The Ghost Rebellion

by Pip Ballantine, Tee Morris

  “Not if I can’t control it,” Wellington stated.

  “But you can,” Eliza said, placing her hand on his arm.

  He looked at her. So beautiful. So trusting. “How can you be so certain, Eliza?”

  “Listen to yourself right now, Welly. There is a control there.” She touched his cheek. “Jekyll does not have a hold on you. Neither does your father. You cut those ties many years ago.”

  He placed his hand over hers. “And you said I was the one good to you. You are rather special to me, as well.”

  “Shall I leave you two alone?” Sophia asked with a tilt of her head.

  Eliza kept her gaze with his. “Think of all the times I’ve gotten the better of that disciplined exterior of yours.”

  He blushed. “Well, yes, you have me there.”

  “I know how strong you are, even if you do not.”

  “I believe,” Sophia groaned, “I am going to be ill.”

  The two women stared at each other, but so far no one was throwing knives. Maybe, Wellington thought, they were starting to actually like each other.

  Maulik, flanked by Lieutenant O’Neil, rolled into the Strategy Room, thankfully breaking the tension. “Good morning, all. Rested and ready for an exciting day, I hope?”

  “So, what is the plan, Director?” Eliza asked, turning her back on Sophia. “Are we planning to stop somewhere in Jaipur City, or are we coming at the Water Palace from a different angle?”

  “You didn’t read the case file provided in your cabin?” Maulik asked.

  “I…” Eliza gently bit her bottom lip. “I lost track of time, what with all the excitement in leaving Bombay.”

  “Two days and two nights,” Sophia stated with a sly grin, “on a train, and you didn’t find a moment?”

  “She does have a point,” Wellington agreed…

  …and immediately regretted it. Eliza shot him a look that could have been classed as a lethal weapon.

  “I didn’t see you reminding me about any case file last night when we were naked and wrapped in one another’s loving embrace,” she snapped at him.

  “Eliza…” Wellington whispered through clenched teeth.

  “Oh Wellington, please, don’t act so shocked. Eliza Braun and I are powerful women and we have voracious appetites in all things.” She went to take a sip of her coffee, and paused. “I know of at least three of your Ministry agents, director, who are more than relaxed and ready for this mission.”

  “Yes, well, that is far more than I need to know about what is happening on my train,” Maulik said, clearing his throat. “Anyone else have anything to share?” He looked over his shoulder. “O’Neil?”

  “I’m trying to stay focused on the mission,” he replied. O’Neil’s grip tightened on his pith helmet. “I’m wondering if I’m going about this the right way.”

  “Eliza,” Maulik began, “to answer your question—our plan for today faces it first challenge in Jal Mahal’s location. There is a reason it is called the Water Palace.”

  “It is completely surrounded by Man Sagar Lake,” Wellington said, “so, Director, how are we going to get to the Water Palace undetected if the Ghost Rebellion may be there already?”

  “The solution is all about you,” Maulik said, motioning around him.

  “This train? We are going to catch the Ghost Rebellion off-guard with a train?”

  “That we are, my friend.” He wheeled to one side to face O’Neil. “Make yourselves ready.” The lieutenant placed his helmet back on his head and exited in the direction of the passenger cars. Moments later, O’Neil reappeared, followed by Ministry agents and British infantry. They filed through the Strategy Room, and proceeded towards the engine.

  Once the last man disappeared, Maulik went to the map of India. He flipped a few switches, making the map’s tiles spin and flip, the image of India shimmering out of focus. The rotating tiles now slid up and out of view, replaced by other tiles forming a new map of the city of Jaipur, Man Sagar Lake, and Jal Mahal. Outside the city, a series of lines connected and branched off to points beyond the map.

  “We are here,” Maulik began, placing a small two-part woodcut of their train onto one of the railroad lines heading to Jaipur. A few moments later, it began inching closer to the city. “As you said, Wellington, avoiding detection is the trick.”

  “This train,” Sophia said, looking around her as if studying the Strategy Car’s integrity. “Does it have æthergate abilities?”

  Maulik let out a sharp laugh. “I would never endanger my agents with any of the adverse effects of æthergate travel. I have something better in mind.” He pointed to a small junction the train magnet was approaching, then pressed two red buttons in his chair’s armrests. “I recommend you secure that tea trolley and hold on to something. We’re about to detach.”

  Sophia pushed the trolley out of the carriage and returned quickly, an excited grin on her lips. Wellington had just fixed his grip onto the periscope’s housing when the train lurched. The magnet depicting their train split, the engine proceeding around the city perimeter while the second half—the passenger cars—continued to Jaipur.

  “The passenger cars will be picked up by Ministry operatives,” Maulik assured them. “Right now, our team await deployment in the next car up.”

  “Deployment?” Sophia asked, and even she looked impressed.

  “Since we are now considerably lighter, we should be in position in roughly half an hour.” He motioned to the seats fastened against the wall. “More than enough time for you lot to secure yourselves.”

  As the three of them slipped into these chairs and accompanying harnesses, Maulik retracted the metal blinds covering the windows. Sunlight suddenly filled their car, blinding them for a moment. On the map, their train continued at a quick pace around the city.

  “Wellington, do you feel that?” Eliza said. “We’re on an incline.”

  He nodded, though he didn’t have any time to reply, for moments later a low droning sound reached his ears, and the pitch grew the higher they continued upward. Maulik threw a switch on his armrest, and the door leading to the engine hissed shut. The whine was not as piercing anymore, but still present.

  They were also slowing down.

  Maulik looked over to the map as he locked his chair in a small nook next to theirs. “Right then, any moment now...”

  The incline levelled out and then turned quickly into a decline. With that change came a sudden increase in their speed. A hard, sharp eruption roared from the engine, shoving them forward. The train shook and shuddered madly all around them, as if it would tear itself apart, but they were still continuing downward, although the present momentum felt different than before.

  Then the sunlight disappeared.

  Sand, soil, mud, and crushed rock smeared along the window. The odd pen or ashtray that thudded against the carpet now trembled its way across the room seemingly of its own accord as they rumbled their way downward into India.

  “You mentioned back in Bombay about the engine length being absurdly long. Longer than a hypersteam, but no, this train is no hypersteam,” Maulik said. “If it were, we would not have room for the drill bit.”

  “We are drilling our way to the Water Palace?” Sophia asked over the rumble of their excavation.

  “Thrilling, isn’t it?” Maulik let out a delighted laugh, but it stopped abruptly. “Granted we have never attempted a dig quite this far...”

  Eliza glanced over at Wellington, and he patted her hand. Though she really didn’t look worried.

  “Hold on,” Wellington said. “A drill bit certainly isn’t enough to keep us moving forward.”

  “Always the tinker, eh, Books?” Maulik motioned to the front of the train. “The drill bit applies the principles of a hypersteam engine. We capture, recycle, and condense steam from the engine, and send it through the drill bit. The soil is softened, the bit catches, and we achieve forward momentum. To add to that, our wheels are now at a ninety-degree angle and a
ssist in digging. When I commissioned this train, I had high hopes.” Maulik sounded pleased as punch. “R&D actually surpassed them!”

  He’d become quite different in India, Wellington observed. Or perhaps he’s always been like this?

  “I would advise you all to stay secured,” he warned. “As we are dealing with geology, Mother Earth can sometimes throw rather nasty surprises when subterranean.”

  On the map, their train approached the banks of the Man Sagar Lake. Wellington gripped the armrests, and now it was Eliza who reached over and brushed the side of his face.

  “No need to fret, Wellington. The lake is man-made, not terribly deep—only fifteen feet at the most. We have dug three times that depth. That should prevent cave-ins.” Maulik shrugged. “According to the math.”

  Wellington swallowed and hoped the director’s math had been sound before leaving Bombay.

  The train slowly progressed under Man Sagar Lake, until a yellow light set in the side of the map suddenly flared to life. “That’s the engine.” Maulik gripped the arms of his chair. “We’re about to slip underneath the foundation. Hold on to something.”

  Wellington watched loose items dance over the floor again toward the far side of their car. They were definitely ascending, the angle growing steeper with their increasing speed.

  “We’re ready to breach,” Maulik called over the growing rumble around them. “The booster rocket should engage any moment now.”

  The yellow light in the map switched to red, and they all lurched as a deafening roar came from the rear of their car. Wellington feared the Strategy Room would be torn apart, but the thrust lasted only a matter of seconds. A dull explosion ran through the whole structure before the carriage righted itself and became level with a sharp thud.

  “Well, that was exhilarating, wasn’t it?” Maulik said, releasing himself from the nook. “Shall we go?”

  Wellington unbuckled himself from the seat and offered Eliza a hand. Once she came to her feet, he did the same for Sophia.

  “Always the gentleman,” Sophia purred as she stepped closer to him.

  Eliza glared at the assassin.

  “Ladies, please,” Wellington said, before violence broke out. He then looked up in the direction of where the troops had gone. “No gunfire. A good sign, yes?”

  “Could be the calm before the storm,” Eliza replied, drawing her pounamu pistols.

  “Or merely a tempest in a teacup,” Sophia said.

  Maulik waved a finger at the ladies, and surprisingly they subsided before punches were thrown.

  Relieved, Wellington led the way into the empty training carriage. It had its walls down on the ground, acting as ramps that bridged the damaged landscape underneath. He proceeded down the platform, out of the car, and into the courtyard of Jal Mahal palace. They had missed the centre by a few hundred feet, emerging from one of the four grassy quadrants that surrounded a central octagon. Each corner of the Water Palace was decorated with domed pavilions, chhatri in Indian architecture.

  “Charming spot, Jal Mahal,” Maulik said, trundling up alongside Wellington, “for gatherings or ambushes.”

  “No one here, Agent Books,” came O’Neil, appearing from behind one of the Palace’s stone pillars. “Nothing out of the ordinary. I’ll have my men take position.”

  “Something’s not right,” Wellington muttered.

  Eliza looked up to him. “What are you seeing that I am not, love?”

  “Nothing, and that is what scares me.” He looked around the entirety of the Water Palace. “Vania had a good four-hour head start. Even with delays from the Railway Company, I am sceptical.”

  “You don’t believe that maybe we’ve just hit on a stroke of good luck?” Eliza asked. “We actually beat Vania here…”

  Wellington gave her a crooked smile. “Darling, if you really believed in good luck, you would have holstered your sidearms by now.”

  Eliza looked down at her weapons, then to Wellington. “I do hate it when you’re right.”

  “We have the ElectriFlux that Agent Strickland designed,” Maulik said, approaching from across the courtyard. “If the Ghost Rebellion appears, it should give us a few moment’s notice.”

  “Director!” a voice called from behind them in the courtyard.

  “Yes, Agent Gadhavi,” Maulik said, “what have you got for me?”

  “We just connected the leads to Strickland’s device,” the young man said, “when everything in its display lit up.”

  “Have you had time to calibrate it?”

  “Sir, I would not know where to begin calibrating this thing. I just wanted to get it to work.”

  “No, this is all too easy,” Wellington said. “Sophia, what were Nahush’s orders to Vania?”

  “She was sent ahead to place the targeting system for the electroporter.”

  He shook his head. “What were his exact words?”

  She furrowed her brow, and twisted her mouth. “He needed her to travel to Jal Mahal and prepare it for their arrival.”

  Wellington looked around again, the growing dread in him now turning into a full-fledged panic. “Damn.”

  “What is it, Books?” Maulik asked.

  “Vania didn’t come to the Water Palace to set a targeting device,” he said, catching the faint scent of copper in the air. “She came here to make the Water Place itself a targeting device.”

  Eliza saw what he was getting at immediately. “Call back your men!”

  Maulik pressed a yellow button in the left arm of his chair, and a high-pitched whistle sounded twice. From surrounding alcoves came the scuffing of boots against stone.

  “Director,” Gadhavi began, “what about you?”

  “Do not leave his side,” Wellington insisted.

  No sooner were the words out of his mouth than a crackle of white energy joined the corner pavilions and the main chhatri, creating an arc of light that circled the perimeter. The bolt of electricity froze there for several seconds before a sudden breeze swept through the courtyard. The branches of energy and light began to multiply, creating a blinding chain around the battlements of the Water Palace. Faster and faster the tendrils wound around them until light swept through the corridors encircling the courtyard. With a deafening thunderclap, the glare exploded, tossing the handful of men and women sprinting into the courtyard forward. They were the Ministry agents and cavalry that had heard the Director’s call.

  Wellington could see O’Neil helping those around him up to their feet. “Make for the train!” he cried out.

  When the blast finally dissipated, he quickly took stock of their numbers. Combined, they now only numbered twenty-six. The electroporter was a two-way device, and the rebels had used that to their advantage, ripping away over half of their enemies in one strike.

  In fleeting moments, Wellington saw they had gone from possessing the upper-hand in numbers, munitions, and tactical advantage, to taking a final stand in the centre of a killing box.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Wherein an Audience Is Held

  Around them echoed the footsteps of what they knew to be the Ghost Rebellion. Wellington could not be certain if this was Nahush’s phantom army in their entirety, but it was a good number of fighters, to be sure. With their limited ranks now huddled by the mole train, it would not be a final stand so much as a massacre. Their massacre.

  They were well within sights of rifles. They had to be. So far, no one was daring to shoot.

  “We can try to get back inside the train,” Eliza offered up, her eyes tight on him. “Hold out from there.”

  “To what end? Provided we can get inside before being picked off like targets in a shooting gallery, any stand we make is our last.”

  “What about following the tunnel we made to get here?” Sophia asked, her grip tightening on her own pistol.

  “Yes, a clever thought,” Maulik said, “but there is the matter of that forty to fifty feet of distance between us and where the tunnel levels out.”
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br />   Ranks of soldiers lined up, three deep and ten in length, at the far end of the courtyard. Moments later, Nahush Kari emerged from the perimeter. His tall, broad figure was hard to miss, but from where Wellington remained sheltered, the rebel’s expression was impossible to read. Even harder to read was Vania Pujari, accompanying her true commander as they walked along the ranks.

  It shouldn’t have been a shock, but for a moment Wellington could have sworn it was Ihita. He could only imagine what Eliza might be thinking.

  Sophia’s eyes narrowed on the open corridors immediately across from their train. “We could make for that junction. It’s close and there are not as many soldiers.”

  “No need to flank us” Eliza added. “They have at least four guns to our one.”

  “More importantly,” Wellington said, “why haven’t they opened fire, be done with us?”

  “Wellington Thornhill Books,” Nahush called out, his voice echoing across the courtyard. “I seek an audience.”

  All eyes slowly turned to Wellington.

  He patted his left breast pocket. Excellent, he still had a few announcement cards there.

  “Pull your men back from here,” Wellington began, “and I will gla—”

  A gunshot thundered in the courtyard, and a soldier next to O’Neil crumpled.

  Maulik quickly hissed, “Do not return fire! Hold, everyone! Hold!”

  “Mister Books,” Nahush stated, “you are in no position to dictate terms, and I do not like to be kept waiting.”

  Wellington nodded to Eliza. She pointed her own pistol to the corridor across from them, and fired. A rebel slumped over the low stone wall.

  “And you, sir, have chosen the oddest time and place to demand a social call,” Wellington said. “I suggest you indulge me.”

  Eliza pulled back the hammer of her pistols during the silence. As much as Wellington loved chess, he did so hate stalemates.

  Nahush finally spoke up, and Wellington took in a breath. “Quid pro quo it is then.”