.
~~~~~~~
Teivel Hearse practically kicked open the door to the wireless shack aboard the Victory. The young radio operator jumped up from his seat, almost choking himself on the tangle of wires from the bulky headset he wore. He held out the headset to Hearse and backed into his partner, the young officer who had gone to fetch the ghoul for his radio message.
Hearse took the headset and pulled it on over his ears, then he adjusted the microphone with his left hand while he snapped the fingers of his right, pointing to the wireless and glaring at the operator to return to his seat and work the controls. "How do you operate this infernal—" Then he heard her voice.
"Hearse. It's Dorothea."
The veins popping in Hearse's neck, the deep purple color of his fuming skin, the ember glow of his red eyes, all subsided as he heard her voice. Of course he wasn't in love with the witch. He had used her. He used her to set a plan in motion that blossomed in his mind the moment he laid eyes on her. His feelings softened only because of the realization that his plan was falling back into his lap, Thorne or no Thorne. "My darling. Are you well?" It was the plan he spoke to adoringly, not the witch.
"Cut the bullshit, ghoul! I'm coming for you!"
Pressing the ear cups to his ears, Hearse glanced between the two radiomen, meeting their wide eyes as if they could hear what she had just said. They couldn't, of course, but their terrified expressions seem to fit Pandora's challenge. Turning slightly, so he wouldn't see them, Hearse said, "I know what you did. I know you killed them all."
"Just the beginning."
"It doesn't matter the power you think you have, my beloved, you cannot stand against me."
"I wouldn't put money on that."
Hearse scowled. "Where are you?"
"I'm in the air, and I'm on my way."
"Foolish girl, do you realize the stupidity of this errand upon which you're embarking."
"Yeah. And I'm doin' it anyway."
"Dorothea, listen, if you—"
"I'm going to end you, you monster!"
Hearse turned to the two radiomen and made a jerking motion with his head toward the door. The two young officers didn't waste a second, jumping and dashing out, shutting the heavy door behind them. Hearse sat in the wireless chair and spoke in a low voice, "Do you realize they'll shoot you down before you get within sight of this fleet?"
"Then if you ever want to see me—or your hell-spawn baby—I suggest you tell them to let me land."
"Dorothea! You—"
The sudden click and miles of air static told him she'd terminated the call.
Hearse pulled off the headset and dropped it on the wireless desk. Then, releasing a long exasperated breath, he ran his long-nailed fingers through his hair and thought quickly about what to do.
Standing and spinning on a heel, Hearse stormed out of the wireless shack, past the two scared officers, and rushed to the bridge of the Victory to speak with Admiral Terrace.
~~~~~~~
It took over an hour at full throttle to reach the fleet, but by the time Pandora arrived, Hearse had spread his orders throughout every airship and vessel that the approaching plane was to be allowed through the vanguard and have full access to the Victory.
Pandora's jaw dropped when she saw what Thorne and Hearse had done. No fewer than a dozen airships, many of them armed for war, floated in the air over the Atlantic ocean, the moon and starlight glowing off their surfaces making them look like fish suspended in a black and quiet sea. Far below, on the surface of the ocean, Pandora saw the fleet of ships forming a lighted ring; the entrance, she figured, to the city of Atlantis far below.
Banking directly toward the largest of the airships, she gunned the kite's engine. Figuring a squadron of fighters would burst out of the ship at any moment to shoot her down, she pressed forward with every intention of flying into the bridge of the Victory and bringing down the entire operation. As she imagined the airship falling on the seafaring fleet below, fire and metal raining down, Pandora felt an odd peace knowing that she will have killed Teivel Hearse and his demon seed with one stroke.
But, as she roared still closer with no squadron in sight, she changed her mind. At the last minute, already among the airships, Pandora banked hard to the right and swooped around the Victory. She was close enough to see the stunned faces on the ship's gunners, but they never fired a shot. Then she had another thought: Hearse did this. He wanted her to land so he could capture her, keep her safe so their baby could be born and raised to be the most horrific monster the world had ever known.
She decided to give him what he wanted.
Pandora knew she was strong enough to resist him this time, knew she was powerful enough to defend herself against swords and bullets, so she decided to risk the face-to-face confrontation and see his eyes when she killed him.
Running on pure fury and vengeance, the young witch turned her kite around and headed for the docking arms of the Victory.
~~~~~~~
Bryce and Lucien were still quite a distance from the Thorne & Hearse fleets, their plane vibrating madly as Bryce pushed the engine to its limits.
Lucien tried desperately, for the fourth time, to get his master's attention. "Bryce! I beg you to consider what you're doing! Think this through, man! If you fly us headlong into Bradford Thorne's military arm, you'll get us all killed—us and Alice! What good would it do! Bryce, you can't save her if you're dead!"
Still no answer.
"Bryce, have you considered that Atlantis is below the waves? How are you going to land this plane on a submersible?"
It was then that the engine finally idled down and Bryce turned his head slightly to acknowledge his butler and co-pilot.
Lucien pressed on. "We need a plan, Bryce."
Bryce thought about Pandora, thought about her winging her way to Seven Orchards. By the time she arrived, she'd learn that he, Lucien and Alice never made it home, that they were probably—as Lucien put it—in the belly of the beast.
So he couldn't call on her. He wouldn't. Bryce didn't want to put her in this kind of danger, especially not so soon after losing her father. There was no telling what a fired up witch would do. Over his shoulder, he called, "I'm open to suggestions, Lucien, or has all this yelling over hundreds of miles been to add exhaust to the air and nothing more?"
Lucien reached forward and clapped his Captain on the shoulder. He smiled brightly under his goggles. "Perhaps you can call Strong for reinforcements!"
"No," Bryce answered quickly with a head shake. "I can't! I pulled out every last favor just to get this plane! I can't hit Strong up again. I owe him too much already."
Lucien chewed his lip as he considered their next possible move. "Well, what if—?"
Bryce held up a hand, then tapped his ear cup after twirling his finger in the air, an indication that he was getting a call.
Lucien nodded. Their prayers would be answered after all. It was probably Strong on the wireless now, calling to let Bryce know that he was aware of the situation and that he was sending reinforcements....
Lucien's thoughts trailed off as he turned his eyes toward the sight that caught Bryce's attention.
~~~~~~~
"We have a visual on them, captain," the deck officer reported.
Everyone on the bridge of the HMS Independence wore a smart, dark-gray Confederate naval coat, with one exception.
The captain nodded to the officer and said, "Contact them by wireless and let them know we will follow their course, then notify the rest of the Lady's fleet."
"Aye, sir."
Captain Jordon turned to the Lady of Grace standing next to him and explai
ned, "Lady McFerran, we have located Captain Landry and are prepared to render assistance."
"Very good, captain. Have all ships prepare for combat. Prepare to launch fighter squadron escorts to aid Captain Landry."
Jordon nodded. "At once, my lady."
Lydia McFerran allowed herself a tight smile as she saw Bryce's small plane wag its wings in thanks.
~~~~~~~
As Bryce and Lucien's fighter revved up and pointed toward the Atlantic, Lucien looked over his shoulder and grinned at the awe-inspiring site of fourteen battle-ready Confederate airships and their escorting wings of battle kites.
"Guess the cavalry has arrived, Bryce!"
Eyes forward, Bryce Landry nodded. He hoped it would be enough to get Alice back.
CHAPTER 35, “Return to Atlantis”
The submarine pulsed, its rivets and plating puckering and pinging with each fathom into the depths we dropped, faster and faster with the churning and thumping engines. As we descended into the salty blackness, all I could do was hope and pray that I'd get through this alive, that Bryce would somehow find me—if he was still alive—and that Bradford Thorne would stop leering at me like some lecherous animal.
"Not hungry, my dear? You really should try to eat something. There's no telling how long this journey will last."
I had been removed from the bunk and re-tied to a chair at an ornate dark wooden table Thorne's goons brought in and set up. My left hand was free, though the coils of rope stretching between my neck and ankles still pulled tight and still threatened to strangle the life out of me if I moved too much or too quickly.
Thorne's men left after they re-wrapped me, then he came back into the room. I couldn't say why exactly, but the glass helmeted corporate mogul remained hidden out in the hall any time I was moved or re-tied. Maybe he was afraid of me. Maybe rumors of my skill as a martial artist, if indeed I really was, preceded me. Whatever the case, he only made himself visible around me if he was sure I was secured.
