Dawn of Steam: Gods of the Sun

by Jeffrey Cook

  For now, there is no reassurance, no leadership, simply a realization of what must be done so that any of us will even have the choice to possibly return home again. I wonder, when that time comes, and choice is mine, will I wish to return, as I have thought of so much, or will Sir James somehow make us a company of adventurers again, out for something greater than ourselves? I cannot imagine that even he could do so, especially as much as he has been diminished in the minds of so many of our troop.

  At least for that last matter, I have found reconciliation in my own mind. The burden of leadership is a heavy one. That Sir James was not the leader in the field everyone thinks does not diminish the decisions he made, the guidance he gave, or his reassurance to young men, some of whom would never return. While he was not at the front as he claimed, his inspiration was no less. He has also been calm under fire in my company, standing up to the possibility of death without a metal suit protecting him, so I cannot doubt his courage. And while the armor may have been the reason he caught the attention of this Shogun of Japan, England still agreed to allow him to undertake the mission for his skill as a leader and diplomat.

  I also understand why they did not tell us, any more than they told the men whom he fought alongside. Even had she been permitted to take the field, there would have been those who refused to work with her or let her lead, especially in the beginning. They have had to prove themselves, and even now, having seen all she can do, both in combat, and her ability to restore the suit to working order with Harriet's assistance, I still have difficulty seeing the prim and proper Miss Coltrane as a seasoned war veteran.

  I would say that this attitude is natural, but perhaps it is simply normal, which I begin to realize may not be the same thing. Had I not met Miss Bowe and seen all she has done, I imagine it would be even harder to accept now. I think I now also understand some part of Miss Coltrane's occasional dislike for Miss Bowe. In her, she sees the things she has most craved: not simply adventure, but an ability, somehow, to refuse to bow to society. Miss Bowe has forged her own path as Miss Coltrane has never done publicly. But, of course, Miss Coltrane also enjoys the benefits of wealth and society in a way Miss Bowe never has and never will.

  At present, so far as I can tell, we are in Miss Bowe's world. She takes no apparent joy in what we are now doing, but also shows no discomfort in her duties, stalking silently through the trees and fields and ending all resistance in our path. Likewise, she seems quite at home in camping in this foreign territory and seems to know how to stretch our supplies and forage for food and water here just as in the colonial frontier. Though I still cannot see any possibility of truth due to the sheer breadth of his stories, I have to wonder what sort of man Dr. Bowe was that he raised such a child.

  Eddy, in the meanwhile, is simply Eddy. He takes the field, completely stoic and businesslike, with no hesitation to do whatever it takes to complete the task he is given. In some ways, this is a better mood for him than the silence that followed Sir James's disappearance and the announcement from Miss Coltrane. I should very much dread being York right now if Eddy is the first to reach him, which seems entirely likely, for he is both quite capable and very motivated. At the same time, I am very unsure right now if I would wish to be Sir James, should Eddy be the first to reach him.

  From the journals of Gregory Conan Watts,

  March 5th, 1816

  Peru

  13º09'11” S 72º31” W

  We have found their base and discovered new problems. They are well fortified, with no obvious weak points. Though in ruins, the city still provides them significant cover. Either there are multiple levels, or the floor has collapsed in places. They also have most of the high ground by merit of holding the city, which makes finding points where Eddy might set up especially difficult. They have multiple rocketry platforms, so we cannot easily drop in on them, and we need to explore further before we can be certain how stable the ground is in any case. It is quite possible that the battle suit would collapse more of this ancient city.

  Miss Penn has been pleased in having the opportunity to study the city, even from this distance, but otherwise, we have found little from this vantage point. Eddy and Miss Bowe have been taking turns scouting further and further afield, now that we have found a camp where we do not believe we will be seen. We must find a way to reach their camp without making ourselves vulnerable. It is getting closer and closer to the point where it will be decided we must try one of the sheer rock faces if we are to reach them.

  It is little surprise they would have set up so well. I am also spending this time studying all the notes I took regarding York's tactics and tendencies. I hope we might find that place where he has overextended himself in this case, so we might exploit it. Without anything to react to, and with the advisors he has, I am entirely uncertain how helpful that information might be. He has an edge on all of us in command experience. So far, we also have not seen Sir James. He is likely still aboard their craft, which is even more easily guarded, unless they had cause to bring him to the site.

  No one said this was going to be easy. Now, after all the traveling and rush to get here, it seems we just need to marshal our patience a little bit longer.

  From the journals of Gregory Conan Watts,

  March 7th, 1816

  Peru

  13º09' S 72º32'18” W

  The means of our entry was provided by an unexpected source. While shielded from above, our campsite was discovered by one of the natives. While hostile at first, they calmed significantly when Miss Bowe spoke to them in the local dialect of Spanish. We managed to get through it with no one getting shot, at the very least. It turns out that the locals are quite unhappy with York and his men plundering not only their heritage, but a site they consider to be almost sacred. Though they have made some attempt to force them to leave, so far, their efforts have not met with any success. York and his people are quite adamant about staying on, hostile, and far better armed than the locals.

  They were able to show us a means of approach of which even Miss Bowe was unaware – little surprise, as she has told us last time she was here, they went with the knowledge and permission of the locals and no opposition to their approach for study. I am curious that none of the locals remember her or her father directly, though they seem to have some recollection of her name – which also calmed them somewhat. She must have been much younger when she was last here.

  This other way required scaling some bit of sheer cliff face, though that turned out to be little difficulty. Miss Bowe scrambled up the rocks as easily as I might walk and attached a rope that the rest of us could scale more easily. Even with this, Miss Penn had some trouble climbing, but managed. She did not proceed any further with us while there was still opposition in our way, not being an especially capable combatant and not wishing to be a liability.

  Miss Bowe and Eddy jointly removed the sentries from our path, giving us an approach hidden from their camp by the ruins themselves. This meant some impromptu exploration ourselves, moving through the maze-like ruins, unsure if their people might lay around the next corner in their own explorations. Worse yet, we knew that firing a gun here might well prove to be near suicide, for it would announce us and bring them down in numbers on us quickly. As such, because such an event would be quite possibly more deadly to us, if slower, than having them surprise us, Eddy and I kept our guns at our belts. Eddy instead armed himself with a knife of his own. I had not come so prepared, so instead, I settled for one of the hatchets used for preparing our camps. It may have been for the best anyway, as most of my concentration was on using the techniques Eddy had taught me for walking quietly, so any surprise might have led to me firing out of reflex. I also was not sure how quick I would be to knife a man, nor how effectively I might prevent him from screaming.

  Twice more, we came upon York's mercenaries, and each time, the small group was dispatched before they were able to raise an alarm. We came at last to where they had tethered their airship, tho
ugh the ladder had been taken up. There were two guards out in this open area, so we had to be most careful. After brief and quiet discussion, Eddy found himself a covered spot where he might open fire should anyone take notice of the efforts, and I moved to at least be prepared to hand him his second rifle, or help with covering fire should he need it.

  Miss Bowe moved to one of the thick ropes, waiting until the patrolling men were not looking her way, then made a short dash before beginning to climb the unknotted rope. She used only her arms, for trying to get a foothold might have taken too long. She was above their line of sight in a second, continuing to climb rapidly towards their airship, that she might search it for Sir James, while we covered her. I regretted that we could not have more backup, but by this point we had distinctly determined from the terrain that Miss Coltrane indeed would face only disaster as the ground collapsed beneath her. Sending for the others would have been a detriment. It had taken Eddy a little while to realize that for certain. He'd cursed a little that James would have known.

  A long and nervous time followed, Eddy's finger resting on the trigger, the both of us staying as still as we could, lest we draw some attention to ourselves. Were it not for the occasional blink, Eddy may as well have been a rock. I am certain I was not nearly so disciplined, though I tried not to shift about, nervous as I was.

  A shot came from the dirigible above us, followed by cursing. Miss Bowe raced from one of the doorways and leaped free from the body of the dirigible. At first I thought for sure she would fall short and fall to Earth, but she caught one of the securing ropes and immediately began to ascend up to the balloon. People quickly gathered, and guns were aimed upward, but someone was observant and had wits enough about him to insist that they not shoot, lest they damage their own craft and strand them all there, or drop the aircraft. The Spaniard followed next from the craft and leaped with only the slightest hesitation, using his whip to extend his reach, curling it about one of the ropes and swinging to it. Then the weapon was returned to his belt, and he climbed after her.

  With none of their troops able to shoot, and the pair of us unwilling to do so, we were all treated to a most impressive display of the pair of acrobats leaping, climbing and swinging among the rigging and securing ropes. He almost caught up with her a time or two, and she would cut a rope and swing to a new place. At last, she reached the top, or close enough to race along the edge towards the rope he was still climbing. She cut it through, but it was thick enough that it took time enough that her opponent was able to once again catch another hold, swinging over to another rope and finishing his climb.

  Urged on by their leaders, more men finally began trying to climb up the ropes towards the pair. By comparison, they looked slow and clumsy. Indeed, one did not make it at all, losing his grip and going sliding back down the rope until reflex made him let go to free his burning hands. I do not know if he survived the fall, but his failure – and his screams on the way down – discouraged many others from trying to follow.

  At the edge of the balloon, barely within our sight, the Spaniard reached the top and drew his sword. Miss Bowe engaged him with her knife, and the pair dashed back and forth along the unsteady surface, trying to make each other take a fatal misstep. More men gathered, including York at last. Eddy almost fired, but held his shot, knowing that it would have been a suicidal move at that point.

  After some bit of time watching the display above, I noticed the pair seemed to be talking while they fought, though I could not hear them. This would be odd enough, considering Sam Bowe's usual focus at these times. Stranger still, the Spaniard suddenly switched from holding his blade in a left-handed grip to his right, then readied to continue. Miss Bowe replied and drew a second knife, wielding one blade in each hand.

  York shouted, and a ladder was dropped from the dirigible. He began to climb first, and again, Eddy tensed, but did not fire. Too many guns were still upon us. Pushing away other men, the Irishman followed York. We did not see any other of his command staff. Others began to ascend as well. As soon as he reached the top, York shouted a command, and riflemen put their heads out the windows, aimed, and fired. I believe one of them hit their own men below, but most of them hit their targets, weights on the securing ropes. Somewhere along the line, they had been filled with black powder or some such substance, and the ropes were suddenly released, much to the surprise of the people still below.

  As the ship began to rise with far fewer mercenaries, York looked below and pointed to our location. Eddy cursed and took his shot at last. York ducked back just in time, and Eddy says his bullet impacted the doorway instead. My own eyes were not sufficient to the task of seeing what he had or had not hit. The Irishman pulled himself up and began pulling the ladder up, even with men still on it. Much as he would have doubtless preferred to have shot York's commanders, Eddy was forced to take his second shot upon the first of the mercenaries to rush our position.

  I had time enough, still having been mostly aware of the rapid-paced fight above, to see Miss Bowe launch herself backwards off of the top of the craft, now aware that if she continued her fight to its conclusion, she would be too far away to escape the flying craft at all. She caught a trailing rope between her feet and with her knives so she would not injure her hands. Though it did not slow her much, it was enough to control her descent until she dropped off the end of the rope some six meters above the ground, at my best guess, using one of the mercenaries to cushion her fall.

  I lost track of her then, having to defend myself, firing upon the men coming our way as they divided their numbers, seeming as surprised as we were. Shots rang all around us, as Eddy, calm as I have ever seen him, shot down one man, turned the hand crank, aimed, and shot down another. I emptied my barrels and, out of ammunition, unslung Eddy's second rifle, which was on my back for just this reason. When he emptied his last shot, I quickly handed it over that there would be as little delay in firing as possible. I borrowed the second pepper-box pistol off of his belt, having only these shots, and a single flintlock pistol besides, between me and the mob.

  I never got a chance to draw my emergency weapon before they were upon us. I was shot in the left shoulder and fell backwards. Eddy was forced to use his beloved rifle as a club, splintering the butt of the rifle on a man's head before firing his final rifle shot standing and with no time to aim.

  I at last managed to draw my flintlock pistol and shoot down the man who had hit me just as he was finishing reloading his musket, which clattered down near me. Desperately, I grabbed for it and fired, hoping for the best. It shot down a man before he could fire at Eddy, as he engaged a final two figures with a bare hand and a damaged rifle. These two were all that was left by the time we were forced to such desperate circumstances – or Eddy was, for I was quite useless by this point. Their remaining companions had fled. Between Eddy's accuracy and my luck, they most likely had decided we must have greater numbers than we did.

  Though he gained a burn across one shoulder from a pistol going off too near him, and he still has some trouble hearing from his right ear, Eddy successfully put down these last, as Miss Bowe emerged from her own knot of downed mercenaries. She told us the bad news – Sir James had been aboard, but it had always been a trap, and they had been entirely prepared for our rescue attempt. We could not be certain how long those who had fled would stay away before courage returned to them, so Eddy picked me up, and we fled as quickly as possible under the circumstances, with nothing more to be gained there, and rejoined Miss Penn.

  Climbing back down the rope turned out to be quite the affair, and at last they had to tie it securely around me and lower me to the ground, but we were out of the camp and into some kind of cover once more. At Miss Bowe's urging, we went to the nearest village then, and she talked them into giving Miss Penn and myself shelter before she and Eddy, as they put it, “went hunting.”

  While they were out, the village's doctor was summoned, and I was given both very strong drink and a belt to bite down up
on while he set to removing the musket ball from my shoulder. Four villagers came to assist, mostly in keeping me still while he worked. I have been shot at many times, but never before shot. The removal was the most excruciating moment of my life, worse by a wide margin over being shot in the first place. He at last retrieved the ball and then patched me up as best he could. Thankfully, the wound was not so serious as it easily could have been, but my arm will be in recovery for some time.

  Eddy and Miss Bowe returned sometime after I had slept for a while, and then we got an accounting of what had happened. Sir James was in a small room, tied still, and looked the worse for wear. There was some gathering around him, including the Spaniard, the bookish woman with her cat, and the Moroccan.

  Though she swears that she made no noise, the Moroccan looked up at her, as if expecting her then, and raised the alarm. Before fleeing, she ducked into their charting room, fighting the Spaniard and killing one of the mercenaries on guard as she went. Then she left their ship, as we saw. She believes they are next headed for the strange island of New Zealand, which the French have some charts of, but England's contact has been limited. It is said the land is full of strange and violent savages, and Miss Bowe has not yet denied this.

  If they had expected us, however, worry rose that our companions might then be in serious trouble. The two of us still fit to fight went back to check on our company, while Miss Penn has stayed here with me and the villagers in the shadow of what the locals call the sacred city of Machu Picchu.

  March 14th, 1816