Khronos (Hanover and Singh Book 3) (9 page)

“I will decide if you are all right.” Pressing her knuckle into the centre of Vladimir’s chest, Lena smiled as he grimaced. “You are lucky. Only your ribs are broken. I have never seen a man fight a machine before,” Lena studied Vladimir’s face. “Most impressive, Poruchik.” She turned to Stepan. “You can carry him now, Kapitan.”

“Where to? Have you established a safe area?”

Lena stood. “This is
your
city, Kapitan. My men and I are just trying to get out of it.”

“With a stolen Puckle Gun?” Vladimir grasped his chest as he chuckled.

“Stolen? We found it. It is ours now,” Lena reached up, jabbing her finger an inch from Vladimir’s face. “Do you want to say anything about that?”

“No,” Stepan placed his hand on Lena’s shoulder. “Vladimir...”

“Remove your hand, Kapitan.” Lena flicked her finger toward Stepan. “I am not in your navy.”

“No, you are not.” Stepan removed his hand. “But I would be honoured if you would stay with us just a while longer. Until you find your way out of the city, of course.”

“Honoured?” Lena’s face softened.

“Yes.” Stepan took a breath. “We could use your help.”

Chapter 6

Northfleet Gateway Port

Gravesend, England

May, 1851

The bruised wooden gunwales of the
Pride of London
bumped against the greasy timbers of the freighter dock beneath the shadows of skeletal derricks swinging loads back and forth from the dockside to the steamjammers’ cavernous holds. Khaos balanced barefoot upon the gunwale, leaping onto the dock as the Northfleet men tied the mooring lines. She twirled between them, drawing stares and appreciative smiles from the men, damp and miserable as they were, in the wind and rain.

Stepping onto the deck of the river freighter, Hannah waved a thin oilskin envelope at the Master in the wheelhouse. She waited for him to join her as Aether and the Germans climbed the steps from the crew quarters and disembarked.

“Your payment,” Hannah pressed the oilskin into the Master’s hands. He opened it.

“More than I expected.” Pocketing the sheaf of notes, he returned the oilskin to Hannah. “I didn’t make her fall in the river,” the Master flicked his head in Khaos’ direction.

“More’s the pity,” Hannah sighed. “But that’s not what I have paid you extra for.”

“No? What then?”

Hannah stepped closer. “I need you to get a message to Wallendorf Industries in Frankfurt. Send a telegram to Luther Wallendorf. Tell him that I need to see him when we land. He must be at the dockside in Hamburg. There are more instructions in the envelope.” Hannah pressed the oilskin into the Master’s hand.

“All right,” the Master turned to leave. Hannah gripped his elbow.

“You’ll send the telegram,
ja
?”

“Yes,” he looked down at his arm. “Of course.”

“Good,” Hannah released her grip and looked down at the Master’ boots. “I’ll give you a pound for your boots.”

“My boots?”

Hannah held up her high heels. “I can’t carry these around all day.”

“You can have my boots for two pounds.”

“Done,” Hannah pulled two coins from a pocket inside her corset jacket. The Master removed his boots. Pressing the money into his hands, Hannah tossed her heels into the river. “What?” she frowned at the Master. “You didn’t want them, did you?”

“No,” he chuckled and handed her the boots. Padding across the deck in his thick brown socks, he stopped at the wheelhouse door. “Safe journey, Miss...”

“Ense,” Hannah pulled the warm boots over her bare feet. “Hannah von Ense.” The Master waved one last time before entering the wheelhouse. The door rattled in the wind. Hannah tied the laces, walked across the deck and left the boat.

“You were a long time,” Aether approached Hannah, Khaos tugging at his arm. “Everything all right?”

“
Ja
,” Hannah buttoned her jacket, pulling the tight-fitting tails over her hips. “I had to pay for our transport.”

“And you have money enough for the onward journey to Germany?”

“
Ja
,” Hannah nodded.

“Good.” Aether wrapped his arm around Khaos, drawing her close. He kissed her on the forehead. “I am looking forward to meeting your father, the great Luther Wallendorf.”

“My father?” Khaos took a step back. “But, my father is...”

“Romney, dearest,” Aether wiped the rain from her cheeks with his palm. “If we are to succeed with our plans, we really must stay in character. Isn’t that right, Hannah?”

Hannah stared at Khaos. Hands at her sides, she clenched her fists. “Yes, Herr Bremen.”

“See,” Aether twirled Romney within his arms. “Hannah will play her part perfectly. Everything will be normal and we will pave the way for our brothers and sisters to join us.”

“Will they need bodies, too?” Hannah held her breath.

“Yes, of course,” Aether leaned closer to Hannah. “Will that be a problem? There are plenty of people to choose from, are there not? Here
and
in Germany.” He gestured at the Germans and the Northfleet men chatting on the dockside. “I cannot imagine it will be a problem. Plenty to go around.”

“Against their will...” Hannah whispered.

“What’s that?” Khaos let go of Aether. Walking slow circles around Hannah, she ran the nails of her right hand along Hannah’s shoulders, across her chest. “What did she say?”

“It was nothing, Khaos. I am sure,” Aether held out his hand. “Come,
Romney
, let us banter with the men as we walk to the Steamjammer. Fräulein von Ense looks like she is in need of a pause for thought.” Taking Khaos’ hand, Aether pressed his finger upon Hannah’s chin, tugging her bottom lip down, exposing her fine teeth. “Do think, Hannah. Take as much time as you wish. It will be better that you do.” A fine blue light seeped out of the pores of the skin of Aether’s finger. The light spread over Hannah’s chin, drifting into her mouth.

“Aether,” Khaos warned. “We must not...”

“Calm yourself, dearest,” Aether soothed over his shoulder. Hannah’s jaw locked, her tongue sitting heavy in her open mouth. “I have often found, a long time ago, that a little demonstration of power is sometimes necessary.” Pulling his finger from Hannah’s chin, he stepped back as she pressed her fingers around her jaw. “There. Is that better?” Aether smiled. “What’s that? You can’t speak? Don’t worry, I have only slowed the muscles and skin around your mouth.” He leaned in closer. “Imagine what I could do to your whole body. Paralysis is such a time-consuming state to be in. Nothing to do but think. The brain is the only thing we can’t slow. Think about that, during your little pause, Hannah von Ense.”

Hannah pawed at her jaw as Aether and Khaos walked over to the men. She watched as Aether reassured Armbrüster with a light touch on the arm that Hannah would be joining them in a moment. His words carried by the wind. Khaos waved, twirling about the men, her damp, red hair shedding beads of devilish amusement in the shifting shadows beneath the spinning arms of the derricks.

҉

The wind whipped at Hari’s robes as he plunged toward the roiling surface of the North Sea. Hands outstretched, the airship escaped him, growing smaller every second as he pitched downward. Hari stared, at the tiny people crowding the windows, peeping above the sill, staring, pointing at something to their right. Hari squinted in the wind as his view of the airship was obscured by a small gasbag deflating with a burst of gas bubbling from the valve in the bottom of the bag.

The oily black balloon filled Hari’s vision, shadowing his face from the onslaught of rain, and slamming into his body. Winded, Hari stuttered as he grasped at the ropes criss-crossing the balloon, scrabbling for purchase.

“Take this, Hari,” Luise yelled into the wind. Suspended in the leather bucket-harness, she tugged a hemp halter over Hari’s head as he slid down the face of the balloon. “Get your arms through it. Quickly.”

Hari gripped the leather guys fastened to the balloon cradle. Luise’s legs slipped sideways as Hari’s weight dipped the balloon. Slipping his arm through the halter, he cast a glance at the sea below, the roar of the waves competing with that of the wind.

“Never mind the sea, Hari,” Luise pulled the halter tight as Hari fought his other arm through the opening. Securing Hari to the chest strap of the bucket-harness, Luise leaned back to stare up toward the airship.

“Thank you,” Hari dangled beneath Luise’s head, his body twisting in the wind.

“We’re not there yet, Hari,” Luise leaned father back. “Where is he?”

“Who?”

“Jacques. He is supposed to...” The balloon jerked upward, its descent slowed with an abrupt stop. “There,” Luise gripped the leather steering guys.

“You have a rope attached to the balloon?” Leaning his head back as far as the halter allowed Hari twisted to the left.

“You won’t see it,” Luise wiped the rain from her face. “It’s tied to the top of the cradle.”

“Ingenious,” Hari let his body hang in the halter. He gripped Luise around her waist. “This is one of the lifeboats?”

“Yes. Jacques and I...”

“What?” Hari waited.

Luise took a deep breath. “I am sorry, Hari. I didn’t mean to doubt you, but we just couldn’t see how you were going to rescue that young girl.”

“So you came up with another plan?”

“Yes,” Luise paused. “I didn’t want to lose you, Hari.”

“And I did not want to be lost.” Hari reached up with his right hand, smoothing the rain away from Luise’s face. He looked up. “Are we attached to the
Scotsman
? That must be a very long rope.”

“Not the
Scotsman
, no,” Luise leaned back, her brow wrinkling beneath the wet strands of her strawberry blonde fringe. “Something a little more fragile, I am afraid.” A smile tickled the corners of her mouth. “There they are. Look up, Hari.”

Slicing through the swathes of rain gusting in the grip of the wind, four lengths of thick rope caught Hari’s eye as they stretched from one lifeboat balloon to the next, all the way back to
The Flying Scotsman
labouring through the storm above them.

“I had to empty this bag to reach you.”

“You must have jumped before I fell.”

“I have never done anything like it,” she grinned. “Most exhilarating, let me tell you.”

“I think I know,” Hari’s eyes lit up in the light escaping from a brief crack in the dense cloud covering the sea.

“I had to jump before I even knew you had fallen, before the window shattered.”

Hari leaned back in the halter and stared at the lifeboats. “And what is the next part of your plan?”

“That’s up to Jacques,” Luise sighed. “He said something about a winch, but he could only use it if the airship was flying level.”

“Well,” Hari pointed up at the clouds. “There is a break or two up there, and I am not quite as chilled as I was before.”

“So you are happy to hang around with me?” Luise let go of the steering guys and placed her hands upon Hari’s shoulders.

“This is the third time I have been dangling in perilous situations,” Hari smiled.

“Hari Singh,” Luise frowned. “Did you just call me
perilous
?”

“Yes, Miss Luise, I believe I just did.”

The balloon jerked upward as the rope began to stretch taut in the wind. Light splintered the clouds and the whitecaps rolling along the surface of the sea shrank beneath them.

҉

The heavy oak door creaked as the tiny Cossack, Lena Timofeyevich, leaned her weight against it, locking it with a loud snick of an iron bolt. Lena pulled the bandoliers over her shoulders and hung them on the rusted nail protruding from the centre of the door. “I know what they are,” she pushed a crate into the middle of the dark cellar with the toe of her boot. “But I don’t know to what purpose they are intended.” Lena pointed at the rough chairs leaning against the walls of the cellar. “Take a chair,” she nodded at Stepan and Vladimir. “Yuri will come when dinner is prepared. After he has cleaned the
drakon
.”

“Drakon?” Vladimir set his chair next to the crate in the middle of the dusty stone floor.

“The Puckle Gun,” Stepan ventured. “It sounded like a dragon spitting fire up close.” Placing his chair next to Vladimir, he waited until Lena was seated on a chair of her own. “You said you know what they are. We were expecting mechanized labour for the mines. That is what the posters promised.”

Lena reached inside her sheepskin jacket and tugged a metal heart-shaped flask from an inside pocket. “You like it?” she waggled the flask in front of Vladimir. “My father said it is the closest thing I will ever have to a real heart.” Lena uncapped the flask and took a long pull. She passed the flask to Stepan. “Murmansk vodka,” she licked her lips. “I hope you navy boys can take it.”

“Boys?” Stepan took a swig of vodka and grimaced. “You are in your twenties?”