Alien Devices: Tesla joins crew to prevent alien zombie apocalypse (The Secret War Book 2) (3 page)

BOOK: Alien Devices: Tesla joins crew to prevent alien zombie apocalypse (The Secret War Book 2)
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Teasing out the parchment, she unrolled it to find a painting
of sorts. It was done in the eastern style, with many divine looking figures
around a complex wheel. It was utterly meaningless to her. Her father had never
shown any interest in Eastern religions, or any religion for that matter. More
puzzled than ever, she studied it for some time.

When no enlightenment was forthcoming, she returned it and the
card to the cylinder. Looking around she decided to hide it under the bed. Not
the most original hiding place, but she felt better with it out of sight. That
it was important she had no doubt. She simply didn't know how yet how it was
important. She blinked in weariness even though it was not yet noon. 

She allowed as how she should be patient with herself. She had
traveled half-way around the world, been captured by pirates, only to be
rescued by the privateers of the Wind Dancer. She pictured the Captain, William
Hunting Owl, and the Arms Master, Saira Brighton. The memory caused her to
smile.

Even though the Wind Dancer had been after some mysterious
'package' when they had swooped down, boarding her kidnappers' sailing ship,
they had rescued Abigail. Saira and Captain Hunting Owl had explained to
Abigail that Royal Scholars like herself and her father would be much in demand
to certain unscrupulous persons. The thought of having their own personal Tesla
for a slave would be a powerful inducement, she was assured, no matter how
ridiculous the idea seemed to her. 

The memory of danger caused her to remember the weight of the
gun on her thigh. Hurriedly, she pulled up her skirts and began to take it off.
Her maid would be here any moment. It wouldn't do for her to see the Lady Scholar
with a pistol strapped to her leg.

She had no more than removed it when there was a knock at the
door. Gun still in hand, she hurriedly searched for a place to hide it, and
stuffed it under the pillows on the bed as the knock came again.

Abigail reached the door and opened it to see a lovely little
woman with golden hair peeking out from under her uniform cap. 

     “Lady Hadley?” she said in a low voice with a trace of
accent Abigail could not quite place. “You requested a personal maid?” The maid
gazed at her with deep blue eyes.

“Yes, please come in,” Abigail said with a smile. The maid was
adorable. She appeared like a little china doll.  At least she wouldn't have to
deal with some old doddering biddy, Abigail reflected. “What is your name,
dear.”

“Illiya, Lady Hadley,” she said timidly, in a small, quiet,
accented voice. She stood still in the room with her hands clasped in front of
her.

“Well, Illiya,” Abigail said. “I need help removing my corset.
I am afraid that the laces are quite beyond me by the feel of it. Then I will
need you to run a bath. Can we do that?”

“Of course, My Lady,” Illiya said. She followed Abigail into
the bedroom.

“I can get the dress itself, Illiya.” Abigail turned away from
her. She disliked others fussing over her, and would not have called for the
woman if she was certain that she could deal with the bloody corset by herself.

“Very good, My Lady. I shall start the bath then.” Abigail
heard the water splashing into the tub as she stepped out of her dress. She
reached behind her to find her worst fears confirmed. The laces were a snarl
that she could do nothing with by herself. She heard the maid come up behind
her.

“If I may, My Lady?” Illiya said and began to work at the
laces. Abigail raised her arms and felt surprisingly strong hands unravel the
mess behind her. After a few moments, Abigail felt the laces loosen and
immediately breathed more easily. A few more tugs and the corset came off. She
sighed in relief.  

“Are you just arrived in Hong Kong?” The maid asked behind her.

“Yes, I. . .” A sudden blow in the small of her back sent
Abigail sprawling forward on the bed in pain. Her legs suddenly refused to
work. The maid leapt on top of her, and she felt a sharp blade press into the
side of her neck. Abigail was startled at the sudden change of tone.

“Do not scream.” The voice was now as cold as winter.  “Where
is he?” Her other hand grabbed Abigail's hair and pulled her head back.

 “I don't know what you. . .” Abigail gasped. The blade pressed
in harder, and her head was jerked back farther.

“Do not play the fool with me,” Illiya hissed. “Turn over
quickly; no tricks.”

Keeping the blade pressed tightly against Abigail’s throat, Illiya's
weight shifted. She turned Abigail over by twisting her hair painfully until
she was forced to flop over like a landed fish. The small woman was incredibly
strong. 

Blinking back tears, Abigail locked glazed eyes at a cruel mask
of a face. The woman held up the knife so that Abigail could see the light
dance on the blade. Illiya stroked the point down Abigail's cheek, softly.

“You are quite beautiful, you know,” the other woman said with
a dark threat in her voice. “I could change that forever in a moment, and that
would only be the beginning.  Now, tell me where he is, and save us both such
trouble.” Illiya's smile would have done for a wolves’ leer. Abigail subtly
began to reach her hand for the gun under the pillows.

“I am sure I don't know what you are talking about,” Abigail
babbled. “You must have me confused with someone else.” The maid's mouth
tightened into a thin line. Abigail felt the point of the blade begin to pierce
her skin. At that moment, the front door chimed.

Illiya glared towards the door, irritated at the interruption.
Abigail grabbed her pistol and stabbed it into the maids' side. She thumbed the
switch to kill and pulled the trigger all in one desperate motion.

There was a muffled crack, and the smell of burning cloth.
Illiya jerked, dropping the knife as she fell off the side of the bed.  Abigail
awkwardly rolled over, feeling gradually beginning to return to her legs. To
her surprise, the maid started to rise up off the floor.

“You. . .” Illiya snarled at Abigail. Abigail shot her again,
the bolt causing the front of the maids' uniform to smoke as it hit. The small
woman tumbled backward, her heels drumming against the floor, and then she went
still.

The chime sounded again, followed by knocking. Abigail
haltingly raised herself off the bed, gun still in hand. She staggered up to
lean against the bedroom doorway. A rustle of cloth made her snap the gun
towards the sound. She saw the small maid crouching on the floor, her knife
once more in her hand. The knocking grew louder, and a voice could be heard
faintly calling Abigail's name.

The small woman's mouth issued an inhuman snarl. Faster than
Abigail could pull the trigger again, the tiny nightmare sprang from her
crouch, jumping backwards through the glass window behind her.     

Abigail stared after Illiya in blank amazement. She stumbled
over to the ruined window, gun at the ready.  The glass had fallen in a spray
on the pavement below, but there was no sign of a body. Abigail thought that it
must be a drop of at least twenty feet. Extraordinary. 

The surprising sound of knocking on the door rapidly became a
rather insistent pounding.

Walking with increasing steadiness as more feeling returned to
her legs, Abigail reached the front door. She cracked it open, gun ready but
out of sight. She caught Richard Preemus in mid knock.

“Forgive me, Lady Hadley,” he said in that deep voice, “but I
have been waiting for some time now. I do hope you are ready.” His eyes
narrowed on her cheek. “What is that? Are you alright? I thought I heard
noises.”

Abigail raised her free hand up to cover the cut left by the
knife. “I am fine, thank you. There was an accident with the window is all. My
personal maid has not yet arrived, I am afraid.”

“Windows can be treacherous things,” Preemus replied. “Are you
certain you are alright?”

“Quite!” Abigail replied. “I hate to impose on you, but would
you be so good as to inform the desk that I will need someone to see to the
window? I shall dress and join you presently. I am sorry to keep you waiting. Believe
me; I earnestly desire to hear what you have to say.” Preemus opened his mouth,
then closed it again.

“Alright,” he allowed, “I shall do as you ask.” Preemus held up
an admonishing finger. “But I warn you, if you are not downstairs in twenty
minutes, I shall be forced to enter your room, reputation or not. Are we clear,
Lady Abigail?”

“Exceedingly, Mr. Preemus,” Abigail said meekly. It was
important that this Crown official not enter her room while it still reeked of
ozone from the shooting. It could lead to too many questions that Abigail did
not know how to answer.

“I shall be expeditious,” she promised him.

“Very well,” Preemus relented. “I do not think it too much to
ask to share a civilized cup of tea.”

Abigail found that she had to restrain herself from raising the
gun hidden in her hand and shooting him in the head. It would be oh so
satisfying, and oh so wrong. She sighed and hurried to dress.

 

 

 

 

Chapter 3

An Fong's Audience Room, Hong Kong, China

 

W
ill nodded his thanks to the young serving woman
as she poured more tea into the delicate jade cup.
It was the third cup he
had been served. Three cups before talking business meant that An Fong was
treating him as an honored equal. Will thought that was hopeful. He just hoped
his bladder was up to the negotiating that was ahead.

There had been no more attacks on the frantic drive up to An
Fong's house. Fortress was a more accurate description for the place. A tall,
walled estate, with solid iron gates and guards, well-kitted braces of guards.
They were armed with either sparkies or shot rifles, and eager to use them from
the reception they'd received when their group rolled up to the gates.

Old Lee had traveled in the back of the steam car. His orders
had sent everyone scurrying about like ants. A still-living Georgios was
carefully carried inside to an infirmary that appeared better equipped than many
hospitals. A group of tunic-clad people had swarmed over him with serious
intent to save him.

When Will had been informed that the only thing they could do
now was wait to see if the big Greek pulled through, he stepped out of the room
with Saira, leaving Tiku with Giorgios. He hated dividing his forces in
potentially hostile territory, but if things did go south, Tiku could at least
provide Giorgios some protection.

A polite retainer had offered hospitality, with the promise of
clean clothes and rooms, but Will insisted on seeing An Fong immediately. First
though, he'd demanded to step out into the courtyard alone. Not being sure
exactly what the attack meant, he wanted to inform Rogers of what had happened via
the portable Aetherwave located on his arm bracer. Hunting Owl didn't want
anyone to know of the portable devices if he could avoid it. He believed in
playing his cards close to his chest when he could.  After being reassured that
the ship appeared to be in no danger, Will had allowed the prissy little man
who was their minder lead Saira and himself to An Fong's audience room, where
they now sat on silk cushions, sipping tea.

Will glanced around the chamber again while lifting the cup to
his lips. The room was larger than the cargo holds of the Wind Dancer, and was lined
with tall pillars that marched off into the shadows.   The main lighting came
from a skylight that shone down on a raised platform. The platform supported a
large throne-like chair which held An Fong. You could hide a small army in the
shadows at the edges of the room, Hunting Owl thought to himself in approval.
It was a safe bet that there were weapons trained on them.

He barely wet his lips, as he looked up at An Fong. The man on
the throne was clad in a brilliant green robe, carrying his years with a quiet
dignity that Will associated with some of the council elders of his youth.
Hardly what Will would have thought of when he imagined a crime overlord. So
far their conversation had been bland small talk about Hong Kong and the wider
world. The only real surprise was silently sitting to An Fong's right in the
form of Guang, the bodyguard. He was now wearing a black silk robe, long sword
case at his feet. He was sipping his own tea quietly, watching Will and the old
man talk. Will wasn't sure yet how he fit, but he was more than just muscle.

It was time to dance, Will thought. They had never gotten a
chance to get this deep into an organization like the Fong's. No matter what
the Black Ships were up to, they needed somewhere to fence their booty, refuel,
get information on new targets. They couldn't be that independent.  If anyone
would know anything, it would be the man sitting across from him, and Will had
what that man needed. He placed a hand on the cylinder. An Fong noticed the
gesture and spoke.

“We appreciate the efforts that you have taken on behalf of our
mutual friend and ourselves, Captain Hunting Owl.” The old man had a
surprisingly strong voice for one of his apparent years. Will nodded
acknowledgment of the crime lord’s words.

“Did not the Sage write that to aid one's friends is to court
Heavens bounty?” Will answered.  Fong grunted, and picked up his tea.

“I see that you are not merely a man of action William Hunting
Owl, but of learning as well.” He sipped. “The bounty of Heaven indeed may not
be counted.”

“Perhaps so,” Will agreed. “But as men we must seek to reach
understanding of its bounty, however limited that understanding may be. But
before we speak of such matters, forgive me if I am too forward.” Will leaned
towards the throne determinedly. “Do you know why we were attacked?” The
ancient man smiled like a skull.

“Would it surprise you to learn that I do not know, William
Hunting Owl? That such men should dare to reach so is not the order of things.
This disturbs me. It also disturbs me that they would know of your coming.”

“I can promise you that whoever these men are, they did not
learn things from me or mine.” Will said levelly. An Fong grunted again at
this.

“I would presume no less,” Fong replied.  “The reputation of
Hunting Owl and the Wind Dancer for honest dealing is well known to us, even
while we disagree on some of those dealings. No, I fear that this is a matter
closer to us.”

“Who rules in China today William Hunting Owl?” An Fong asked
suddenly. He continued on before Will could answer.  “I will tell you,” the old
crook rasped. “No one does.”

“We were once a great people. We built great things, we made
great songs. We ruled this land for two thousand years. Then in my father's day
the Europeans came, and we were shamed. They killed our young men with their guns
and the poppy they brought. Our women were sold to their brothels, and our
children were sold to their factories. The Emperor and that bitch who followed
him, became their dogs, and barked for their pleasure. The Court Officials grew
fat, along with the white devils, on the death of our people.” Guang stirred
for the first time in his seat, but remained silent. Fong sipped at his tea
again.

“Then the Demons came from the sky. They burned the Empress in
the great city and the Court with her. They burned the poppy fields and choked
the life from all foreigner and Chin alike, with their black smoke.” He nodded,
eyes looking on something not in the room.  “They did to the Europeans what the
Europeans had done to us. They did to us worse than the Europeans had done to
us.” An Fong turned his gaze upon Will.

“Now the British sit in this city and pretend to be lords of
our lands. It is not so. Outside here, bandits and thugs use the science given
us by the British Queen to squeeze a pitiful life from the survivors of the
War.” An Fong shrugged as if throwing off a blanket.

“But such matters are of no interest to a Redman such as
yourself I am sure,” An Fong observed. He set down his cup. “Let us speak on
how men may understand the bounty of Heaven. Do you know what it is you carry?”

“I do,” said Will. “I believe that it is for you. Is that
right?” Fong cackled at the question.

“You are impertinent,” he said with approval. “This will carry
you far unless you speak so to the wrong person, William Hunting Owl!” An Fong
smiled repressively. “Suffice that it is for someone dear to me. If you know
what it is, then you know that time is important.” His face became stern. “What
is your price for it?” Will nodded at the question; clearly it was time to talk
bluntly.

“I want information,” the Captain said starkly. “There are sky
raiders who manage to keep out of the light. One might even say that their
ships are black. You know everything that moves in the underworld from Rangoon
to Seattle. I want to know anything that you know about them. That is my only
price.”

There was a long silence at this. Will noticed Saira tensing as
the silence grew longer. Will's hand moved casually near his gun. The next
words the old man spoke would probably say if Saira and he lived or died.

“Before I decide if I will pay your price,” An said humbly, “I
would ask a question of my own. What would you do with this information?”

“I would use it to hunt them down, kill them all, and anyone
who deals with them.” Will replied without hesitation. The old crime lord
nodded at his answer. If in approval or not, Will could not say. 

“I will not pay your price, William Hunting Owl,” he
pronounced. Will readied himself to make a move. An Fong had to know that Will
would either destroy the cylinder or kill him. What he hoped the old pirate
hadn't figured on was Will and Saira taking him hostage. Well, or most likely
die trying, Will thought bleakly.

“The price you state is too small for so valuable a thing to
me,” An Fong continued. “It would be dishonorable to be so miserly. We know
little of this evil you hunt. We know it is real, our own endeavors have felt
their depredations. We have sought to show them the error of their ways without
success. Should you succeed in your hunt, the House of An would reward you for
it.”

“But certainly they have to land, re-supply, sell what they
have taken somewhere you have knowledge of,” Hunting Owl protested. An Fong
kept shaking his head as Will was speaking.

“Not where we have found, nor with any business we know,” the
crime lord replied. “They may as well be ghosts in truth. We have searched for
them, believe this.” The old man frowned for the first time as if in thought.

“There may be one,” he said slowly, “who deals with them here
in this ancient city. Her name is Chang. She appeared here six years ago. Where
her wealth comes from none may say. She provides all manner of things that do
not come from us, or any other House that we know. She may be whom you seek.”

“Given what you say,” Will asked cautiously, “how is it that
you have not already confronted her?” An Fong grunted again.

“Soon after her appearance here, the House of Choy attempted to
do so,” An Fong explained. “The Choy were all made mysteriously dead. Since
then, she has insinuated herself not only with the other Houses, but with the
British as well. It would not be wise for the House of An to confront her.”

Will looked at Saira out of the corner of his eye and caught
her secret hand signal that An Fong was telling the truth. He sighed, and held
up the cylinder.

“I thank you for what aid you are able to provide,” Will said.
The same young woman who had poured the tea appeared from the shadows to take
the cylinder from him.

“We are reluctant to set you on this path William Hunting Owl,”
An Fong said gravely. “All who have sought the Jade Woman, as Chang is known
here, have disappeared never to be seen again.”

“Still,” Will observed shrewdly, “you believe she is whom I
seek. You just do not want to be the one who confronts her.”

“We sense that there is a greater power behind her,” An Fong
replied soberly, “A power that is hidden from us. It is not another
organization that we know of, or one of the nation states. We would know if
this was so, I assure you.” He smiled coldly, and Will was reminded once again
of a skull. “Their secrets are not as secure as they would believe.”

“We sense the same behind these black raiders that you seek,
William Hunting Owl, a hidden power unknown to us. Whether they are the same
power as Chang or not,” An Fong raised his shoulders, “that we do not know.”

“Then when I find out, I'll let you know,” Will said simply.

“These are grave and delicate matters for every one of us.”  An
Fong nodded as if he expected Wills' reply. He gestured with a hand and the
bodyguard Guang leapt to his feet. “Guang will accompany you as you seek out
the Jade Woman.”

Will knew that An Fong's words were not a request.

 

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