Wind Dancer: Secret War Steampunk Series - Adventure, Mystery + Mad Science (18 page)

“More like − engine power. But with it you could
potentially do everything you just listed,” she said. Will looked out at the
stars in thought for a while.

“I would do what your Queen Victoria did twenty-five years
ago,” he finally answered her. “I would give it to everyone.”

“But the whole human race was facing extinction then!” She
objected turning towards him. “The world isn’t like that now. As you just said,
there are rabid people and people who want to ‘hold others down’ because they
can. Assume this power could give them the means to do that, or destroy
everything, even themselves. Do you really think that it should be handed over
to them? Wouldn’t it be better to have wise and benevolent people use it for
the good of everyone?” Will audibly blew out his breath at this before he
answered her.

“Well, not having met anyone like you just described, who’s
that wise and that benevolent and all, I couldn’t say really,” he said slowly.
“The rest of us haven’t done that well with what we have now you could say, but
I surely do like it that we all have it, more or less.” He looked up at the
stars and then grinned at her. “Maybe you would still need people like us
around to deal with the mean ones.”

She turned from him and back to looking at the stars.

“Perhaps we would,” she breathed. For the first time, her
heart whispered that maybe, just maybe, she was wrong. The honest scientific
mind set she had worked so hard to hone would not allow her to avoid the
conclusion that by extension, so was her father and the others of the
scientific Cabal. Was it really that they were being responsible? Or were they
perhaps being ‘small and mean’ to limit the knowledge of such power to only
themselves? She suspected how the Captain and the others of
Wind Dancer
would view the Cabal and it goals. At best, ‘arrogant bunch of toffs’ came to
mind. She found that she did not care for that view. No, she did not care for
it at all.

“I can tell you what I would do with that kind of power
myself, though,” Will said, interrupting her dark thoughts. She turned her
attention back to him curious as to his answer.

“Oh, and what would that be?” She asked him

“I would want to fly up there, and touch them,” he said,
pointing up at the stars. They both gazed up at the stars for some time in
silence. Finally, she looked over at him.

“Thank you Captain,” Abigail said. “I think perhaps I
understand, a little at least, what you mean. May we go in now? It’s quite
cold.”

“Of course,” Will said. “It gets that way at seven hundred
feet, even in the warm latitudes.” They returned the coats to their hooks and
after bidding the lookout a good evening, they descended in the lift in
silence. As the lift slowed towards their level Will turned towards her.

“So we’ll be docking in Hong Kong day after, well, today
really,” he remarked. “I imagine you’ll be glad to get on with your father.”

“Yes,” she smiled, “I will.” The lift stopped and they both
got out. Will pointed the way they were to go, seeing that Lady Hadley was
momentarily disoriented. They walked along side by side quietly towards her
cabin.

“What is it that you and he are doing again?” Will asked
finally as they neared her cabin door. Abigail did not even pretend not to
understand his question. Instead she gave him the cover story that her father
and she had agreed on before he had left on his current expedition.

That her father had been searching for the methods of the
Invaders power generation was hardly secret among their peers. He, and later
both of them, had been searching for years for an intact power system that the
mysterious Invaders had used, haunting old War sites throughout Europe. They
had discovered some interesting artifacts, and published not a few interesting
theoretical articles as they sought to re-create what the Invaders had used. So
thorough, however, had the Invaders been in the destruction of their equipment
that the Hadley's hunting had been unsuccessful.

When an underground movement called the Science Cabal had
contacted the Hadley family with an offer of aid to further their discoveries
they had joined it freely. The Cabal’s avowed aims of creating a scientific
group of world rulers did not seem very different than what some of the New
Party had advocated, only more silent in its efforts. Besides, the addition in
funds had enabled Lord Hadley to investigate promising sites around the world.
Abigail had remained in New Oxford, performing the duties required of them both
as members of the Royal Order of Scholars. His expeditions were not exactly
illegal, merely unconventional.

The coded Aetherwave message Lord Hadley had sent to her from
Hong Kong had prompted Abigail to begin this secret madcap adventure of her own
in order to aid him. They had estimated that the Invaders were able to call
upon energy generation in limitless quantities. The discovery of an intact
Invader power source would shake not only the international scientific
community, but the entire world order, they had both been sure. That they had
decided not to tell the British government, let alone their fellow Scholars in
the Cabal, now began to seem to Abigail as perhaps not so wise. However, she
said none of this she said to the Captain.

“We’re surveying how the power distribution could be
improved,” she replied not looking at him. Lying to this man did not feel right
somehow, despite everything.

Will nodded, saying nothing for a moment. Even his
grandmother wouldn’t have bought that one, he thought. So, she was lying
because she had a secret. That was alright, he thought. He knew something about
having secrets. He had a few of his own. He’d just hoped that maybe she’d tell
him hers. She hadn’t. That didn’t mean that their secrets were at cross
purposes. Maybe they weren’t he thought hopefully. Only time would tell if it
was a vain hope or a true one. Still, the hunt must go on.

“That’s right,” He said to her easily. “You did mention
something about that, now I recall. Well, from what I’ve seen of China that could
help a lot of people. End a lot of misery.” They had reached her cabin door.

“Yes,” she smiled at him, “That’s as science should do you
know.” She paused, as if deciding what to say, and then spoke again, “Well
Captain Hunting Owl, thank you for a most wonderful evening. If I may say so,
your crew, and yourself, are really most extraordinary.” Will gave her his grin
and touched his finger to forehead in salute.

“We aim to please, Lady Hadley,” he said and turned to go.
She began to do the same, then impulsively turned back towards him.

“My friends call me Abigail. I do hope that we may be
friends, Captain.” She faltered a moment, not sure what she was asking. “That
is, if you wish.”

He grinned again, folding his arms across his chest.

“Well Abigail, in that case, then you should call me Will,
and yes we surely may, and yes I would.”

She nodded and faintly smiled back.

“Alright then. Goodnight, Will.” She turned to go inside, but
stopped when he spoke again.

“Abigail,” he asked. “Can you shoot a pistol?” She turned
full back towards him in astonishment. Of all the things that a handsome man
might ask her at her door, she had never expected something like that.

“Yes I can,” she said, “Although rapier was always my best in
dueling class. Why do you ask?”

“Sword, eh?” He rubbed his chin at her answer. “I can see
that. If you don’t mind my asking, you ever duel for real, or anything like it,
outside of this ‘dueling class’?” She blinked at the change of subject, unsure
as to what he was about.

“No, I haven’t,” she said perplexed. “But I must say, I don’t
intend to start any duels in China!”

“Be that as it may,” he allowed. “I think that you have seen
that all out here is not quite as it is back in merry old England. We have got
a few spare guns. I think you should have one.” She looked at him in
astonishment. “What would I do with a gun?” Will looked suddenly very serious.

“Nothing, I hope.” He said quietly.

“Well I should think not!” Abigail exclaimed. Then she
remembered to lower her voice to match his in the corridor. “I am a Scholar
after all,” she said quietly, “not a…a gunsel.”

“Good!” He grinned at her. “I will have Saira meet up with
you at mid watch then. Consult with her. You can pick out something that
suits.” He turned and started to walk down the corridor.

“Wait! I don’t want a gun!” Abigail hissed after him.

“Sleep on it,” he said over his shoulder. He waved again
without breaking stride. “Good night, Abigail.” He slowed when he heard her
cabin door slam shut. He turned around, and looked back at the door, thumbs in
his gun belt, thinking.

He hadn’t intended to spring the idea on her like that, but
he suddenly had a hunch, and he did not have time for her mannerly objections.
At least, this way he could be sure she would think about it. He didn’t know if
Abigail knew that her father had been making underworld contacts, nor did he
know the trouble that she might face in Hong Kong. His hunch though was that
that she would welcome having a gun at some point. He had some experience with
hunches.

Chapter Twelve

Cherry Blossom Lane, Hong Kong

Lord Albert Leighton, Royal Order of Scholars wrinkled his
nose at the loathsome smells that permeated through his breathing mask as he
carefully picked his way down the murky lane. Albert hated everything about
Hong Kong. The smells, the foul air, the heat − it was no place for an
Englishman. He cursed the day he had been foolish enough to accept a commission
in the Colonial Government. Assistant director of Aetherwave Operations had
sounded so much more impressive than the reality had turned out to be.

His days were spent trapped between maddening boredom and the
humiliation of having to listen to that toad, White. The director was an
incompetent pig. By rights, Albert should have his position, not be relegated
to being little more than the office tinker. It was a bitter disappointment to
him. In consolation, his nights were spent at first with gambling and drink.
Gradually he moved into the more disreputable sections of the city as his debts
grew and the better houses would no longer have him. Then he had discovered the
pleasant dreams of what the locals called the white dragon.

At first, the opium had been his salvation. It had made even
this hellish place seem survivable. Then as his time in the opium dens had
grown, White’s demands on him seemed to increase, even while Albert’s exchequer
diminished. Albert had been at the point of despair when the offer appeared
wearing the face of an angel. He had seized that opportunity with both hands.
It had taken courage to do so he knew, but tonight would see him free of this
accursed place forever.

He startled at a noise, hand going to the handle of his sword
cane. The place named for the meeting was not in an area that a white man
normally would visit alone at night. He was far from afraid however. After all,
he was a young man of strong constitution with experience in the Barjitsu
fighting arts, learned from the master of the arts himself in London. Still,
even a lion was wary of jackals. He peered through the shadows ahead of him as
he inched forward. The lane was only dimly lit by a gaslight at the street
corner behind him.

A small shape coalesced out of the darkness. He relaxed as a
familiar voice spoke.

“Are you certain you were not followed?” The lilting voice sang
out to him. Albert pulled off his breather, and smiled at the shadowy figure.

“Yes,” Albert replied. “I did exactly as you requested. I
came by way of both the harbor, and the air tower. I changed bishaws often. I
was not followed.”

The small figure came forward and a glint of gold curls shone
in the dim light. She smiled up at him.

“Good, Albert. Good,” she said in her lilting accent. “And
have you finished your tasks?”

“Yes,” the Scholar replied. “I replaced the crystals of the
Governor’s own wave set earlier today on a maintenance pretext. That was the
last of them.” He frowned at her. “You do know that they will discover the
substitutions in days, a few weeks at most. I really fail to see what this
accomplishes.”

“That is not your concern Albert,” his little Russian angel
reminded him.

Albert shrugged in agreement. It really wasn’t his concern.
The Russians and the British had been adversaries in the Game of Empire since
before the War, and still were. The principles of the once grand Alliance of Nations
− to be united against the Invaders − were paid lip service to, and
little more than that. Why should he care if the Russians wanted to snarl up
communications in this God forsaken armpit for a few days?

She stepped closer. He was surprised to see that the tiny
Russian woman was now wearing the black pants and frogged coat of the natives,
rather than the corset and silks that she wore when they met. No matter. He did
not really find her china−doll beauty attractive, though he could
appreciate it in the abstract. He held out a bag that jiggled with crystals. He
knew that discreet connection crystals such as these were worth far more than
what he was being paid, but beggars could not be choosers. She took the bag
from his hand.

“I’ve kept up my end,” He said briskly. “Now where is the
rest of what I am due?” It had been agreed that part of his final payment would
be arrangements for him to leave Hong Kong for wherever he wished, in addition
to ten thousand pounds in negotiable bank bonds. A few days from now would find
him in Jakarta, and from there a whole new life was waiting.

“Ah yes, your due,” the small woman said. She was now inches
away. Albert hoped that she would not attempt some sort of sordid seduction
instead of paying him. He started to raise his hand to stop her.

“Really, I…” he felt a sharp coldness in his guts. His hand
felt suddenly far away as blackness dropped over him.

Illiya Petrov wiped her blade on the Englishman’s coat, and
then stepped back, careful of the blood spray from the corpse. She breathed
heavily for a moment, looking down at the body.

“Take him away,” she finally ordered. Two members of a local
Han gang she had subverted came out of the shadows to pick up the body.

She walked to the far end of the lane where a steam car hissed,
waiting for her. She could have had the men kill him, but she had so few
pleasures left of her own. Her spirit sensed with approval the fear of the Han
driver who held the door open for her. It had been laughably easy to seize
control of a sizable portion of the city’s criminal brotherhoods, using nothing
more than murder and money.

When she had first been placed in charge of
Operation Jade
,
she have met with the smaller underworld leaders of Hong Kong to offer them
what she was careful to imply was Imperial Russian aid to undermine their
British overlords. The former leaders had called her the ‘White Doll’ at that
first meeting when they thought she could not understand their language. She
had enlightened them that she understood it very well, and the walls had run
red with their blood. She smiled at the memory. Their successors now whispered
her name as the
White Death
.

As soon as Kane arrived with the Hadley woman, they could
begin to extend control over the older crime organizations, beginning with An
Fong. Once he was subdued, the others would quickly fall in line. Now that the
government Aetherwave sets were compromised, phase two could begin, and none
too soon. It had been an order from the Master that they were also to deal with
this Hadley affair in addition to Operation Jade. Sending Kane to capture the
woman had left her short-handed. She frowned, seeing one of the local gang
leaders sitting within the cabin of her car.

“Why are you here,” she asked him coldly in Cantonese. The
man could barely contain his terror, she noticed with contempt.

“Forgive me,” he said in a rush. “Our source within the An
Fong House reports that the awaited package will arrive in his hands tomorrow.”

“What?” She hissed, as the man flinched. “How is that
possible?” The denial of An Fong’s delivery would greatly weaken the Fong
House. That was the reason that Kane had been detailed to intercept it. Kane
had been certain that the additional task of capturing the Hadley girl would
present no great problems. Petrov had agreed with his assessment, and given him
permission to proceed. That had been the last communication she had from him.

“I do not know Great Lady,” the gang leader replied. “Only
that it is to be delivered by a Captain Hunting Owl of the airship
Wind
Dancer
.”

Illiya snarled wordlessly and the gang leader flinched. The
Wind
Dancer
and Hunting Owl she thought to herself. He and that half-breed bitch
had been trouble enough in Cairo. She had never been satisfied with the outcome
of that encounter. But, how could he know of their plans? What had happened to
Kane? She gathered her thoughts, there were too many questions raised by this
news.

“Was there any mention of a woman named Hadley as well?” she
asked. The man shook his head rapidly more afraid than he had ever been. He had
seen other men horribly killed by her for bringing bad news.

“No, Great Lady,” he said desperately. “If you wish I can
give orders to inquire?”

“No, you wrenched dolt! Be quiet.” She thought for a moment,
while the man sweated in the car across from her.

“What you will do is send men to watch the air towers,” she
directed. “As soon as the
Wind Dancer
docks I wish to know of it. Also
if there appears to be an English Scholar with them I wish to know that as
well. Also ready a team to take back the package before it reaches An Fong. Now
go!” The man almost dived out the side door, grateful to escape with his life.

Illiya rapped on the partition to the driver’s compartment.
It scrolled down a hairs breadth, to reveal the driver’s eyes.

“Back to the main house, as quickly as you can.” The driver
nodded scrolling up the screen. The car’s steam valves hissed as the steam car began
to lurch forward.

As the car turned onto the more crowded thoroughfare, Petrov
snarled wordlessly at the streaming mass of people she could see through the
window. They were all rats, she thought, mindless, teeming vermin that should
be eliminated as useless.

She understood that her current mission was only to ensure
the subversion of Hong Kong for the secret society of the
Lux Invictus
,
rather than for Imperial Russia. Culling the population for the more suitable
workers would have to come later, she knew, but she still wanted to simply wipe
them all away. She was tired of the stink and the smells, and the mindless jabber
all the vermin spoke in. Perhaps when
Operation Jade
was completed she
could request heading up the culling as a boon for a job well done. The thought
made her smile again.

That she had been chosen to spearhead
Operation Jade
was a singular honor, especially as she had only attained to the Second Circle
of the Society in the last year. She looked down at her hands, feeling the
strength and vitality that coursed through her as a result of her
Transformation. Illiya had been a member of the
Lux Invictus
for only
three years, but attaining the Transformation of the Second Circle had shown
her that her superiors had recognized the devotion she held for the principles
of the Society. That her devotion had resulted in the Transformation was a
miracle indeed, especially for a one who had doubted in miracles not so long
ago as the Russian assassin.

Illiya Petrov has been born into a serf family on the estate
of the Boyar Chekov outside of Moscow. Though the old Tsar had ‘freed the
serfs’ of the Boyars, or Lords, the War had changed many things. The new Tsar
cared so little about those who had formerly been serfs that Illiya’s family
had been slaves in every way that mattered. No matter how hard her family
worked, they were forever in debt to the Boyar. Illiya had been sold to the
feared Okhranka, the secret police, when she turned thirteen to meet that
year’s tax obligation. After two years of training she had made her first kill.
She smiled whenever she remembered him, an arrogant Cossack leader who had
whimpered like a child before the end. Illiya still used the weapon she had
made that first kill with, the Cossack’s own kindjal, a long double edged
dagger. It was still her favorite means of killing. She was very good at
killing she discovered. Her superiors were delighted.

Some years later, she had a brief affair with a cello player
in Moscow. She found the cello soothing, and at eighteen she had earned from
the Okhranka the right to indulge some of her own whims. Unfortunately, he had
prattled on annoyingly about love after a while. When she had attempted to end
the affair because she was bored, he had gone on about some absurd theory he
had learned in university about how the hardships of her early life made her
incapable of loving others, which was absurd. The difference was that she had a
talent that would let her rise above her station, a talent she enjoyed − killing.
What had that boring fool with his soft hands known of that? He had continued
to try to see her, and she had been annoyed enough at his behavior that she had
finally killed him. It was the most satisfying moment of the whole dreary
business for her.

It was shortly after that when she had attained the rank of Major
in the Secret Police that she had learned of the
Lux Invictus
. It had
been her mentor in the service who had brought her into the Light. The
Unconquerable Light only accepted those who had shown that they were of
superior human stock which her mentor confirmed. Illiya had always known she
was superior. Their mission was nothing less than righting the decadent
weakness that had been allowed to overtake the human race, replacing the inferior
ruling classes with superior specimens, such as herself. The Society of the
Invincible Light was everywhere around the world now, drawing in those true
humans who would restore the natural order of things.

Under the guidance of the Great Masters Beyond, as one
advanced in the Light one was granted a greater unfolding of their own natural
superiority as well as a deeper connection to the wisdom of the Great Masters.
Having only obtained the Second Circle, Illiya Petrov did not have the union of
spirit that the Masters did with Great Masters Beyond. However, she could feel
the Great Masters constantly at the back of her mind, waking and sleeping, like
the rumble of thunder in the distance. She sighed, stroking the hilt of her
kindjal. When she had obtained the First Circle she would be invincible, and
she could hardly await that blessed day.

She already knew that she was stronger, faster, and smarter
than inferior beings such as Hunting Owl and his motley crew of mongrels. They
would not interfere this time as they had in Cairo, she vowed. No doubt an
ambush by her local allies would be sufficient for the capture of Hunting Owl.
If it also led to a loss of face for An Fan so much the better for Operation
Jade. She could then see to the capture of the English Scholars herself. She
had no doubt that that bungler Kane had let the daughter slip through his
fingers somehow. What the Master wanted with them was not her concern; the
Master had simply ordered the Scholars’ capture. It was therefore a priority,
but not as high a priority as
Operation Jade,
she judged. Yes, she
decided, as she leaned back in the push car seat, pleased with herself. Yes,
she truly did possess a superior mind to craft such a plan. Soon she would turn
that mind to the torment of the
Wind Dancer’s
captain. If any of her
gangster allies could have seen her smile, they would have paled.