Grigory's Gadget

by E. A. Hennessy

  “Oh.” Snezhana pouted. “That is a shame.” She strutted to the ship and climbed up to the saloon.

  Snezhana peered into the room and chuckled at the mess of tables and chairs. Then she spotted her brother lying on the floor. He was still leaning against the wall, his abdomen wrapped in a blood-soaked shirt.

  “Your moment has come at last,” he said. “You can finally kill me.” Snezhana climbed down to sit beside him.

  “Oh Eddie,” she said. “I could have killed you a thousand times.”

  Captain Sokoll laughed, wincing at the pain of his wound. “So, what, you just didn't want to do the deed yourself? Well, now it looks like you can sit back and watch as nature takes its course.”

  “No,” Snezhana said. “I don't think I will.”

  Captain Sokoll frowned. “So you are going to kill me?”

  Snezhana smiled. “Of course not. I'm going to bring you on to my ship, and have my doctor tend to your wounds.” Captain Sokoll furrowed his brow.

  “And why would you do that?” he asked.

  “Because I'll also ask him to make new ones,” Snezhana said, her tone cheery. “And then he'll tend to those, too. And then he'll make some more…”

  Captain Sokoll spat at his sister. “Where's the dignity in that?”

  “Oh, is it dignity you want?” Snezhana replied. “Do you want me to treat you with the respect you deserve?”

  “Yes,” Captain Sokoll growled. Snezhana pounced at him, her fingers wrapping around his throat.

  “I will treat you with the same level of respect you showed me,” Snezhana snarled, “when you framed me for murder and left me to rot in that frozen prison.”

  “Snezhana, I—” Captain Sokoll gasped.

  Snezhana slammed his head onto the floor, keeping her grip on his throat. “Do you know how they treat inmates in Lodninsk? No, I doubt you do. But I'll be happy to show you.”

  Snezhana stood then, calling for Adam and Igor to fetch Captain Sokoll and bring him to the Hell's Jewel.

  Zoya leaned against the deck of the Ocean's Legend, hugging her bag as Demyan wrapped an arm around her shoulders. The papers Snezhana had thrown into the water had smudged and smeared to the point that the words were nearly illegible. All Zoya could make out was a drawn image of the gadget, the blurred figure of a human, and the name G. Orlov scribbled in the corner.

  “Did you read any of it before you climbed out of the cabin?” Zoya asked Lilia. Lilia shook her head, her eyes cast to the ground.

  “I was so excited to find something,” she said, “I rushed right out.” Zoya nodded, staring at the name on the paper. G. Orlov? A long lost relative, maybe? But what does that mean? Someone alive or dead? How old is this gadget, anyway?

  Igor and Adam headed into the saloon to fetch Captain Sokoll. A moment later, Snezhana climbed out and leapt back down to the water.

  “Zoya,” she said flatly. “We're finished with the games. Where is the gadget?” Zoya glanced at her then at Demyan. Demyan shook his head.

  “Wrong answer,” Snezhana stated. “Gotfrid, grab her bag.” Gotfrid moved toward Zoya, who pulled out her sword.

  “I told you—” Gotfrid said.

  “You have a gun,” Zoya replied. “I don't care. You'll have to kill me if you want this gadget, and I get the sense that you don't want to do that.” Gotfrid smirked and put away his pistol. Then he unsheathed his sword.

  “Let's see if you can even fight.”

  Zoya readied her stance and watched Gotfrid. He lunged at her, and she parried easily, moving away from the ship.

  Snezhana unsheathed her own blade.

  “I said I am finished with these games.” She and Gotfrid both stalked Zoya, forcing her toward the edge of the sandbar. Pyotr had both his pistol and his sword out, ready to attack the others if they tried to help Zoya. Demyan rushed at him, knocking the pistol from his hand. Pyotr fell into the water, holding up his sword defensively. When Demyan didn’t continue attacking him, he clambered back to his feet.

  Gotfrid turned to confront Demyan as Snezhana continued driving Zoya deeper into the water. Zoya stumbled, falling into water up to her shoulders. Her bag floated next to her. Snezhana plunged her sword into the water between its straps and pulled the bag toward her. Zoya jumped at the bag, scraping her arm on the edge of Snezhana's blade. She pulled the gadget out then pulled herself back toward the sandbar, raising her sword. Blood dripped down her arm, falling into the water.

  “You're stubborn,” Snezhana said. “And you do have some skill with a blade. But this is not a fight you'll win.”

  “I disagree,” Zoya replied. Snezhana lunged forward, swinging her blade almost too fast for Zoya to see. Zoya felt the burn of the cut on her arm, making her grip on the sword weaker. Snezhana took advantage and knocked the sword out of Zoya's hand. She grabbed the gadget, but Zoya still refused to let it go. Zoya held the gadget with both hands, struggling against Snezhana's grasp. Then the gadget shifted, as if it were about to break. Snezhana let go and Zoya flew backwards into the shallow water.

  Zoya tried to let go of the gadget as well, but it clung to her right hand. As she stared, the gadget enveloped it, unfolding and revealing layer upon layer of metal, wires, and gears. It continued to unfold, moving up her arm.

  “What's happening?” Zoya asked, frantically climbing to her feet. Her hand and forearm were covered in what looked like armor, and still the gadget continued up her arm. The others backed away with horrified looks.

  Adrenaline pumped furiously through Zoya's veins. She clenched the fist that was armored by the gadget, feeling a surge of strength and energy. Then she looked up at Snezhana, raised her hand, and opened it. Out of her palm shot a bright light of sparks and flames. It sailed just past Snezhana's head, traveled another fifty feet, and then exploded.

  Snezhana pulled out her pistol, her eyes full of fear.

  “Stop whatever it is you're doing,” she demanded. “Right now.”

  “I don't know how,” Zoya shouted back. The gadget had progressed over her shoulder and began to armor her chest. Zoya grabbed at the gadget with her left hand, trying to pry it off. It wouldn't budge. Zoya fell into the water as the armor spread across her chest and around her neck. Pyotr sprinted toward her.

  “Pyotr, what are you doing?” Gotfrid shouted. The boy pulled out his pistol and held it by the barrel. He whacked Zoya in the back of the head. She passed out.

  Zoya groaned as she awoke, lying on the beach. She grabbed her right arm with her left. The gadget was gone.

  Zoya sat up and looked around. Her friends sat on the beach beside her, guarded by Gotfrid and Adam. Several members of Snezhana's crew were boarding the Hell's Jewel carrying boxes and crates. The crew members that were already on the ship were unfurling the sails.

  “Alexi has it,” Lilia said when she noticed Zoya was awake. “When you passed out, the gadget turned back into a ball. And then he took it.”

  “We took your weapons as well,” Gotfrid said. “Lest you get any ideas.”

  “Where's the captain?” Zoya asked her friends.

  “She's on her ship,” Adam replied. Zoya glared at him.

  “Not that captain,” she said.

  “She's the only captain there is,” Adam stated. “Oh, do you mean Edmund? What exactly is he captain of?”

  “He's sitting on the beach, over there,” Demyan said, ignoring Adam and pointing down the shore.

  “Alexi is there as well,” Anya added. Zoya peered up at Gotfrid and Adam.

  “Aren't you tired of being Snezhana's watchdogs?” she asked.

  “We do whatever our captain asks of us,” Gotfrid replied.

  Zoya smirked. “Of course you do.” She looked directly at Gotfrid. “Too bad that won't make her return your affection.”

  Gotfrid laughed and pulled out his gun, pointing it at Zoya.

  “Oh, touchy subject,” Zoya said.

  “Well I'll be damned.” Yeremiy leaned on a wooden crutch as he limped up the bea
ch. “You survived your swim?”

  “Your leg seems to be healing nicely,” Lilia said. Yeremiy had clean bandages around his knee.

  “Yes,” Yeremiy agreed, patting his wounded leg. “They're actually taking rather good care of me on that ship.” Yeremiy watched Gotfrid and Adam out of the corners of his eyes as he spoke.

  Alexi stood and approached the group, leaving his father behind. He had Zoya's bag slung around his shoulder.

  “My aunt needs your help,” he told Gotfrid.

  Gotfrid peered at Alexi and crossed his arms. “So go help her,” he replied.

  Alexi sighed. “She specifically requested you, both of you. She said she needs someone she trusts.” Gotfrid's face turned red.

  “I'll keep watch on this bunch,” Yeremiy told Gotfrid. “Go ahead.”

  “Wait, what?” Lilia asked, looking at Yeremiy with narrowed eyes.

  “As will I,” Alexi added, ignoring Lilia's confusion. Adam stepped toward him, uncomfortably close.

  “Relax, Adam,” Alexi told him. “My aunt and I have come to an understanding. I'm part of your crew now.”

  “We'll see about that,” Adam said. Gotfrid gave Adam a pat on the back then strode toward the Hell's Jewel. With a grunt, Adam followed.

  Nikolai clenched his fists. Zoya looked at him and touched his arm lightly.

  “That was easier than expected,” Anya said, standing up. Alexi tilted his head as he regarded her.

  “What are you talking about?” he asked.

  “Now we can escape,” Anya said. “Come on, you and Yeremiy don't actually intend to keep us prisoner, right?”

  “Actually,” Yeremiy replied. “I do. Do you have any idea what they'd do to me if I let you escape? My only way home is doing as I'm told.”

  “I thought you were trying to help us,” Lilia said. “You said you’d rather die than help pirates. What changed?”

  Yeremiy wrung his hands, glancing back toward the Hell’s Jewel, then at Alexi.

  “I’d rather not discuss it in mixed company.” His gaze stayed fix on Alexi, who shrugged and waved a hand.

  “Well like I said,” Alexi said. “My aunt and I have reached an understanding. I know you haven't had a good experience with her—”

  “A good experience?” Zoya said, standing. Her friends all stood behind her. “She's been horrible to us, and we've seen her treat other people even worse. I know you have issues with your father, and maybe your aunt is better than he is. But I don't want anything to do with either of them.”

  Alexi pulled out his pistol and aimed it at Zoya. Anya stepped forward, blocking his aim.

  “Anya, move,” Alexi told her.

  “You're not going to shoot me,” Anya said. “And you're not going to shoot Zoya. You're not going to shoot anyone, and you're going to let us go.”

  “I can't do that, Anya,” Alexi said. “I will shoot you if I have to.” Anya stepped forward until the pistol was touching her chest.

  “What happened to sticking together?” Yeremiy asked, inching forward. “You're the ones who told me that our best chance of surviving is to work together. Now, this ship is headed to Mirgorod, which is where you said you want to go. And whatever this gadget thing is, they have it.”

  “He has it,” Zoya corrected, looking at Alexi. She sighed, feeling defeated. “You make a good point. I can't just leave without that gadget, especially after seeing what it can do…”

  Nikolai rushed Alexi.

  “Give her the gadget,” he demanded. “I don't care what your motives are or who you're working for. But I can see that you care about Anya, and guess what, Anya cares about Zoya. And the rest of us. So give us the gadget and let us go, unless you really want to see Anya suffering. Which, I don't know, maybe you do. Maybe you're just that sick—”

  Alexi punched Nikolai in the face.

  “I don't have the gadget,” Alexi said quietly. “I sneaked it to Anya when no one was looking.” Anya nodded and patted a small bag slung around her shoulders. Nikolai glanced between them, holding his hand on his face.

  “Ok then,” he said. “Well, good.”

  Zoya peered down the beach.

  “No one is paying attention to us,” she told her friends. “We can run into the trees—”

  “Excuse me,” Yeremiy interrupted. “I haven't changed my mind. You said we'd work together. You deserted me once already, now you’re scheming to do so again. I promise you, if you stay with the Hell’s Jewel, we’ll all get what we want.”

  “How’s that?” Alexi asked, crossing his arms. “What are you up to?” Yeremiy’s face flushed bright red.

  “Come with us,” Lilia urged, ignoring Alexi. Her eyes lit up. “You're a navigator, right? We don’t need the pirates. Do you know where we are? Do you know where the nearest town is?”

  Yeremiy glanced around, sticking his hands into his pockets. He bobbed his head back and forth then nodded.

  “The storm had me all sorts of turned-around,” he admitted. “But, we're definitely somewhere in Chereplazh.”

  “Chereplazh?” Zoya said. “Really?”

  “Chereplazh is so densely populated,” Nikolai thought aloud, “if we go in any direction we're bound to run into a town before long.”

  “No! You're not running anywhere! More to the point, I can't run anywhere!” Yeremiy gestured to his wounded leg.

  “I'm sorry,” Demyan told him. “You can come with us or not, but we're done being prisoners, and we're going.” Demyan grabbed Zoya by the hand and sprinted into the woods.

  “We can't just leave him!” Lilia called to her friends, glancing at Yeremiy.

  “I'll make sure he gets home safe,” Alexi said. “I promise.”

  With a hesitant nod, Lilia ran after Demyan and Zoya. Nikolai stared at Alexi for a moment then turned and followed his friends.

  Anya glanced around, grabbed Alexi, and kissed him full on the lips.

  “Thank you,” she told him. Then she ran as well.

  “Stop!” Yeremiy shouted, trying to chase the group into the woods. “Please!” He stumbled on his crutch, hobbling as fast as he could manage.

  The forest was dense with foliage. As they ran, the friends climbed and leapt over tree roots and fallen branches, pushing heavy fronds out of their way. Behind them, they could hear the voices of the pirates giving chase. Then, the forest gave way to a cobblestone road. A few hundred feet away, the road was bordered by brick buildings.

  “Come on!” Zoya urged her friends, running toward the town. She and her friends ran between the buildings, turning off the main street and through side streets. They charged through a bazaar packed with people. Turning down another side street and then into an alley, the friends collapsed on the ground, gasping for breath. They listened for the pirates' shouts, but heard nothing other than the bustle of the town.

  “Now what?” Lilia asked, glancing around at her friends.

  “Let's find somewhere to lay low for a while,” Zoya suggested. After she and her friends finished catching their breath, they slowly headed out of the alley.

  The sun peeked through the clouds, its light reflecting on the large windows of the town's buildings. The town had a warm feel to it, its bricks all reds, oranges, and browns. Shop fronts lined the street, colorful awnings sheltering fresh meats, clothing, and pottery. As Zoya and her friends roamed the street, a tram whizzed by on steel tracks, carrying two dozen passengers.

  At the corner, the friends spotted a small shop labeled Agnessa's Creperie and Tea Shop.

  “What's a creperie?” Demyan asked as they walked toward the shop.

  “It's food,” Lilia replied, placing her hand on her stomach. “Delicious food, and with tea, too!”

  “Doesn't look like a place pirates would frequent,” Nikolai said.

  “Then in we go,” Zoya told her friends.

  As they entered, they were met with a blast of warm, sweet-smelling air. The scent of teas, fruits, and batter made the friends salivate.

 
“Only problem,” Zoya said, “is we don't have money.”

  “On the contrary,” Anya said, pulling a small satchel out of the one that held the gadget. “Alexi dropped this in the bag as well.” She jingled the satchel and smiled.

  “Seems like he's really on our side,” Lilia said.

  “I don't think he's on anyone's side,” Nikolai replied, “other than his own.”

  “I thought you were starting to like him,” Anya said.

  “That was before he tried to make me commit murder,” Nikolai said, folding his arms.

  “Well,” Zoya said, “all that matters is we have money, so we can eat!”

  A stout woman with tan skin and curly, bright-red hair worked the counter. The name Nessa was scribbled on a nametag pinned to her ruffled blouse. She smiled as the friends approached.

  “Welcome to Agnessa's,” she greeted. “What can I get for you?” Her voice was melodious and cheerful. Lilia stepped forward.

  “A cup of tea, please,” she said, “with sugar. And one creper.” Nessa chuckled softly.

  “You mean a crepe?” she asked. Lilia's face flushed.

  “Um, yes,” she said. “Sorry. I've only ever read about them; we don't have creperies where we're from.”

  “Well, you're in for a treat,” Nessa said. “What would you like on the crepe?” Lilia blushed again, glancing around the counter. Nessa gestured to a hand-written sign beside her.

  “We have all these fruits,” she said, pointing, “as well as chocolate sauce, peanut butter, honey, confectioner’s sugar. There are also meats and cheeses if you prefer.”

  Lilia's mouth hung open as she studied the list. “You have all of this? Here?”

  “Yes,” Nessa replied. “We get all of our fruits fresh from the bazaar every week.”

  “Fresh?” Lilia repeated. Her head was spinning. She placed her hands over her mouth and studied the list of choices some more.

  “Oh, strawberries, please,” she said after a moment. “And apples. And honey.” Nessa nodded and smiled, scribbling on a note pad.

  The others huddled by the list of toppings, studying it intently. Zoya ordered next, a crepe with strawberries, bananas, and peanut butter with a cup of tea.