Crystal Rain

by Tobias S. Buckell

  Before they passed out from in between the hills of the Lantails, John had another decision to make.

  John crawled out of the crow’s nest.

  When his feet his the deck, he walked forward toward the bowsprit. At the wooden, slatted doors of the sail locker the two shirtless mongoose guards got up and saluted him.

  “Pepper, you there?” John hit the slats with the palm of his hand. “Pepper?”

  “I’m here,” Pepper said.

  “We’re at the Lantails.”

  “Not bad.”

  John crouched by the door and looked in. He could only see dark shadows between the tiny pieces of wood.

  “So what am I supposed to do with you?” John asked. “You say you aren’t the one who blew up the back of the boat, you know my son is okay, and you seem to know a lot about what is going on.” John looked around. “Should I leave you here on these islands?”

  “That wouldn’t be good. Your survival depends on me.”

  “Really? Do you have another trap waiting for us? Will it go off if you aren’t appeased?”

  “John.” Pepper sighed. “I’m not that kind of person.”

  “Maybe, but I can’t really be sure, can I?”

  “That’s true. Let me out, I’ll find who your saboteur is and save you all sorts of trouble.”

  “No.”

  “Come on, John.” Pepper’s eyes appeared between the slats as he leaned forward. John wondered if Pepper would be able to survive on the rocky Lantails, and if it was fair to maroon any man on mere suspicions.

  The steamship rocked some as it encountered choppy water. They would be rounding the cliffs and heading back out toward open water. John had twenty minutes to decide whether to throw Pepper into one of the skiffs with enough food to live on the Lantails until the next fishing boat came out.

  Which might not be for months.

  “Hey!” The two men in the crow’s nest shouted. “Them boat!”

  John jumped up. A faint boom reached them on the deck. He scrambled up to the railing and looked out in front of La Revanche. A geyser of water erupted just off the bow. He raced over to the other side. A large green ship with full canvas bore down on them. It had been hidden by the cliffs and islands. Damn it. Damn it. They’d have to turn and run, skirt the islands and reefs, lose time.

  A second shot from its bow gun whistled overhead.

  “A trap,” Harrison shouted, coming up from belowdecks. He had his shirt in his left hand and a rifle in his right.

  “Get your rifles!” John yelled. “Uncover the deck gun.”

  “John,” Pepper said from the sail locker. “Don’t forget the other two ships.”

  Right. John ran down the deck, dodging ropes and tackle, crew and hatches. He stopped amidships and leaned back to shout at the crow’s nest.

  One man had crawled out and clambered halfway down the nets.

  “What the hell are you doing?” John shouted.

  “I coming down.”

  “The hell you are. There might be two other ships out there. Find them and tell me where they are.”

  Another shot landed fifteen feet short of La Revanche’s side. The spray drifted over the rail. John took a good look at the Azteca ship. It was sail-powered; he couldn’t see a smokestack anywhere. They could outrun it if they lasted through the shelling. He walked down the deck to Barclay.

  “In all of this time the Azteca never make a ship. We ain’t really made for fighting,” Barclay said.

  The deck gun was being uncovered from its waterproof canvas by two mongoose-men. A third mongoose-man stumbled up from under the hold with a single shell. Another came behind him with another, and two more struggled topside with a trunk of ammunition.

  “We’ll improvise,” John said as they swiveled the barrel to face the Azteca ship. “Get everyone armed. We going as fast as we can?”

  “As fast as we go get without busting something,” Barclay said.

  Harrison walked up to them, pulling on his shirt. He looked at the Azteca ship. “Ten minute before she catch us,” he estimated. “I say turn around, skirt the island.”

  La Revanche steamed straight north, and the Azteca ship came down at an angle off the starboard bow.

  “Reef on either side,” John said. It’d be hard to dodge the other ship. He looked down the channel they’d steamed their way up. Harrison was right. He opened his mouth to give the order.

  “Them other two ship behind we” came the word from the crow’s nest. John reached for Barclay’s spyglass and took a look. The other two ships Pepper had warned him about rounded the channel behind them. They couldn’t catch La Revanche, but they had cut them off.

  “What we go do?” Barclay asked.

  John looked at the large, yellowed sails of the Azteca boat. Another boom and puff of smoke from the front of that ship, and this time they heard a whistle close overhead, twanging some rigging. Everyone ducked. The shot landed fifty yards on the other side.

  “We go forward. Faster,” John said. Barclay opened his mouth and John kept going. “Tell your engineer to go faster or we all die.”

  “Okay.” Barclay ran down to the nearest companionway. He grabbed the wooden trim, his fingers scraping the edge, then disappeared below with a jump.

  John ran midships as he watched the progress of the Azteca ship long enough to make sure they would intersect La Revanche.

  “What that on them sail?” someone behind him asked. John frowned and looked at the image on the advancing ship’s full sails.

  “A lady’s face.” The face in question had tassels hanging down from either side, and blue and white shapes decorated the edges.

  “Chalchihuitlicue.” Oaxyctl leaned against the rail next to John. He held his atlatl in one hand and throwing spears bundled in the other. “Jade Skirt Goddess, She Who Was the Water. Those are her symbols.”

  Appropriate for Azteca sailors, John thought.

  La Revanche’s gun fired. A cloud of smoke floated out over the rear cabin. Mongoose-men lined up on deck and checked their rifles.

  Harrison joined them. “They go ram we?” he asked.

  “They might. All they have to do is stop us, and then wait for the other two ships to pick them up if they sink,” John said. “They can afford to lose a boat.”

  “If she bow got good wood, or some metal in it, it go tear we side up real bad.”

  “True.” John watched. Another shot made everyone on deck flinch. An upper boom cracked and fell down into the rigging. La Revanche responded with a shot of her own.

  “We have more maneuverability and speed,” John said. “We need to use that.” He walked back down toward the helmsman, dodging a pile of rope. La Revanche’s gun fired again, deafening him.

  The Azteca ship fired back; it sounded louder now that it was closer. Small pops carried over the foaming water; Azteca rifles. The mongoose-men returned shots, but Major Avasa shouted for them to wait. The Azteca ship was still too far away.

  “Here’s what we’re going to do,” John yelled at the helmsman, standing so he could talk and watch the Azteca ship. “Wait until the last minute, then turn hard right to try and get around him. We don’t want him to hit us. We need to hit him while getting around him. Understand?”

  The helmsman nodded. The Azteca ship came from La Revanche’s northeast and La Revanche steamed straight north. The Azteca had a sail ship; it would take a while for them to turn and keep La Revanche boxed in. La Revanche could steam north hard, wait until the last second, then turn hard east and get around the Azteca ship. But it would be tight with the reefs on either side.

  La Revanche fired. The men on the gun cheered as they hit something.

  “And have someone bring up your replacement, have him lay low, in case you get hit.”

  The helmsman’s eyes widened. The Azteca ship fired back. A whistling sound snapped through the air, and the sound of exploding wood made everyone jump. The middle of the starboard rail sagged. Three sailors lay in a bloody h
eap on the deck, one moaning. John’s heart raced.

  “I go do that.” The helmsman turned and yelled at one of the sailors on deck to come be his replacement.

  “Barclay,” John yelled. Barclay had come back up topside. “We’re going to turn hard right in a minute and try to go behind them.”

  Barclay actually grinned. “I see. Engine full astern for the turn, get back up to speed. I like it.”

  “I’m going forward.”

  John walked forward. This wasn’t Capitol City, but they were going to face Azteca. It almost felt good, being forced into this trap. The wind kicked up, tussling John’s hair and the edges of his shirt. It gave the Azteca ship more speed, and the Azteca sailors used the opportunity to try to put their ship almost dead in front of La Revanche.

  “Shit.” La Revanche fired again.

  “Here.” One of the mongoose-men handed John a rifle.

  “Everyone move to the port side,” John yelled. “That’s where they’ll hit us.” Mongoose-men moved to the left side of the bow, though the Azteca ship was off the starboard bow and they couldn’t shoot their rifles at it now.

  John put his hook into the trigger guard but behind the trigger and let the rifle dangle as he continued toward the bow. The Azteca’s sails loomed, the larger-than-life caricature of their water goddess looking down at them. It closed in fast, sail canvas taut with the wind, and La Revanche strained forward through the water to meet her.

  The Azteca’s guns kept firing, smacking into the metal sides, tearing at the rigging, and exploding into the water around them. The mongoose-men kept La Revanche’s single gun firing.

  John looked back at the helmsman. “Hard starboard,” he shouted. Sailors repeated the shout down the side of the ship. The steam engine beneath vibrated the entire hull as they started the maneuver, engines churning in full reverse. La Revanche turned east and the two ships faced each other bow to bow.

  La Revanche kept turning. Now the Azteca ship was off the port side of the bow, not the starboard.

  “Now!” Avasa yelled. The mongoose-men fired their rifles in series.

  “Go, go, go,” John screamed.

  La Revanche surged forward. The Azteca ship let its sails flutter in the wind as they tried to turn in and still hit La Revanche. John had them steaming for the reefs, but the Azteca ship was still trying to turn into their side and ram them. They hadn’t dodged her yet.

  The mongoose-men kept up the volley of fire. John could see the Azteca on the other ship running to switch sides, shouting at them. Several stumbled and fell to the deck, dead by mongoose fire.

  La Revanche was turning north again, squeezing by reef and Azteca. John’s hope was that they would strike the other ship hard, and their momentum would carry them right past and out into open ocean.

  “Watch for grappling hooks,” John shouted. “We’re going to hit.” He grabbed rigging.

  The two ships closed and struck. John swayed but held on. La Revanche’s bow raked down the Azteca ship’s port side. Azteca leaped aboard, several missing and falling into the frothy water between.

  Three hooks with lines landed on the deck and began to scrape along until they snagged something. Sailors ran with machetes to chop at them. One rope snapped into the face of the man chopping at it. Azteca swarmed aboard La Revanche, swinging by ropes or jumping aboard.

  John got his balance and raised his gun to his good hand. He fired at the first warrior in padded cotton armor and a feathered mask. The man fell back over the rail into the sea.

  Another dodged a mongoose-man with a well-placed knife and rushed John with an aimed pistol.

  John struggled to aim the rifle with his hook.

  Several feet behind him, the locker door erupted in splinters that rained down around John’s feet. A small dart struck the Azteca. The Azteca fired and fell forward. John’s left thigh exploded with pain. He fell to the deck.

  Pepper crouched over John. John groaned and clenched his eyes. Pepper pulled him back into the locker, ripped off his shirt, and handed it to John. “Hold that on the wound. I’ll be back.”

  Pepper stepped out of the dark locker into the light and noise of the deck battle. John closed his eyes, but not before he heard the screaming begin.

  Fifteen minutes later Pepper shook him awake. Barclay stood next to him, looking on.

  Pepper’s skin dripped blood. His own and others’. Slashed pieces of skin hung from his arms and chest. A bullet hole in his shoulder oozed blood.

  “I don’t guess medicine is too highly advanced here,” he said. “Your injury could be very bad.”

  “We get around that ship. What should we do?” Barclay asked. “Turn and fight? Go home? They could catch up with we when get to ice.”

  John shook his head. “Keep going north. Outrun them.”

  Barclay nodded and backed out of the sail locker.

  Pepper picked John up, and John passed out again as he was lifted off the coils of bloodied rope beneath him.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

  The Loa dragged the metallic tips of its pale tentacles over the floor and wheezed from the effort of moving as it came into Dihana’s office. She stood up, surprised to see it alone.

  “This is the last time we speak,” it said.

  “Is there something I have done?” Dihana had been good to them, accepting, including them in every update and discussion about city defense. And they had offered nothing, just listened, since the ship had left for the icy north. That was all they had wanted. They didn’t seem to care about anything else.

  “No,” it said. “We have seen the information, we know the odds. Even with the mission to the north, with the man deBrun, the assembly met and decided we should not stay in sight or risk capture. It is time for us to hide and let things happen as they may without our presence.”

  “Let things happen,” Dihana snorted. “What is it you want from us? Why should we allow you to live among us?”

  The Loa considered it, then said, “If our memories are correct, faded though they are, then the Teotl and my kind are both from the same stock. We were ambassadors to this region, and we disagreed over how to deal with the human problem. Our cousins still walk the faraway stars. If the Teotl win domination of this planet, they will recommend subjugation of your kind when my kind return in great numbers. We prefer subtler methods of manipulation that do not involve needless force. However both our efforts to aid you technologically and bring you to self-sufficient military strength have failed disastrously and led to all this. So, we hide, deep in the shadows. We hide and hope that we can survive and still influence things once the rest of our kind come through the wormholes.”

  In the face of all that information Dihana had one question. “Hide? Where can you hide? The Azteca have Limkin, only three towns stand between them and our walls now. And what if the expedition returns with the Ma Wi Jung, how will you help us with it?”

  “The expedition has one of our own on it, waiting until you get to the north to assist your expedition. It will come out of hiding to reveal itself when you arrive, and when the expedition returns, will contact us. If we told you where you could find us, you might betray us.” The Loa rustled around in the wicker chair and pulled something out from a pocket along the arm’s chair. “We have something for you, though. We have spent a few generations creating something for this instance.”

  It placed a small gourd on her desk, with a wax-sealed top.

  “What is this?”

  Tired eyes looked at Dihana. “When all hope is lost,” it told her, “when there is no other recourse, release this into your water supply.”

  “What will it do?” Dihana looked down at the being in the chair.

  The Loa sighed. “It will kill everything. A plague that spreads swiftly through your packed city and beyond. The death will spread all the way back over the mountains when the Azteca try to retreat from it. It will spread through them, eat them alive. But more importantly, it looks for the Teotl and will eat them as
well.”

  Dihana looked down at the gourd and swallowed. “How can you expect me to kill my own people, the entire city? This whole world?”

  The Loa took a deep breath. “It is a last measure.”

  “You have no cure for this? Even for yourselves?”

  “No, we do not. That is why we hide now. Take this if you will. Or do not. It is your choice.” The Loa turned the wicker chair around. As it squeaked out of the door, Dihana held up the gourd.

  “It shouldn’t have been my choice. You are just too cowardly to make and face this decision yourselves. You leave to hide from it all.”

  Could she get mongoose-men to stop them? What would happen if she tried? Revolts? More trouble in the city than she was already managing?

  She couldn’t.

  A word struck her: generations.

  “Did my father know of this?” Dihana walked out into the corridor after the Loa. The Loa continued scraping down the corridor. “Answer me, or I will call the guards and you won’t be able to join your friends in hiding.”

  The Loa paused. “Yes, Dihana. Your father knew of these things.”

  Mother Elene ran to the Ministry building. She stopped when mongoose-men aimed rifles at her. By the time Dihana came down to the lawn, Mother Elene had collapsed on the grass.

  “They gone,” she cried. “They leave.”

  Dihana crouched next to her. “They didn’t warn you?”

  Mother Elene shook her head. Her silver earrings danced with the motion. “Where they go? You know?”

  “They wouldn’t tell me.”

  Mother Elene wrapped her arms around her knees and sobbed. A priestess whose gods had left her. “Mother Elene.” Dihana put a hand on her shoulder and moved around in front of her. “Did they leave you gourds of any sort, with instructions?”

  Mother Elene nodded. “There are three of them.”

  “I know this is a bad time, but you must give those up to me. You understand? I know the Loa have given up, but we haven’t. We can fight the Azteca. Please do as I say.” Dihana stood up and pointed at two mongoose-men. “Follow her back, make sure she brings the gourds back. Make sure I get all three.”