Aetherium (Omnibus Edition)

by Joseph Robert Lewis

  Qhora’s face betrayed no emotion. “I’ll do whatever needs doing. Thank you for your services thus far, captain. We will return as soon as we can so we may all leave this place.”

  Taziri nodded and watched the two women climb out the hatch and step down to the ground.

  Salvator Fabris was still in his seat. He smiled. “Don’t worry, captain. I can promise you that this time, all of your passengers will be returning home as planned.”

  Taziri rested her hand on the white-handled revolver on her hip. “See that they do. Call it an all-or-nothing proposition, Mister Fabris. If you don’t bring them back, I won’t bring you back. And be quick about it. Sooner or later, someone is going to notice the Halcyon, and I only have so many bullets.”

  The Italian stood and sighed. “Yes, captain, just remember to look before you shoot. It would be a terrible pity if you were to kill the wrong person out there. I for one would be quite distraught if you killed me. Good evening, captain. Sleep well.”

  He gave her a strange look, one bordering between amusement and deadly hatred, and he stepped out the hatch.

  Taziri climbed out to watch her three passengers striding across the rail yard until they disappeared around the corner of the station. Already it was too dark to see anything very clearly, though the stars were beginning to poke out here and there beyond the thin gray clouds. She ducked back inside for a moment and then climbed out with an old folded tarp under her arm and threw it over the back half of the Halcyon, and then tossed a few stones and fistfuls of dust and dirt on top of it. She had parked her machine at the end of the yard, under the overhang of a roof and behind a row of freight cars to shield her from casual observers at the train station.

  Still.

  She checked that her revolver was loaded, and she checked her spare ammunition, and then she rolled up her left sleeve. The medical brace gleamed darkly beneath the stars. She pressed the release button and the top panel sprung up with a quiet twang and hiss to reveal the custom revolver mounted in the hollow space where her muscle used to be, before the fire ravaged her flesh. The trigger mechanism swung out sharply, placing the trigger in her left palm. She loaded the gun and then pushed it back down into place. The brace clicked shut and she rolled her sleeve down.

  With nothing left to do, she locked the hatch and lay down on the floor of the cabin with another old tarp as a bedroll and pillow. It was still very early in the evening, but after flying straight through the prior night and then again all afternoon, her eyes and back and shoulders were all crying for a few hours’ peace.

  She gave herself a few minutes to worry over whether or not she would see Menna again soon, and then fell asleep.

  Bang.

  Bang-bang.

  Taziri sat up clutching her gun. She could hear muffled voices outside. Male voices. Heavy footsteps on the gravel.

  Two, maybe three men.

  Instantly her heart was pounding in her throat.

  How did they find me so fast? They must have watched me land, or saw me roll into the station. Damn it! This was stupid, stupid, stupid!

  A silent snarl bared her teeth as she drew her gun and crept to the hatch and peeked out through the armored glass.

  There were three young men standing beside the Halcyon. They were talking with their backs mostly toward the machine. Taziri squinted, trying to see better in the shadowy gloom.

  The youths laughed, then did a strange little dance or mock fight, and one of them was hurled stumbling against the Halcyon.

  Bang.

  Taziri exhaled.

  They’re just kids. Just stupid kids, out being stupid. They’re not here for me. They don’t even see me. Hell, they probably wouldn’t care if they did see me.

  A few minutes later, a fourth young man appeared with a bag and the foursome all sat down in a little circle. Taziri watched them drink from what was clearly an Italian wine bottle and play at something that looked like dice.

  For an hour, she crouched by the window and watched. Finally, they tossed the empty bottle against the wall in front of the Halcyon.

  Crash.

  And then they sauntered away, shoes crunching on the gravel, talking quietly and laughing loudly. When they were gone, Taziri laid back down on her old tarp and stared up at the ceiling of the cabin for a long time.

  A very long time.

  This is going to be a long night.

  Eventually, she fell asleep again.

  Chapter 7

  “They spoiled me,” Shifrah said as she stared out over the water.

  “How so?” Aker stood next to her, leaning over the rail. The steamer was still churning steadily across the Middle Sea, just barely within sight of land, which had been a dark line on the southern horizon all day but now was visible only by the lights of the towns along the coast.

  Shifrah smiled. “In Marrakesh, everything is fast, and I mean everything. You can get anything to eat at any time of day. The shops sell every sort of clothing and tools and toys from every country in this half of the world, and probably a few from the other half, too. The trains and airships run every day, inside the country at least. And the telegraphs. Have you ever sent a telegram, Aker?”

  He shook his head.

  “It’s a strange sort of power. It’s not like watching someone die, but it is…intoxicating, all the same. Being able to say anything to anyone, anywhere. Reaching out across hundreds of miles in an instant.” Shifrah smiled and shook her head. “You can get used to that sort of thing. I did. I had contacts all over the country, people I never needed to visit, or even meet. I could gather information or arrange jobs just by visiting the telegraph office, and then spend the rest of the day at the shops. I even have a bank account.”

  Aker laughed.

  Shifrah smirked. “Yeah, I know. Most of my money is stashed, but just a little is in the bank. They pay you to put it there, you know.”

  “Do they really?” Aker gazed out over the water. “And now you have to give up all the magic and glamour of your heavenly life to come home, back to reality.”

  Shifrah’s smiled faded and she sighed. “It looks that way.”

  “Pity. I didn’t mean to ruin your setup. But these things have a way of happening.”

  She nodded. “I know.”

  “Which brings us to your little elephant.” He looked sharply at her.

  “Who, Kenan?” She glanced at him. “He might be a problem. He might not. He’s hard to read, really. When I met him, he was in uniform. But that didn’t last long. He plays by some funny rules, but he does play. I think if we just manage him the right way, Kenan could be more of an asset than a liability.”

  “You like him.”

  “Of course. But I like watching him even more.” A hint of a smile played on her lips. “There’s something just a little bit ingenious about him, just a little bit insane, when he’s really pushed. When he’s angry or desperate, that’s when the real Kenan comes out. And he is something to see.”

  “And the rest of the time?”

  She shrugged. “The rest of the time, he’s just a man. Like you, actually. He watches his money like a hawk, he complains, he wants to be left alone, he wants attention, and he wants sex.”

  “He’s a lawman.”

  “He’s a patriot. There’s a difference.”

  “Not from where I’m standing.” Aker straightened up. “We’ll be in Alexandria soon. I’ll take you around and re-introduce you to the people in charge. Things have changed a bit in the last few years.”

  “I want to see Omar. Or look for him, I mean. Ask around, see what people know. He might still be out there somewhere.”

  “Yes, and Atlantia might still be above sea level, but I wouldn’t bet on it.” Aker paced away. “But I’ll take you around, just the same. I am curious to see who’s been sending you your jobs lately.”

  “Any ideas?”

  “Just one.” And he left.

  Shifrah waited until he was gone before she followed him back
to the hatch and climbed below to find Kenan. The scowling Mazigh detective was waiting for her in her bunk, stretched out with his hands behind his head. “Are you seriously considering killing me?”

  Shifrah paused in the open doorway, then stepped inside and shut the door. “Not seriously. But it is on the table. It’s all up to you now. Why? Should I kill you? After all we’ve been through? I’d rather not.”

  She sat down beside him and looked down at his face. He wasn’t quite grown yet, still showing traces of softness around the eyes and jaw, though his nearly perpetual frowning had done much to age him. He didn’t sleep enough, which shadowed his eyes, and he didn’t eat enough, which kept him lean even though he never exercised. She had tried several times to get him to run and spar with her, but he said it reminded him too much of the army, and what was the point of training with a knife when he had a gun?

  “I thought all of this was behind you,” he said. “I thought we were building something. New lives, new work.”

  She shook her head. “No. It was a new life for you. Same one for me.”

  “And this Omar person is the one who got you into it? What happened? Did he find you on the street, saw some potential, and trained you up as his pet killer?” Kenan didn’t look at her. His tired gaze drifted across the ceiling.

  “Hardly. I started knife fighting when I was fourteen. First kill at sixteen. First contract at seventeen. And all long before I met Omar.”

  “And none of that bothers you?”

  She could feel the smug condescension radiating from his whole body. They’d been down this road before many times, in one fashion or another. “Did you think I was some poor starving waif living on the street and stealing my bread? Or maybe I was selling my body to fat drunken slobs?” She shook her head. “I’ve never stolen anything in my life. And no one has ever touched me without my permission. I kill for a living, and I kill because I’m good at it. I don’t create the work, I just take the jobs, and there was no shortage of jobs in Marrakesh, I might add. Husbands who wanted their abusive wives killed. Wives who wanted their cheating husbands killed. Business partners. Gang members.”

  “So it’s just business to you. You don’t feel anything?”

  She glared at him and smacked him on the forehead. “Did you know that there are special accountants in Marrakesh whose whole job is to guess how many people will be killed in this factory or on that railroad?”

  “Sure. They’re called actuaries.”

  “Right. Because your precious modern businesswomen all know that their factories are going to kill people. Guaranteed. But since it’s cheaper to pay off the victims’ families than make the factories safer, they don’t. They let the workers die for no reason, year in and year out. And most of them die horribly mangled, screaming, while their friends watch them in agony, unable to save them.” She pulled out one of her Italian stilettos and held the blade over his eyes. “But every person I kill dies on purpose, for a reason. Maybe they’re good reasons, maybe they aren’t, but never by accident. And never in agony. Always quick, in the back, sliding in between the ribs, straight into the heart. No suffering, no fear. Just a moment of surprise and it’s over.”

  Kenan pushed the knife away from his face with one finger. “It disappoints me that you think your way is better.”

  “And it disgusts me that you don’t.” Shifrah put away her stiletto and leaned away. “We’ll be in Alexandria soon.”

  “Then we need to get ready to leave.”

  “There’s no rush.”

  “Yes, there is.” Kenan sat up. “Don’t you find it just a little strange that we weren’t off that train in Carthage more than a minute before Don Lorenzo’s wife was swinging a knife at me? Haven’t you been wondering how they got there ahead of us?”

  “No. She wanted revenge, but we got away. These things happen.”

  “Stop saying that!” He glared at her and for a moment she saw real venom in his eyes. “These things may happen to you all the time, but they don’t happen to normal people. They don’t happen to me! Now, I’ve been thinking about this all day and the only way to get from Tingis to Carthage ahead of us would be to fly, but there were no scheduled flights last night.”

  “So it was an unscheduled flight.” Shifrah shrugged.

  “There are no unscheduled flights, unless you’re not in the Corps. And I only know one freelance aeronautics engineer and pilot in Tingis. My old boss, Captain Ohana. Personal friend of the Don and his wife. And if they were willing to fly to Carthage to catch us, then they’ll probably be flying on ahead to Alexandria to try again.”

  Shifrah smiled. He’s so rigid, so boxed in by his laws and rules. “Kenan, I don’t think they were trying to catch us. I’m pretty sure they were trying to kill us.”

  “Which is why we don’t want to be on this boat when it arrives in Alexandria. They might be waiting for us again.” He stood up. “I’ll go talk to the captain about borrowing the dinghy so we can row to shore before we reach port.”

  She caught his arm. “Let me. Unless you speak Eranian?”

  His frown faded and he nodded. “Fine.” He sat down again, and this time looked her in the eye. “Listen, I’m sorry. I know you didn’t do this. I know you didn’t kill Quesada, but your friend did, and he brought this mess to our doorstep and ruined my tidy little world. This is not what I was expecting when I came home for supper last night.”

  “I know. And I’m sorry if I don’t seem worried enough, but this is what most of my life has been like. Everything ends, sooner or later. Being alone, with Omar, with Aker, with Sal. And now Marrakesh is over, too. Time to move on. I’m happy to take you with me, wherever I’m going, but you’re the one who is going to need to adjust to the world out there. Not the other way around.”

  “Maybe.” He nodded. “But you’ve changed more than I have. You’re not so cold as before, not so angry. You seem pretty happy most days, and I mean happy in the normal way, not the crazy way. I was starting to think you and I might be together a long time.”

  “Married?” She raised an eyebrow.

  “Maybe, maybe not.”

  “When we get to the city, you’re going to see some bad places, and meet some bad people, and hear some bad things about me.” She leaned close to his neck where she could smell his sweat. “You might not want to marry me after that. You might get the idea that I’ve been a bad girl.”

  “A little late for that.” His mouth hovered near her ear and he whispered, “How long until we arrive?”

  “Long enough.” And she pulled him back into the bunk.

  Afterward, when she was dressed, Shifrah left their little cabin in search of Aker. She caught him admiring his glowing sword down in the shadows of the cargo hold.

  “How’s your friend?” he asked.

  “He’ll be fine. He thinks we should leave and row ashore in case we run into Don Lorenzo’s wife again.”

  Aker grunted. “Who cares? Did you see me back there fighting that fencer? He couldn’t come near me. He was afraid of me.”

  “He was afraid of your sword, the one glowing because it’s practically on fire.”

  “Two hundred and fifty souls,” Aker said. “The blade isn’t hot enough to be dangerous until it claims fifty and it isn’t considered a true seireiken until it claims two hundred. This one holds two hundred and fifty. But the truly great blades, the heavenly swords, hold thousands. Only the masters have them. They say the blades glow perfectly white, and a single stroke can set an entire mountain on fire.”

  Shifrah tried to get a better look at the sword in his hand, but he slid it home into its ceramic scabbard and let his loose green robe obscure the grip at his belt. She said, “That fencer at the rail yard has a name, by the way. Salvator Fabris.”

  “Fabris? Why do I know that name?”

  “He’s one of the Italian masters. He was also my partner for a while, before I met Kenan.” Shifrah crossed her arms and leaned against a crate. “I know Salvator. I’ve
seen him fight. I don’t know exactly how good Don Lorenzo was, but I know Sal, and the old Aker I knew could never have beaten Sal. So who have you been training with?”

  “No one.” Aker grinned. He patted the sword at his hip. “Just the Don himself. I know what he knows. I remember what he remembers. It’s all just images and instincts right now, but it will grow sharper in time.”

  “You’re serious, aren’t you?” She stared at the sword and wondered how long she could let him keep such a thing. Aker was a common mercenary, a blunt weapon with more ambition than sense. He had always talked a big game and when she left him years ago he was still just talking. Clearly, something had changed. “The aetherium in the blade. I mean, I’d heard the stories, but I figured it was all Espani nonsense. Souls and ghosts. But it’s real, isn’t it?”

  “It’s all real. Very real. I admit, most of the souls in here are nothing special, nothing more than fuel for the fire in the blade.” He smirked. “But there have been a few soldiers, a few killers. Their strength and skill and knowledge are in here. And now the master Don Lorenzo is in here too, and I can stand toe to toe with the great Salador Fabee!”

  “Salvator Fabris.”

  “Whatever.”

  Shifrah sniffed and looked away. “Listen, Kenan says we should go ashore alone to avoid running into the Don’ widow, and I think he’s right. I want to go into town quietly, not in the middle of a pitched battle. All right?”

  Aker shrugged. “As you wish. There is no need, but if it will make you feel better to sneak back into your own city, I will not stop you.”

  “Fine. Meet us by the rear launch as soon as the city is in view.”

  Shifrah spent the next hour trying to rest in the bunk with Kenan, but the bunk was too narrow for her to get comfortable and Kenan kept touching her, so eventually she suggested that they go up on deck to wait. They went outside and stood in the stern of the steamer beside the little wooden launch hanging over the side. The tiny lights of Alexandria twinkled in the darkness far off to their right.