Alien Devices: Tesla joins crew to prevent alien zombie apocalypse (The Secret War Book 2) (6 page)

The woman did not appear at all as Abigail had pictured a woman
crime-lord would look. She was wearing a jacket and pants similar to the style
Abigail had seen common people wear, only hers were of a shining blue silk. Her
face was just beginning to show the creases of age in a few lines around her
eyes, mouth and throat. There were glints of grey in the hair pulled back in an
elaborate twist. She looked, well, motherly to Abigail's mind.  

“You should make no sudden moves,” the woman said in
accent-less English. “There are weapons are aimed at your hearts as I speak.”
She smiled at Abigail. “Would you remove your mask? Very slowly please.”
Stiffly Abigail did so, letting it dangle from her left hand. The woman in the
chair nodded as if pleased. 

“You have much of your father about you,” she said with a nod
towards Abigail. “I am Chang.”  The woman glanced at Will and Saira, her eyes
narrowing as they fell on the Arms master. “You are safe now, Abigail. These
two will be dead before they can draw breath, I promise.” 

Chapter 7

S
aira searched the room with her eyes while
remaining still.
From what the woman had said there were likely shooters
hiding behind the tapestries; very difficult to counter. While the woman talked
to Abigail, Saira gathered her energies waiting for the Captain’s signal. When
the woman's eyes met hers, Saira felt a shock as if a strong force had brushed
against her spirit. This woman was a spirit-worker of some kind!

“You are safe now, Abigail,” the woman was saying, while still
staring at Saira with narrowed eyes. “These two will be dead before they can
draw breath.” Abigail, bless her stupid, mud feet heart, moved between Saira
and the woman, blocking Saira's line of attack.

“What?” Abigail exclaimed. “No, you mustn't! These are my
companions!” Abigail drew herself up straight, putting on what Saira thought of
as her best British hauteur. “Who are you? How dare you threaten us? What have
you done with my father?” The woman's face remained both impassive and
unimpressed by her questions.

“I have done nothing with him,” she replied. “Have you not
talked with your father? How then did you come by the card?”

“He left it for me,” Abigail snapped. “I ask you again, what do
you know of my father? Are you this 'Madame Chang' everyone keeps talking
about? What is your relationship with him?”

Saira had to admire Abigail's courage. She wasn't sure that
interrogating a crime boss who claimed to have guns targeted to kill you was
the wisest thing to do, but the woman's slight pause before speaking said
clearly that Abigail’s response had thrown the other woman off her stride.

“I am called Madame Chang, yes.” The woman said. “I am your
father's friend. I have not heard from him since he said that he had sent for
you. I was becoming concerned. When Torkul,” she gestured at the giant, “informed
me that you had entered with these two, I assumed that he and you were in
trouble, as we had feared might happen.” Chang pointed at Will and Saira. “Who
are they then?” she asked suspiciously. Captain Will cleared his throat,
without moving.

“Mind if I speak for myself here?” Hunting Owl asked.  “Also,
if we could know that we won't get shot, or whatever, for sneezing that would
be a kindness.” Chang impatiently made an elaborate hand signal at this, then
waited. 

“Yes,” she said finally, “you may move, but do so carefully.”
He did so, cautiously pulling off his mask. He nodded at Saira to do the same.
Breathing out, he moved his neck as if working out a kink.

“Much obliged,” Will nodded. “I am Captain William Hunting Owl
of the airship Wind Dancer. This is my Arms master, Saira Brighton. As Abigail
said, we are her friends. We promised to help her find her father.” He spread
his hands wide, grinning at Chang.

“Oh, and so as there's no misunderstandings,” he continued in a
mild voice. “If I don't get word to my ship by a certain time, they will cast
off, fly over this mighty nice establishment, and burn it to the ground.” He
crossed his arms and looked at Chang with the pleasant expression of someone
who had just announced he'd arranged for flowers to be delivered. Abigail
gasped, shooting a startled look at the Captain. Saira kept her face impassive.
She knew that Will had left no such order. This was something she had seen him
do before. The enemy now had to consider that they faced not just a couple of
air devils, but also an armed airship full of them. This 'Madame Chang' could
not afford to think that Will might be bluffing.  Chang stared at Cap'n Will
for a long moment, and then she smiled back at him.

“You have a good friend here, Abigail,” she said to the
Scholar. Chang looked at Saira, and Saira felt the pressure against her spirit.
She decided she'd had enough, and pushed back at her. It was as if her spirit
touched a solid wall, a featureless blank wall. Saira did not recognize the
'feel' of the magic she faced, but it was certain that the older woman was no
simple crime lord.  The woman's mouth tightened into a straight line at Saira's
response.

“Do you know what you have here Captain?” Chang asked, pointing
her finger at Saira.

“A member of my crew,” Cap'n Will answered coolly with his arms
still crossed. He knew enough of the Ghost Way that he could tell that the two women
had been doing something spook-Like.  He didn't need Saira to tell him that the
woman he faced was more than she seemed, so he spoke with care. “What I don't
know is much about you. You claim to be a friend of Lord Hadley's, but his
daughter has never heard of you. I hope you'll understand that we need more
than just your word for that.” Chang didn't answer Will, but looked at Abigail
instead.

“Your father always said that Prometheus was for Violet,” Chang
said to her softly. 

Abigail gasped, placing a hand over her mouth. She started
shaking her head in negation while staring at the woman.

“Abigail what is it?” Saira asked, extending her senses to read
her friend, and readying to call on the Goddess. That this Chang was an Adept
of some sort whose defenses Saira could not penetrate, that she could
understand. She had met such before. What Saira could do instead was sense if
Chang was attacking Abigail's spirit. Saira relaxed slightly, sensing Abigail's
dismay and surprise, but no taint of another spirit about her aura.

“He did tell you!” Abigail cried at Chang in dismay. “Why?”

“I was helping your father with his mission,” Chang replied
gently. “I was intrigued by the possibility that he was correct, and lent my
resources to aid him in his search.” She spread her hands. “When he told me
that he had actually found it, I believe he began to realize some of the dangers
of such a discovery. I offered to aid him in his excavation, but he became
distant and refused to even tell me its location. I urged him to be careful,
but if you have not seen him since arriving, I fear he may have come to the
attention of those who will stop at nothing.”

Will gave Saira a sideways look that asked if Chang was telling
the truth. Saira had to signal that she did not know. He raised an eyebrow at
her in surprise.  Saira had no idea who, or even what, Chang was. It was like
trying to read through a mist that kept obscuring what was behind it. Chang
felt to Saira as human, rather than God or Demon possessed, but she couldn't be
sure. The only thing that Saira did know was that Chang was powerful, and
likely very dangerous.

“So Abigail,” Will asked her. “Who is 'Violet'?

“Prometheus,” Abigail repeated dully. She swallowed hard,
regaining her composure. She was still staring at Chang. “Violet was my
mother's name. Only Lord Hadley and I would know either of those words.” The
sense of betrayal was unexpectedly hard for Abigail. They were interrupted by a
man entering the room through the same door they had come.

Chang spoke to the man sharply in a language that Saira had
never heard before. The man bowed rapidly, speaking the same tongue. Chang
frowned.

“It seems that a known member of one of the rival Houses has
been caught hovering near this building,” she announced. “None of you would
know anything of this, I presume.” Capitan Will shrugged at the question.

“Don't your rivals watch you?” He asked in response. “I'm sure
you watch them. Sounds like your usual dealings.”  Will tried to catch
Abigail's eye to remain silent.  Chang was watching their reactions closely.

“Perhaps,” Chang said slowly. “This is a very high ranking
member of the An family, however, which is not 'usual dealings' as you say. I
am having him brought here.” She gave them all a small bow. “You must forgive
me. While our business is critical, I must attend to this at once.”

The door opened again, and Saira saw Guang being escorted by
two evening suited bully boys with revolvers. A third one brought up the rear,
carrying his sword case. He looked more like a king than a captured spy,
walking straight and proud. He walked right up to Chang, stopping a mere foot
away. He paused to straighten his suit coat before speaking.

“What is the meaning of this?” He asked mildly. “You surely
know who I am. Therefore, you must appreciate the consequences of your
actions.  You risk the displeasure of the House of An.”  The third man brought
the case before Chang, kneeling before her. “That is not for you,” Guang
snapped at her. Chang sighed at his words.

“I grow very weary of people telling me what I may or may not
do in my own home,” she observed. She gestured at him, and the kneeling man
opened the case. She gazed into it for a moment, and then looked Guang.

“A very fine sword,” she said. “I am not certain what brings a
member of the An family to be sulking outside my establishment on this of all
evenings.” She looked at his calculatingly, “However, I fear that your presence
may disturb my guests. I will deal with the House of An as I must.” She
gestured at the guards, “Take him outside and kill him,” she ordered casually.

“Wait!” Abigail cried. “You can't do that!”

“Indeed,” Chang purred at her. “Is this another one of your
friends, Abigail?”

Saira's heart sank as Abigail admitted he was. Now Chang had
four of them for hostages. Will tugged his ear giving Saira their signal to
prepare to fight. She signaled back that she would take Chang. He brushed his
chin, the signal that he agreed. Oblivious to this by-play, Guang turned and
bowed deeply to Abigail.

“Forgive me Lady Hadley,” he said to the Scholar. “I had hoped
to reach you before you entered this place.”

“It's alright Guang,” Abigail reassured him. “It appears that
we needed to come here anyway. It seems that Madame Chang knew my father.”

“Ah, that is interesting,” Guang nodded. “Then perhaps it is
also of interest that I have found him. He is alive, but may not remain so if
we do not act quickly.”  

Chapter 8

W
ill looked around the crowded cabin of the
steam car, and caught Saira's eye.
Saira nodded back. It was time for a
little verbal confrontation, Will figured. By habit of long practice, they had
each taken a door-side seat diagonally across from each other. That way the two
controlled both exits and could attack the other occupants without getting in
each other's way should it come to that. Guang was up front with Sebastian,
guiding them to where they needed to go next.

Sitting next to him was Abigail. Abigail hadn't said much since
the last attack. He could feel her tension though from where their arms
touched. He had to admire how she was holding up. It had been a long day for
her. Hell, it had been a long day for everyone. 

Next to Abigail sat Madame Chang. Saira sat facing across from
her. He wasn't sure where the antipathy Saira showed towards Chang came from,
but he was willing to trust her on it. Next to Saira, and across from himself
was their latest unwanted passenger, the Englishman who called himself Preemus.

After a whole lot of dickering at Changs, Will's group,
including Guang, were allowed to proceed with rescuing Abigail's father. The
kick as far as Capitan Will was concerned, had been that Madame Chang had
insisted that she go along, bringing along her pet giant from front door,
Torkul.

Will had not figured out Chang's angle yet.  She hinted that
she had some affection for Lord Hadley, a strategy that Will gave her credit
for. It was not laid on too heavily if it was a con.  Even the little she had
said had not set well with Abigail though. Either Chang was being honest, which
Will rather doubted, or she had an itch for that limitless power Abigail was
searching for. The latter, Will could well believe.

They had left the club by a hidden door that let them out on an
alley that ran the length of the building. At the end of it, they should be
right by where Sebastian had the steam car waiting, an easy out. Except that it
had not turned out that way.

No sooner were they all in the dark alley than gunfire had erupted
at them from both ends of it. Will had shoved Abigail down amongst the refuse
heaped along the right side of the alley, while he drew his revolver and tried
to make himself a smaller target by scrunching against the wall. Bullets
splattered off the brick by his head. The muzzle flashes lit up the darkness
before and behind him.  He didn't dare try to pop up for a shot.   

The big man Torkul had been caught by the first volley. The
crack-crack-crack of the crossfire had jerked him around like a puppet whose
strings had gotten tangled, before crashing him to the ground. Whoever was
firing wasn't fooling around. Will figured from the sound of the fire that they
were using automatic carbines, expensive military stuff. The bullets were
ricocheting everywhere.  They intended for them all to be dead.

There were screams, and the muzzle flashes behind them stopped.
The fire from the front of the alley slackened as the attackers trying to
figure what had happened to their friends. Will popped up shooting. Saira had
dropped her cloak and was trying now to snake crawl towards that side of the
alley, her knives in her hands.

A voice shouted in English called out, “Get down!”

Will sensed rather than saw the round objects that sailed
overhead from behind. He threw himself over Abigail, pressing her to the ground.
The front end of the alley lit up with explosions, shrapnel singing around them
like bees.

When the ringing in his ears had started to fade, Will stuck
his head up again. The shooting had stopped. He spun towards the dark rear of
the alley, gun ready.

“I am a friend,” the same voice called out. Will shook his head
to clear it from the explosions and the ringing in his ears.

“Then step forward with your hands empty,” Will yelled back.
Out of the darkness Will saw a dapper-looking Englishman walk slowly towards
them hands held up. He was smiling. “That did it for them, didn't it?” the man
said cheerily.  Behind Will he heard Abigail choke out, “Preemus!”     

~ ~ ~
                                          

Preemus returned Will's regard calmly as they sat in the
car, the light flickering across his face from the passing lights. Will still
held his revolver, which he shifted on his lap as he spoke.

“I think that it's time we had a talk Mr. Preemus,” Hunting Owl
said The gun wasn't exactly pointed at Preemus, but it wasn't pointed away
either.

“By all means, Captain,” the man replied in his cultured voice.
“What would you like to talk about?”

“How 'bout we start with why you blackmailed your way into this
car,” Will said.

“I did no such thing,” Preemus replied. “I merely pointed out
how difficult your endeavors might become with every constable in the city
looking to stop you, which I would be bound to report. As to why,” he said, “as
I mentioned to Lady Abigail before, I am looking for a friend. When we find
Lord Hadley, I am certain that my friend will not be far behind.”

“Would that be the friend that you lost about a week ago?” Will
guessed aloud.

Preemus' jaw tightened slightly, but he remained silent. The
Captain nodded. 

“See Preemus, here's my problem,” Will explained. “You showed
up about a week ago, as the Governor-General's private secretary. But I've
never heard of a secretary who could kill gun men in a dark alley, and who also
carried grenades in his evening suit. I don't trust the secretary story, so I
don't trust you. If I don't trust you, I don't see why I shouldn't just kill
you now. So who are you really, and what do you want?”

“I told you Captain, my name is Alfred Preemus,” he began.

“That is not his name,” Chang broke in. “He is lying.”

“Thank you, Madam,” Will said. “See?” he said pointedly to
Preemus, “even the crooked crime boss doesn't believe that story. Now,” he said
in a suddenly hard voice, barrels centering on Preemus, “One last time. Who are
you, and what do you want?”

The silence stretched out as Preemus looked at him. Abigail
stirred beside Will, but said nothing. The man smiled, raising a hand in a
gesture that fencers used to acknowledge a hit.

“You seem to have me at a disadvantage, Captain,” the man said.
“It appears that even the Lady Abigail trusts your judgment about shooting a
Crown Servant in cold blood.” He sighed at her. “Very well, but I must warn you
that what I can tell you may place you all in more danger.”

“I think we can deal with that,” Will replied dryly. The car
bounced harder as it turned onto unpaved roads. 

Preemus nodded, “Very well,” he said, “my real name is Bardon,
Richard Bardon, KCVO, OBE, and a number of other letters.” Will's eyebrows shot
up at this. Abigail gave a small gasp. Bardon smiled thinly.  “I see that you
have heard of me.”

The whole world had heard of Sir Richard Bardon. As Queen
Victoria's secret agent, it had been Bardon who, during the darkest days of the
Invader War, had gathered the different savants from around the world. They
agreed to work in secret at the hidden fortress beneath Gibraltar. Those
geniuses, led by Nikola Tesla, were responsible for the discoveries that had
saved mankind from the aliens. The same discoveries had created much of the
modern world.

Will had read one of Bardon books about how he traveled in
secret during that time. Will had even copied a trick or two from that book.
The man was famous, although Will  had never seen a picture or a kinescope of
Bardon. The man in front of him could be who he said he was, for all Will knew.

“That is a rather extraordinary claim,” Abigail said archly
from beside Will. “I assume that you can provide proof to substantiate it.”

Wordlessly Bardon turned up the lapel of his coat, revealing a
small badge in the shape of an eye. He touched finger to it, and the center
glowed a deep purple. Abigail nodded in satisfaction.

“He is a Queen’s Eye,” she affirmed to the coach at large. “The
same process is used for my crest. It is one of the most closely guarded
secrets of the Royal Order of Scholars. It cannot be counterfeited.”  The
Queens Eyes were the most elite secret agents of Her Majesty Victoria.
Supposedly small in number, their loyalty to the Crown was beyond reproach.
They answered only to the Monarch Herself, and their authority was vast,
Abigail knew. It was rumored that even Admirals and Viceroys grew pale at the
sight of that glowing purple eye. Will sighed wearily, but didn't lower his
gun.

“Yeah, this day just keeps getting better,” the Captain said
almost to himself. “You on a job for your Queen?” he asked shortly.

“If I was,” Bardon said with his sad smile, “I could not tell
you. As it happens, I really am searching for a friend. Lord Hadley appealed
for my friends help. When we arrived in Hong Kong, Hadley failed to keep our
rendezvous. Five days ago, my friend failed to return to our lodging. I fear
the fool went looking for him on his own, and ran afoul of whoever Hadley did.
Ergo, we find Hadley my friend should be nearby.” He shrugged. “I admit it is a
thin hope, but it is all I have.”

“Huh,” Will said. “Why the secretary thing then? I would think
that you could just flash that shiny bauble and have the entire colony turned
upside down.”

“You would think so, but there are several good reasons not to.”
Bardon explained. “As a high-ranking secretary I could go anywhere and ask
anything, all without arousing suspicions.” He smiled again, “Middle-aged
officious busybodies are a British institution. Most importantly, any public
alarm would likely cause our villains to simply kill their captives and vanish.”
His grey eyes flashed in the dim cabin. “That must not happen.” Saira, like the
rest of them had been looking at Bardon while he spoke.

“You are the
White Tiger
,” Saira said flatly. It was not
a question. Will watched Bardon visibly wince. Bardon turned to face Saira.

“Legends are not always accurate, Behan,” Bardon said. He
followed this with a flow of liquid words in a language Will couldn't follow.

“I would prefer that we speak English,” Saira replied coldly to
him.

“As you wish,” Bardon said, spreading his hands. “It is true
though.”

“Saira,” Will asked his Arms Master in a careful voice. His gun
still pointed at Bardon. “What is this White Tiger business?”

“It can be told, I suppose,” Saira said with a shrug. “In my
grandmother's time, a young Englishman became the only white man ever to study
the ways of the Naga. He became very great in the Way. Then he was banished for
reasons that are never spoken of. Some say he was a traitor to the circle,
others that he abused the heart of a young priestess. There has been only one
other banishment in all our history.”

“As I said,” Bardon replied. “Legends are not always truth. How
is your Mother these days? You have much of her look about you.” Saira barked a
laugh.

“I would not know,” Saira said. “We had a disagreement some
time ago.” Bardon nodded seriously at this news.

“Your Mother always was. . .difficult,” Bardon said. “I assume
then,” he asked her carefully, “that she is not involved in our present affair?”

“Not that I know,” Saira replied, “but it is Mother after all.”
Saira shrugged, “I do not think so, however.”

“That is good,” the gentleman replied with a sigh. Bardon's
relief was evident at hearing her words. 

“So, Saira,” Will asked her gently. “Is this a problem? Do you
have to kill him or something?”

“No,” Saira said, looking at Bardon speculatively, “Although
the prospect would interesting.”

For the first time, Bardon laughed out loud. It was a deep
laugh that Will suspected wasn't heard much. The Captain now knew more than he
had, but he wasn't sure it helped him. Bardon looked at Will directly.

“Well Captain,” Bardon asked him. “What shall it be? Shall we
join forces, or will you shoot me now?”

“I suspect that I ought to shoot you,” Will said to him
unhappily. “Answer me two more questions.”

“If possible” the agent replied coolly. “What are they?”

“Are you armed?”

“Yes,” Bardon said blandly. When it was clear he wasn't going
to say more, Will went on.

“Will you follow my orders on this job?”

“When they seem reasonable,” Bardon replied. Will lowered his
gun.

“I am sure I am going to regret this,” Will said. “Understand
me, Queen’s Man, if any harm come to me or mine because of you, I will shoot
you.” 

“Then we have an understanding Captain,” said Bardon, who
nodded his head regally.

They felt the car slow and come to a stop. Guang lowered the
partition between the driver’s cab and the rear.

“If the secret agent and the Captain have finished,” Guang announced
through the opening, “we are here.”