The Dormant (The Sublime Electricity Book #4)

by Pavel Kornev

  "Leopold Borisovich!" the inventor lit up and caught his breath with relief. "I'm glad you're doing fine! Your friend Thomas thought the self-propelled carriage in front of the shop was suspicious. He was looking for you, as it were..."

  "Don't worry, I invited my friends here to discuss a very delicate matter. But I never could have hoped you might join us. How are you feeling?"

  "My head is spinning a bit," Alexander said, leaning heavily on the counter. "But what is happening in the city... It's a pure nightmare! Everyone is certain that one of Tesla's experimental devices blew up for some reason, and Nikola hadn't even make it into the lyceum!"

  "So, Tesla survived?" I lit up.

  "Yes, he was just badly concussed. He's already flown back to Paris."

  I winced. The conspirators managed to take the famed inventor out of the game.

  "And what problem were you discussing?" Alexander Dyak inquired.

  "Just a minute!" I walked up to the door and warned: "Ladies and gentlemen, we're coming in!"

  There was a decent chance I would find myself in the sights of a pistol as soon as I stepped over the threshold but no, I got by without it. The investigator was sitting on the workbench and looking at the bandage on the fingers of his left hand. The lieutenant was leaning on the wall with a glum look. And the lady-in-waiting was smiling charmingly up at us from the couch. Although the tension in the room could be cut with a knife, no one had their weapons out.

  "Allow me to present our host Alexander Dyak, a leading researcher in the field of electromagnetic radiation."

  "Come now, Leopold Borisovich, I don’t know about ‘leading...’" the inventor got embarrassed and walked over to the lightning sensor in the corner. He started up the device and watched the movement of the pencil on the paper ribbon. After some time, hesnorted in confusion and told us: "As I feared, the disturbances are still at their former level, while the intensity of the original signal has fallen by approximately a third."

  "What are you talking about?" William Grace got on guard.

  I just waved the lieutenant off and asked the inventor:

  "Alexander, does that mean that one of the three transmitters covering New Babylon was located in the Sublime Electricity lyceum?"

  "That would be a logical conclusion," Dyak confirmed, stroking his gray beard. "But most likely there are two transmitters. Radiation does not drop in a strictly linear fashion. What's more, some electromagnetic waves may be reaching us from the continent."

  "So if the conspirators destroy the second transmitter, the capital will be left defenseless?"

  "That is correct," Alexander sighed. "And I cannot help in any way. Any device I would be able to construct would not be sufficiently powerful to overcome the disturbances. It is simply impossible."

  "And your new work? You cannot apply that somehow?" I enquired, not turning my attention to the confused gazes of the unfortunate bewildered onlookers.

  "It's a totally different frequency," Alexander Dyak shook his head and suddenly snapped his fingers. "That's it! A different frequency! The disturbances wouldn’t be effected, but microwaves can destroy the physical shells of demons! I warn you, though, it's effective radius would be no more than twenty or thirty meters."

  "Wait!" Lieutenant Grace cut into the conversation. "Do you mean to say that this device provides defense against demons and we can take her Highness out of the palace?"

  "Theoretically that is correct," the inventor confirmed, "but we'll need a powerful source of energy. And the device is quite heavy. A usual self-propelled carriage will not suffice to transport it."

  "We need an armored vehicle!" I realized. "William, have you got an armored vehicle?"

  The lieutenant's face went sour as if he'd just taken a bite of a lemon.

  "No. All I have is five soldiers, two light self-propelled carriages, a few hand-held machine guns and Gauss casters."

  "Not even grenades?"

  Grace remained silent.

  I shook my head, went into the front room and called Ramon Miro's office from the telephone on the counter.

  "Still moving to the Caribbean?" I asked when he picked up the phone.

  "Why do you ask?"

  "Have you found a buyer for the armored vehicle, yet?"

  Ramon sighed loudly and asked after a brief pause:

  "You looking to buy?"

  "I'll give you twenty thousand."

  "By check?"

  "By check."

  "Make it twenty-five. And there’s no place for negotiating."

  I chuckled.

  "Alright, but I need it right now."

  That was perfectly fine with Ramon. I explained where to bring the armored vehicle, then returned to William Grace.

  "Well, I've solved the transportation problem."

  "Just wonderful, but how far can we trust this old man's ideas?" the lieutenant responded with a gloomy look. "He's like a mad inventor off the pages of some pulp novel!"

  "I've trusted him with my life more than once," I assured him and extended a hand: "And now, if you'd be so kind, give me back my pistols."

  William Grace hesitated. Then, a smoldering mew came from behind him:

  "Don't be stubborn, my sweet. The shop owner is so old. It would be hard for him to wash blood out of this room..."

  The lieutenant swallowed fitfully and extended me the Steyr-Han, handle first.

  "And the Cerberus," I reminded him, collecting the pistol and looking at Elizabeth-Maria in disapproval. "What are you still doing here?"

  "I feel obligated to you, and I cannot bear it. It's contrary to my nature," the succubus answered, lowering the saber.

  I frowned and turned to the lieutenant:

  "William, be so kind and leave us for a few minutes."

  Grace slowly stepped back from the succubus, looked her over and asked:

  "Who is this, Leopold?"

  "A friend. And yes, she can be trusted."

  "Well, look..." William Grace snorted and stumbled into the back room. Elizabeth-Maria appeared behind me silently, making an indelible impression on him. As, it should be said, did the bared saber and her delicate arms.

  I grabbed the succubus by the shoulder and pulled her to the entrance.

  "Where is Lily? Did you put her on the ferry?"

  "As promised!"

  "And she left?"

  "Of course she left! She asked me to say she believes in you."

  I felt a stone fall off my soul. I caught my breath with relief and asked:

  "What do you need? After all, you don't do anything just because!"

  "I do not," Elizabeth-Maria confirmed, setting her saber on the window sill. She then looked into the mirror and began putting her short red hair up into a kerchief. "But you were planning to rescue the Princess. Meanwhile, I can feel an upwelling of diabolic power near the palace even from here. I'm certain that you could pinch off a bit for me."

  "Listen..."

  "No, you listen to me, Leopold!" Elizabeth-Maria grumbled. "I'm going with you! Period!"

  The succubus grabbed the saber and walked decisively into the back room, while all I could do was exhale a soundless curse after her.

  With a rescue team like this, we could only guess who would be rescuing us from one another...

  5

  WE REACHED THE OLD CITY only at dawn of the next day. We spent all evening and most of the night setting up Alexander Dyak's transmitter. I even had to take all the armor plates off the tower of the armored vehicle, otherwise there was no way for the microwave transmitter to fit up there. We had to entirely remove the side doors as well, just to get the clunky device and generator inside. As a result, there was only room for six people. Another two could fit in the cabin.

  "Good luck, Leo!" Ramon Miro squeezed my hand farewell. He had been helping us refit the armored vehicle all night, but didn't ask a single question, nor express any interest in our venture. "I hope we see each other again!"

  "Until next time!" I slapped him
on the shoulder, and the hulking man left the yard.

  I watched him go, sighing heavily as he saw William Grace's subordinates unload the Lewis guns and their loaded disks from the self-propelled carriage. A hand-held mortar with a five-round drum had already been transferred into the back of the armored vehicle and a pneumatic cable gun that fired a fairly large two-pronged spear. The spear was connected to a weighty electric jar in an over-the-shoulder pack by a spool of wire that looked like it belonged on a spinning wheel. According to the boastful lieutenant, the electric charge of the batteries could lay low any of the dukes of the underworld. I myself had no desire to test that assertion.

  But I had somewhat more hope in Dyak's transmitter. Started in test mode, it exploded a nearby bottle of beer and the spilled liquid went up in a cloud of white steam.

  While the guardsmen moved the machine guns into the armored car–mounting two to side windows and a third in the front –I threw the strap of the small bag over my shoulder and started to fill it with incendiary grenades, which Ramon had brought more of. William Grace and Thomas Smith followed my example.

  I heard occasional rumbling blasts from the Old City. The sky there was stretched over with black smoke, but even that didn't obstruct the view of the scarlet glow over the palace.

  "Nothing changed overnight," Lieutenant Grace told us. "But there is also some good news."

  "And what might that be?" Thomas Smith expressed curiosity.

  "Last evening, a bomb was thrown from a building window into the regent’s carriage. The Duke survived but lost an arm and is now in critical condition," William said and chuckled. "As you see, sometimes anarchists are useful. The most important thing now is to get her Highness out of the palace."

  I looked carefully at the lieutenant, but he was totally serious about the anarchists.

  "Are you sure it was anarchists?" I then asked.

  "Yeah, some screwball Russian," Grace confirmed. "Department Three spooks shot him during the arrest."

  "Ah, so there it is!" I drew out my words in thought, guessing the regent’s coconspirators had tried to get rid of him, or that it was Bastian Moran's attempt to influence events.

  "We need to go," the investigator hurried us.

  "Yes, it is time," the lieutenant nodded.

  He sat two guardsmen at the wheel and machine gun and took another two subordinates with him into the back. The lady-in-waiting and Elizabeth-Maria sat on bullet boxes opposite one another, and Thomas Smith sat right on the floor, while I had to get up on the rack to the microwave transmitter. It was remarkably uncomfortable to ride on the tower with no armor.

  However, I wanted to be in the company of the oracle and succubus little enough to bear it. Although both ladies had seemingly swallowed their tongues, the tension between them was nearly throwing off sparks.

  The armored vehicle very quickly left the area of the Imperial Academy, crossing Euler Bridge to the other side of the Yarden. Once there we made a hook and turned toward the entrance into the Kelvin tunnel. This passageway, which had been laid under the river a few years back, led right into the Old City but, was distant enough from the quarantine zone not to be patrolled by army divisions. Here instead there were metropolitan police.

  When the armored vehicle drove down a nearby alleyway and stopped, I got down from my perch, threw open the side door and called the investigator after me:

  "Thomas, let's go!"

  "Is everything in order?" Lieutenant Grace got on guard.

  "Completely," I waved it off and asked Smith: "Thomas, find out who is in charge. If need be, refer to Senior Inspector Moran. Say we need to speak with him."

  Smith nodded and walked to the police barricade, came back a few minutes later and said:

  "The senior inspector is on his way."

  Shivers crawled up my spine. If Moran had suddenly changed his mind about working with us, we'd never get out of here alive.

  Anyway, I wasn't the only one feeling agitated. Thomas suddenly pulled the glass lenses from his eyes, set them in a jar of fluid and said:

  "An order has come from the agency to just observe the situation and not take action."

  "What the devil?" I turned to him. "Why do they want that?"

  The investigator shrugged his shoulders.

  "For justice, perhaps?"

  "Balderdash!"

  "Indeed," Thomas confirmed, furrowed his brow, dried his tears and looked somewhere aside. "My little sister had six fingers on her hand. She was beaten to death on her way home from the store. The locals said the illustrious are the spawn of the devil. They believe in the primacy of science and spoke of the devil. Tell me, how is this possible?"

  "Did they find the killers?"

  "And no one was looking."

  "And you?"

  "Well, I signed up to the army a month before that. And now I'm thinking maybe I was meant to die then, but I just ran away."

  I just shrugged my shoulders. We all have our skeletons in the closet, and some of them are best left forgotten.

  "Look, he's coming over," Thomas Smith nodded at a stocky investigator in uniform walking up the road, the very same who had been holding me in the sights of his lupara yesterday. Now, instead of a weapon he was holding a little bucket of bleach with his hand in it.

  "Where's your vehicle?" Moran's subordinate asked as he walked, not wasting time on a greeting.

  "In the alley."

  "Show me."

  We led the policeman to the armored vehicle, and he drew a big white letter M on the sheet covering the transmitter.

  "Don't erase it. Without the mark we'll blow it up," he warned, standing on the running boards and commanding: "Let's go!"

  Thomas and I quickly got into the back. The armored vehicle burst from place and rolled off toward the tunnel. At the entrance there were sandbag defensive positions. At them, alongside a few machine guns and recoilless rifles, there were two stationary flamethrowers. On the side, a little vehicle-mounted Tesla generator tower peeked out from behind a high caponier.

  Before the barricade, the driver lowered his speed. But as soon as the police cleared a lane, the armored vehicle picked up the pace and went under the stone entrance of the tunnel. The electric streetlights weren't working, but our powerful headlights did a perfect job lighting the way anyhow.

  At the first sign of danger, I was prepared to fire up the microwave emitter, but I didn't have to. We didn't come across anything on our way through the tunnel. In the Old City though, the situation was profoundly different. There was a sheet of smoke hanging over the streets. There were constant machine gun bursts crackling out nearby, and powerful explosions boomed and echoed with frightening regularity.

  The magic in the air could be felt almost physically. For a moment, it seemed that some phantasmagoric force had returned me to the past and I was surrounded by my cursed family mansion. But no –now the whole Old City was cursed. Dead grass blackened the lawns, barren trees stood frozen, strange and frightening affronts to nature. There was broken glass all down the sidewalks, and smoking buildings loomed with the empty gaps of their windows. Holes left by explosive rounds gaped in the upper floors.

  Suddenly, a ghostly silhouette appeared in the smoke, and a demon dove out at the armored vehicle. It looked most of all like a flying stingray of unbelievable size.

  I could hear the mounted machine gun start chirring madly. The infernal creature slipped down from the heights of the fourth floor to the very earth and raced in our direction. Pulling down on the activation handle, I started up the device and strained to turn its iron shield toward the demon. When I finally did, it shuddered and dispersed into a ball of lightning, leaving just a charred spot on the causeway.

  But it was too early to celebrate: from the neighboring alley there came a trio of possessed people, covered in blood from head to toe. One, based on the shredded uniform and revolver, was a policeman. I got on guard, turning the emitter shield in their direction. The skin of the walking corpses in
stantly started bubbling and smoking. I heard a few revolver claps, but the bullets whistled off the armor, ricocheting. Then, the side machine gun started up, sending the possessed to the ground in one long burst.

  The armored vehicle rolled onward, and I soon saw another group of walking corpses down a side alley. But this time, they were wearing wreathes of hand grenades. Fortunately, though, the carriage had picked up a decent amount of speed by then, so we raced past before they reached the road.

  At full speed, we flew into the smoke over the road, and visibility fell to a minimum. Then a titanic four-armed figure wove itself out of the gray haze before us. Electromagnetic radiation from the microwave cut the demon into a hundred invisible copies and scattered them, dashing their physical substance.

  A moment later, a booming explosion thundered out up above, and I barely managed to dive into the vehicle before tile fragments drummed out on the armor!

  "What was that?" Lieutenant Grace turned to me. Just then, another blast rang out, but behind us. The back shuddered in the hail of shrapnel, but our armor held out.

  "A howitzer!" I realized.

  "They're firing from the air!" William Grace announced, banging on the grate separating the back from the cabin and shouted: "Turn around! Turn around right now!"

  The armored vehicle turned sharply to the side, nearly cutting the corner off a building, and the subsequent explosion threw paving stones from the causeway right where we would have been if we had kept going forward.

  The side street led us to a collapsed building, where nearly the entire road was covered with shards of the hard body of a crashed dirigible. The crest of the Imperial Air Fleet could be seen on one of the crumpled stabilizers.

  "Turn toward the palace! The palace!" the lieutenant shouted to the driver and turned to me: "Leopold, get up there, step to!"

  I climbed up into my rack and immediately felt а sweltering heat coming off the emitter plate, but I couldn’tturn the device off–there was an impenetrable haze of dark clouds crawling in front of us. In the depths of it, I could see the twinkling of ominous sparks and flashes of dark shadows.