by SJ Davis
“Mia, just don’t panic. We have no idea what my powers could be doing right now. Obviously you can see our four friends with us, or you wouldn’t have moved like you did.” His tone was light, and for the first time, he realized that maybe he really did need to be more serious.
“Jase, just shut up. I can’t do this if you’re talking to me. I have no idea what I’m even doing.” A spark jumped from her body and landed a few meters away. “Damn it.”
He kept his mouth shut and his eyes moving between the souls in the room. The one above was strange; he’d never before encountered one that appeared as they had died. Normally, if it could be considered normal, they appeared just as they would have before death. They were talking suddenly, chattering, cursing and shouting at one another and at him. They hadn’t made a move to touch him yet. That took a little more perception and the spirits were still waking up it seemed.
“Got you.”
He shifted his gaze and saw Mia pushing her big skirt through the small opening. She was struggling.
“Take the bloody skirt off, Mia.”
Her face paled.
“This is no time for modesty. You need to get us out of here now.”
She paused for a moment before pushing the brown skirt off her waist.
“ ‘Ey you? Pre’ty boi,” a horrid English accent came from behind him. He turned slowly and flinched. A man with a knife through his chest was standing in front of him. “I’ve been standin ‘ere forever waitin’.”
Jase was growing more and more nervous by the second. Seeing spirits as they had been at death was not something he was interesting in seeing. Hand wrapped around the bars, he cursed as tiny bolts stung his cheeks.
“Mia!” he growled and rubbed his cheek, even as a he took a step back. She didn’t say anything back and he looked up. Her skin was pale and covered in a sheen of sweat. Her jaw was clenched tight and her eyes were closed even tighter.
She was in pain, and there was no way to ease that. He swore to himself he would fix it when they were safely out of the storm. For the moment, he could only side step the power she was flinging around the tiny cell, and pray none of the ghosts would be able to touch him. They were trying awfully hard and still, thankfully, moving right through him.
The smell of burning metal reached his nose and he looked down. They were almost done, almost home free.
“What is going on in here? What do you two think you are up to? Get back in that cell—” the guard’s voice cut off as his eyes must have landed on the ghosts. Which meant he was a future Stormling himself. Poor man had no idea what was to come for him.
“Mia, I’m so sorry.” He shoved her towards the guard, grimacing at the pain of the small currents traveling through his hands and into his body.
She cried out as she fell right into the guard. He said a quiet prayer as the screams and smell of burning flesh reached his nose. He tried to ignore it as he grabbed onto the mostly melted bars to push them apart. The heat stung his hands as much as the lightning bolts had. Her whole body had been pressed against his cell door though, so many more bars were heated and beginning to drip. A section of liquid metal burned his shoulder through his coat, and he cursed.
Eighteen. Eighteen strong, distinct flashes of lights lit the world. There couldn’t be much time left. There were so many voices ringing in his head, he wanted to claw at his ears and pull them all out. But it was Mia’s scream that brought his attention to a focus.
She was shaking the man on the floor, tears spilling down her face and she was screaming. Inhuman shouts and curses tore from her, and Jase forced his body through the bars just as he felt a ghost’s hand physically latch onto him.
He slipped as he raced to her and his knees cracked into the floor. Pain rocked through him, but he pushed off and kept going the few meters to Mia. He reached his hands out instinctively to grab her, but stopped just before he made contact. Her skin was alive and the man on the floor was proof that it could be deadly.
“Mia, I want to touch you, to pull you up and tell you that his soul is ok, but I don’t have time to search for him and if I touch you, well—” he let his voice trail off as he finally she stood.
“Jase, when this is all over, somehow you’re going to find his grave and let me tell him I’m sorry,” her voice was steely, cold.
He nodded. “Mia, the souls, they’re able to touch me. My gift is changing rapidly, too. I don’t know why these men died in jail, but I’d rather not find out.” The souls were standing back, watching them. Perhaps they were afraid of Mia, or perhaps they hadn’t realized they could move. Either way, they weren’t going to stick around.
Mia ran backwards to the cell, and he almost screamed at her, until he realized she was putting her skit on. If this was home, they were a jog from the church still. He stood, waiting until she ran past him and then caught up.
She threw the door open, and the howling wind pelted them with rain, but the sky was dark. There was no sign of lightning and next to no light. Everything was still oil fueled, and the storm was coming down so hard, most of the oil lamps were extinguished. He’d grown up in some version of Williamsburg his whole life; he could find the church with his eyes closed. Plus, there was light coming from Mia.
She ran past him, and he was momentarily impressed. But distracted, his foot slipped in the mud, and he barely caught his body weight before slamming into the ground. She didn’t’ notice, she didn’t even stop. Which was fine. He didn’t want her outside the next time the lightning came. He felt the rain slapping into his skin, and he worried what it would do to her.
“Mia,” he shouted and his voice was swallowed up by the storm. “Mia, turn left. To the left.”
She hadn’t grown up there as long as he had. She was going to go the wrong way. He watched as she turned in a split second, and raced even harder towards the church as lightning began to fill the sky.
He was just about caught up to her when she threw the door open. “Thank God,” her voice was haggard, but he could hear relief that the carriage was right where they had left it.
“Young people, have you come to seek shelter from the storm?” The voice was distant, like a soul’s.
Jase whipped his head, and Mia stopped in her tracks. A priest was present, well his soul. His heart thumped in his chest. Could a priest be dangerous? He shook the thought off, and almost slammed into Mia, who was still stopped.
“Mia, let’s go. Now.” He kept going past her, walking instead of running in the house of God, and he pulled open the carriage door and quickly stepped in.
His eyes flew in the direction of the crystals and only the green one, the one in his pocket was missing. He jammed it into place just because and turned to tell Mia to just grab the crystal and take them home. Mia still wasn’t moving. When he looked back at her, she was staring at her hands. The sparks were bigger now and they were running out of time.
Annoyed, he kicked the interior of the carriage and raced down to Mia. He put his face right in hers and sucked in a breath before grabbing her face in his hands. Pain tore through him and he had trouble speaking.
“We need to go, Mia. Now.” Her eyes bored into his, and suddenly she pulled back. His hands let go of her face and the pain stopped coursing through his body.
She raced to the carriage, and he flinched when it seemed to rock from the energy she sent through it when she stepped up. He joined her inside, and she was frowning, pointing her hand at the crystal with no luck.
“Grab it, Mia. Just take hold of it when the carriage moves back up.”
She gave no indication she heard, except to grab the blue crystal. He leaned forward just as she leaned down and out to start the small engine underneath. The noise of the carriage sparking to life terrified him, she was still technically outside.
As the roars and shaking hit their peak, he reached out and grabbed her back inside and the door, caught in her hand, slammed shut. She pulled away from him and crushed her body to the opposite side of
the bench as the carriage grew more and more violent. Just like the last two times, the carriage suddenly stopped.
Quiet eclipsed the noise, and he couldn’t hear the pounding of rain outside. When he looked at Mia, her body wasn’t covered in sparks either. She looked as weary as he felt, but all that was left to do was push open the door and pray it worked.
Chapter Eight
She was holding her breath. The wooziness that passed over her, and the burning sensation in her chest, was what alerted her to it. She exhaled just as she felt the carriage stop. She heard noises outside; voices. Familiar voices. She could feel warm tears track down her cheeks.
“We’re home, Jase.” She turned to see him grinning at her. She caught sight of her hand and cried out. The sparking had stopped. She closed her eyes, rubbed her hands together and a smile broke across her lips when she felt the familiar buzz between them. For good measure she struck the seat next to Jase.
“What the hell, Mia?”
“Don’t you ever make me kill someone again!” She felt awful at the thought. She’d taken a life to save their lives. It would haunt her forever, and for the first time in some time, she was grateful for the Great Storm, so she could see if he was indeed resting in peace.
“Oh shut up, Mia.” He smiled as he brought his face to hers. His lips were warm as he pressed them to hers and she shuddered. Her mouth opened and he slipped his tongue inside.
The carriage door swung open at that precise moment. She pushed off his chest and flushed when she looked down and saw the faces of four Stormlings and the Master Trainer of all Telekinetic Stormlings looking up at them.
“Well?”
“It worked didn’t?”
“You’ve been gone for hours—”
“—the carriage just vanished when we opened the door to check on you.”
Their voices assaulted them, and when Jase slipped his hand into hers, she smiled and leaned her head against his.
“I think I can answer all those questions for you.” Jase laughed and leaned down to grab the tiny statue from under the seat. He popped up, and gently tossed it in the air.
Master The land stopped it mid-air and used his powers to slowly turn it over in the air. His brow furrowed as he looked at it from every possible angle. Her stomach felt as if he were tossing and turning her around while they waited. If that little statue didn’t prove it, they were sunk.
“Oh, and we can’t forget these.” Jase tossed the plastic liquid filled bottle and a strange food filled bag in the air as well. Both hit the floor and she jumped as a hissing sound came from the bottle. It darted back and forth along the floor, spraying something brown as it did.
The other Stormlings laughed and sidestepped the spray, but Master Theland twisted the cap tightly with his mind before levitating it up towards him. “Interesting. Compressed carbon.” He licked his fingertips. “And something sweet inside.” He eyed the bag on the floor before lifting his head to them. “Where did you go?”
“Do you believe us then?”
“Miss Spenceton, there is nothing to not believe. All groups reported the noises from within the church, and one pair foolishly ran in to try and help you. The carriage winked out of sight before them. I never truly needed evidence. What I need is the knowledge of when you went and how you achieved it.”
She opened her mouth to respond, and Jase squeezed her hand. “We are not saying a word until we have what’s rightfully ours.”
“Your findings and work belong to the Institute of Stormlings, Mr. Kristol. You signed a contract, and I can force the information.”
He was bold, determined even. “Then you will remember that the contract states, upon successful completion, all parties would be granted a small sum of land, an audience with the king himself and title.”
She flushed, he was thinking about her, about marrying her.
“Yes, Mr. Kristol, that is correct. You will have those things once you can replicate what was done.” He walked away from them to the side of the church and opened a drawer.
He pulled out a rolled piece of paper, unfurled it and mentally moved the quill across it before walking back over to them and handing it Jase. “As you can see this implicitly states that you both were the inventors.”
She smiled and had a feeling that if she’d looked at him, Jase was as well.
“We saw the future. We saw buildings as tall as the heavens and carriages that floated off the ground! There was strange food and bright overhead lamps. The people, they wore such tight clothes and raced back and forth,” his voice rose as he told the tale, the others enthralled with his version.
She was quite impressed at his lack of embellishment. It was very unlike him. “To the past. To the America’s as well. We saw, we were in The Great Storm.” Master Theland’s eyebrows rose at her words. “We saw it, and we must never go back.”
“That is not for you to decide.”
“Our powers, they went off the scale, to return would be deadly.”
“Again, Miss Spenceton, that is not for you to decide.”
Jase tugged on her hand and stepped off the carriage, forcing her down with him. “We’ll be more than happy to answer your remaining questions, tomorrow.” He leveled a gaze at the trainer, and the two stared at one another for what felt like an eternity before Master Theland stepped to the side.
“You will report back to this spot at nine in the morning, sharp.” Master Theland called after them as Jase playfully tugged her from the church.
“Do you hear that, Mrs. Kristol?” He winked and she laughed.
She pushed open the door and walked into the dark night street. “That is quite presumptuous of you, Mr. Kristol.” They both laughed as she put her hand through the crook in his arm.
“Well, how about I plan a proper proposal, right after we go to the cemetery and see about a certain fallen law keeper.” He smiled at her. “I made a promise, and we’re going to start our lives as famous inventors off properly, by keeping promises.”
Her hand slid down his arm and gripped his hand. She smiled at him as they walked towards their future.
The Cogs Turn
Eada Janes
In her smile, danger awaits
In her mind, evil stagnates.
In her eyes, the fires burn.
In her chest, the cogs turn.
Eyes of green, and lips of red.
A stare so cold, it’ll turn you dead.
Soft skin, over a frame made by man.
Kissable, touchable, loveable tin can.
Watch her as she twists and twirls
Beautiful, metal, mechanical girl.
Broken doll, destroyed by another.
The scientist put her back together.
No more tears for her to cry.
She’s wished humanity goodbye.
In her smile, danger awaits
In her mind, evil stagnates.
In her eyes, the fires burn.
In her chest, the cogs turn.
Times of Arrival
Wayne Carey
Harrison Pierce tried to lean back in the old wooden chair, but the manacles bolted to the heavy table prevented it. Colonel Reginald Shepherd paced the room in front of him, his dark suit rumpled from extended wear. He was unshaven, and he was very angry. Pierce had never seen Shepherd so upset, but that had been expected.
Behind Shepherd was the only window in the room. Beyond the bars, London sprawled, lit by the moon, the gas street lamps, and the fires. One building burned whilst the fire brigade struggled to contain the flames. Further away, another was on fire, but Pierce couldn’t see if anyone was tending to it or just praying it wouldn’t spread.
Shepherd finally marched to the table and slammed his palms onto it.
“Where have you been, Harry! It’s been a bloody year. A whole bloody year!”
“Yeah,” Pierce said slowly. “Sorry about that. Didn’t expect to be gone so long. To our credit, we did try to get back, but things got a bit …
complicated.”
“Where’s everyone else?” Shepherd demanded. “Where’s your brother, Sam? And Private Cooper? Where’s Elizabeth Fletcher and the Independence?”
“Didn’t Billings give you a report? He did make it back okay, didn’t he? We got separated, you know.”
“What I know is that Her Majesty’s government sent you through a Tesla Portal to another planet on a rescue mission. A simple rescue mission. The airship Independence was leased to our government from the United States for that purpose. An expedition to another bloody planet to rescue your brother’s patrol.”
Pierce tried to move his manacled hand. “Ah, but we did accomplish that.”
“And the city on that planet?”
“Not actually a city. Just one big building. From a rather advanced civilization that had come from somewhere else. That planet was merely an outpost.”
“Billings said that you were responsible for the destruction of that outpost. He and his men passed through the portal we established on the planet, bringing them back to London, but the Independence, which creates its own portal, never returned. We’ve sent patrols through, but all they found were ruins in the middle of a jungle. The Independence was gone. You are facing some serious charges, Harry, and I will not be able to smooth things over for you. Some members of the ministry want to add treason to those charges.”
“That’s a bit extreme,” Pierce said.
“Now you show up a year later, looking like this, alone, without the Independence. What happened, Harry?”
“Are you ready for my side of things?”
“I doubt anything you say will make things better.”
“You know about that German ambush. You had sent my brother and his patrol through the initial portal, and don’t pretend that their expedition was purely exploratory. You were interested in colonizing a new world. So were the Germans. They captured Sam and his men, and they captured our landing party. They had a scientist along, Himmel, one of those brilliant but twisted chaps. He had a list of frequencies to other planets the builders of the outpost could travel to or from. We appropriated his notes after he…ah…died. We only escaped the Germans because the building decided to blow up.”
