by Eric Flint
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“Now, tell me what’s happened.”
“My brother is dead!” Manuel said, and she barely reacted.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Lakshmi said, not as though she were surprised. “We’d heard he joined the Genoese, but didn’t want to say anything.”
“There’s no proof that he betrayed us. He was sent as an embassy. All we know is that the embassy failed. Maybe Andronikos thought the Genoese were only bringing him home. It was all that girl’s fault. If she hadn’t sunk the flagship, Andronikos would still be alive.
“But she’s going to be punished. She’s not part of your delegation, and no one gave her permission to enchant that model kraken. Once the mob is over their infatuation, she’s going to burn and the kraken with her.”
“She didn’t,” Lakshmi said. “You know as well as I do that Wilber enchanted the Jane. And Wilber does have diplomatic immunity, as your father agreed. Unless you’re planning on revoking it?”
“She killed my brother!” Manuel said. “Whatever he was, whatever he did, he was my brother.” He turned and left her standing there. He couldn’t understand how she could be so heartless.
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Lakshmi did feel for him, but she was scared. She didn’t know what to do. Should she tell Wilber or Aurelia how furious the royal family was? But that would be betraying Manuel’s trust, and she couldn’t bring herself to do that.
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DW had no doubts at all. It was a director’s job to do what needed to be done for his star, even if she couldn’t bring herself to do it. He was on the horn to Pucorl before the prince was out of the room.
Rickover, formerly Clausewitz, Aurelia’s new phone as determined by Themis, was informed, and Jane learned what was up as soon as she surfaced that evening.
Location: Aurelia’s Room, Crassus House, Constantinople
Time: 5:30 PM, August 3, 1373
Her phone rang, ooogah ooogah ooogah, loud enough to wake the dead, which was fairly close to what Aurelia was. She had spent last night at the bottom of the sea, searching for guns and loot to repay her debt to Roger for Rickover. Three more demon-locks and a chest of silver. The flagship had the pay chests on it.
“Aurelia, we have a call from Pucorl,” Rickover said as soon as she was sitting up.
“You woke me because the van wants to chat?”
“Apparently not entirely, if you think I would do such a thing without good reason.”
Rickover was something of a stuffed shirt. And even a martinet. But he knew his stuff and he cared about her and Jane.
“Sorry, Admiral. What’s up?” She picked up the phone and put it to her ear.
“They are going to kill you,” Pucorl said.
“Who?” Aurelia asked, though she had a horrible suspicion that she knew.
“The House Palaiologos. They blame you for Andronikos’ death. And I think they are afraid of your popularity. I think they are going to use the church, and have you declared a witch.”
That was exactly how they would do it. She knew, all of Constantinople knew, that the only thing keeping the patriarch from going after the French delegation was that the emperor could remove and replace him. If John V were to let him loose on her, she had to get away. But how? She couldn’t leave her family. She couldn’t.
She tried to think. She needed to talk to her mother, and even her father.
She got up and put on a gown, a new gown with buttons up the front, and went to see her parents. Mother was going over the family accounts. “What is it, Aurelia?” Sidonia asked.
Aurelia told her.
“We need to tell your father.”
“Must we?”
“Yes, child. I know he’s excitable, but he knows the politics of Constantinople better than anyone I know.”
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Gaius was in the receiving room, discussing politics over wine with Theodore Meliteniotes and two other senatorial class gentlemen.
“Is this important, my dear? We are discussing matters of state,” Gaius said portentously.
“Now, now, Gaius, my old friend,” said Theodore. “Surely we can spare you the time after your daughter has been instrumental in saving Constantinople from the Genoese. The ladies must have their fripperies, after all.”
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“This is a disaster!” Gaius shouted, then put his hand over his mouth. They were back in Sidonia’s workroom, three doors away from the receiving room. “This is a disaster,” he repeated in a sibilant hiss. “It will ruin the family. How could you have allowed this?” He pointed accusingly at his wife. He had to get Aurelia out of Constantinople. The royal family would kill her if she stayed. But if she ran . . .
It was a disaster. If Aurelia escaped, the royal house might well come after him and the rest of the family. He would have to disown her. If he didn’t, nothing would protect the family. And even that might not be enough.
He looked at his daughter. So proud and so capable. She had saved Constantinople and now would have to run from it, never to return. And if it was discovered that the family had helped her escape . . .
Wait . . .
She had to die. And she had to die in defense of Constantinople.
But how could that be accomplished without his daughter truly dying?
“Aurelia, could we fake your death?” He asked. “I mean, your death and the loss of the Jane, while you were bravely fighting the Genoese?”
“I think so, Father. Jennifer and Rickover have talked about blowing out ballast and some other things that submarines did to convince ships with depth charges that they were already dead so they could escape.”
Gaius called a servant. “Go to the receiving room and tell our guests I will be delayed. Something about gowns for the royal gala next week, and the cost of cloth.”
It took the rest of the night, consulting with Rickover and a call to Jennifer Fairbanks to work out the plan. Rickover knew about submarine tactics, and could point out several cases where submarines were lost after combat and accidents that happened. It also took a day and a half to put together the materials. He specifically told Jennifer and her phone, Silvore, not to tell anyone, even other demons, and certainly not the other twenty-firsters, about their plan. “Top secret, need to know. No one who doesn’t absolutely need to know can be told.”
The off-duty body for Joe Kraken was almost completed now, even with all the other projects that were ongoing, and between the building of the Jane and the building of the new Joe, there were a lot of scraps. Some of those scraps went missing.
Location: Crassus Warehouse, Constantinople
Time: 9:30 PM, August 6, 1373
Aurelia picked up the panel. It was tightly woven linen cloth painted with pine resin impregnated with silicon, selenium, and phosphors. It was also curvy and had loose threads because it was excess cut off the Joe Kraken submarine which was under construction right now. It looked like exactly what it was, a scrap left over from the making of a submarine, not an actual part of a submarine.
“It will do,” Rickover said. “It’s supposed to look like the Jane blew up, killing you and sending me and Jane back to the netherworld.”
Aurelia took the piece out to the dock and dropped it into the water beside Jane Kraken who grabbed it with a tentacle and stowed it in back. Then there was a chunk of battery body.
“Leave that,” Rickover said. “It would sink. Lead and ceramic filled with acid would go straight to the bottom if a mine blew while we were twenty feet down. Take those leather strips instead. They will look like tentacles that have been torn up by the blast.”
It went on like that for the better part of an hour, sorting the junk in the warehouse into what would be found on the surface and what would be lost to the deep.
Then they were ready.
Location: The Jane, in Kadıköy Harbor
Time: 11: 43 PM, August 6, 1373
Aurelia set the timer for twenty minutes and handed th
e mine to Jane, who used her left long tentacle to thump it onto the hull of a docked galley. They placed another, then another, and headed out to sea. A quarter mile out on a line back to Constantinople, Jane stopped and started emptying the storage and letting the detritus float to the surface Then they waited.
“Five minutes,” Rickover said. “It’s time.”
In another five minutes, the first of the mines laid in Kadıköy Harbor would go off, then the next two at thirty second intervals.
Aurelia set the timer for six minutes and handed Jane the mine. Once Jane released it, it would float slowly to the surface since it had a bit more than neutral buoyancy.
“Okay, Jane. Let’s get out of here.”
Jane got, but not back to Constantinople. She would head for Lemnos, where Aurelia’s family had a factor and a warehouse. This was risky in two ways, for if the factor wasn’t loyal to the family, or even let knowledge of her presence slip by accident, it would get back to John V that she was alive and that her father helped her escape. And he might well take her captive and sell her back to John V. But it was the best they had been able to come up with.
Jane, as was her preference, swam for several hours at a depth of around twenty feet. Then she rose to the surface and cycled the air. Aurelia opened the top hatch and breathed in the night air for a while, thinking about the last few days. Her father would tell everyone that having found salvage since the attack, she was planning to renew her attacks on the Genoese fleet. That, along with the explosions, would explain her absence. She thought about her mother and her family, about Jennifer, and—all against her will—her thoughts kept returning to Wilber Hyde-Davis as he worked on spells. Finally, she closed back up and they went under again.
So it went. Aurelia ate bread and cheese, and drank watered wine.
Chapter 21—Rumor
Location: Magnaura, Constantinople
Time: Midmorning, August 7, 1373
Leonitus Crassus looked at the pendulum clock that now stood in the great hall of the Magnaura. It was broken again, the front open, and two students working on the innards. He shook his head and went on to class.
It was a lecture on mechanics, taught by Professor Kafatos, who was studying with Annabelle Cooper-Smith. It was an interesting lecture, though Leonitus wasn’t sure how much use such devices really were. There were, after all, slaves and peasants to do most of the things that a pressure engine could do, and they were cheaper than the engine, besides. And anyway, it wasn’t really the proper sort of work for a son of the senatorial class. There was a quote he particularly liked that was gotten indirectly from Bill Howe, who was working on a “police force” with the royal family. It went “A gentleman’s sole duty is to fight and to pray,” and was from someone called Jackson of the Stone Wall. There was also politics, but the point was the same. Men of high station weren’t meant to be mechanics.
After class, Thomas came over and put a hand on his shoulder. “I heard. You must be distraught, my friend. But don’t worry. She’s probably just busy looking for more loot to pay for that phone.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I heard that Aurelia didn’t return last night. Surely you knew that.”
“How did you hear?”
“There are peasants who watch the docks,” Thomas said. “You know that.”
Leo did know that, but he had forgotten in the planning for Aurelia’s escape. He looked over at his friend, and remembered Rickover’s insistence on “need to know” secrecy. But Thomas had the story wrong. There was nothing in it about the resumed attacks. He had to explain, because the cover story was important for the family. They didn’t want people thinking that Aurelia died trying to salvage junk from the bottom of the Marmara. He couldn’t let that stand.
Thomas, aside from his constant use of the phrase “surely you know that,” not only in debate, but in regular speech as well, was usually clever and a good judge of people. He was also influential in terms of their fellows in the Magnaura.
So he pulled his friend into an alcove and told him, “She wasn’t salvaging last night. She was renewing the attack on the Genoese fleet.”
Thomas looked at him. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of. Everyone knows how expensive that demon-enchanted phone of hers was. You don’t have to lie.”
Damn! Leonitus could never get a lie past Thomas, even when they were kids. “No, Thomas.” Leonitus dithered for a moment then realized that he had to tell Thomas the truth, or it would be all over the Magnaura that she died looking for treasure, not defending the city. “All right. I’ll tell you what really happened, but you have to keep it secret, and you have to help convince people that what I just told you is true. And it is, at least partly.”
After Leonitus told Thomas about the plot against Aurelia and their faking her death, Thomas promised that he would help.
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Thomas would help, but in his own way. The Palaiologos were a curse on Constantinople. He was convinced of that, as was his father. It had to be known that they had betrayed a heroine of the city for their own reasons. That Andronikos had betrayed the city to the Genoese. That had to be known.
From there the rumors spread.
Location: Guest Quarters, Magnaura, Constantinople
Time: 10:32 AM, August 7, 1373
Wilber sat at the table in their rooms, looking out a window toward the docks. The docks where the Jane wasn’t. The docks that Aurelia had not returned to this morning. And he knew she was dead.
He poured himself another goblet of the winter wine, and drank it down as images of Aurelia danced across his mind. Her eyes. Her laugh. Her mouth as she bit her thumbnail while she was concentrating. Her hands as she worked on the Jane or loaded gear.
Aurelia arguing with a ship’s captain about the cost of Russian furs shipped down from the Black Sea.
Aurelia laughing with Jennifer about a bit of physics, or joking with Pucorl about his “romance” with Annabelle. Aurelia arguing with him about the nature of demons and magic.
He realized—say better, faced up to—the fact that he loved her and hadn’t told her, and now it was too late. What a coward he was! He should have told her, let her know, however she would have responded, so at least she would know when she went down in the Jane that there was a man who loved her.
Man, hell. Boy, more like.
Maybe it was a good thing that he hadn’t told her. At least it saved her having to tell him to pound sand.
Jennifer Fairbanks breezed through the door, looked at Wilber and asked, “What’s wrong with you? Did your dog die? Wait— You don’t have a dog. So there’s no excuse at all.”
“Are you nuts? Aurelia didn’t come back this morning! She was going to resume her attacks on the Genoese. They must have gotten her. Her phone’s out of range, so it’s either back at the bottom or destroyed. And that means she’s dead!”
Jennifer looked at Wilber, then at the almost empty flagon of wine. “This doesn’t make sense, Wilber. You don’t even like her!”
Even now, it was hard for Wilber to say, to admit even to himself. “No. I loved her. I just didn’t have the guts to admit it. Not even to myself.”
Jennifer came over and put an arm around his shoulder. “Sorry, Wilber. I didn’t know.”
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After she left Wilber, Jennifer called Aurelia. As it happened, the Jane was on the surface, so the call went through.
“Aurelia,” Jennifer said, “we need to tell Wilber. He’s all broken up. He thinks you’re dead.”
“What are you talking about? He doesn’t even like me. He doesn’t like any of the uncultured, primitive girls of Constantinople. Especially not me!”
“Well, he’s sitting at a table, a couple of rooms away, getting totally plastered and admitting that he loved you and didn’t have the guts to tell you.”
“It’s the wine talking.”
“In vino veritas.”
“In any case, you can’t tell him,�
� Rickover interrupted. “Trust me on this. His being broken up about her death doesn’t constitute need to know.”
“I wasn’t asking you, Admiral,” Jennifer said. “And this is a private conversation.”
“He’s right, though,” Aurelia said. “And he’s our expert on this, so we should listen to him. I’m sorry about Wilber, but . . .”
“Don’t you care at all?”
There was a silence, then, “Yes, I think I do. Thinking of Wilber as something other than the jerk twenty-firster is new to me, but I do care. I just don’t know why yet.”
Location: Royal Chambers, Constantinople
Time: 11:36 AM, August 10, 1373
Manuel looked at the face of his phone as he reached his mother’s rooms. It showed the time, the date, and the weather. All of which it got second hand from the real phones and computers of the twenty-firsters. Even his father didn’t have a real phone. He should have.
He should have had the phone that Roger lost, the one that the Crassa girl got. The one that was again at the bottom of the sea. He looked at the finely painted wooden model of a phone that was the best he could get, put it back in his pocket, and gestured to the guard, who opened the door.
“Did you warn her?” his mother asked even before he was fully into her sitting room.
“Warn who?”
“Aurelia Crassa.”
“She’s dead.”
“No, she’s not.” His mother stopped and took a breath. “At least, she may not be. There is a rumor that she didn’t die, but having heard of our plans for her, ran away. The coward.”
Suddenly it all slid into place like the pieces of a puzzle. Her death was amazingly convenient, especially the timing. It was after they had learned about Andronikos and decided to see her punished, but before they had taken any action. Before they had even told anyone. He remembered feeling relieved when she went missing, presumably dead at the bottom of Kadıköy harbor. Relieved that she was dead, and his family didn’t have to get their hands dirty. That, at least this time, they wouldn’t get their hands dirty. That she might know and fake her death had not even occurred to him. But now that the idea was brought to his attention, it made sense.
