Brotherhood of the Strange (Kingship, Tales from the Aether Book 1) (16 page)

“Grigori wants these Lazarus prototypes, these Necro-Automata to be field tested. They are conditioned to be truly vicious in battle. It has been decided we must have the Kingship. As I said, it was a brilliant idea to utilize it in locating your little time machine. Having its onboard technology will greatly aid us in that endeavor. These few dozen are being dispatched to secure the vessel. The crew would just be in the way, so it’s best we eliminate them. It’ll also give us some data on how they perform in hand to hand combat situations. It’s a pity, I imagine things will get quite messy by the looks of those steel claws. Now, Brother, Cordelia’s fate lies in your hands. If you cooperate, and help me with the translation, your niece will live. If you refuse, my daughter will die.”

Degory’s hand’s balled into tight fists, his clockwork hand creaking under the strain. “Damn you, Edward. Damn you to hell.”

The cargo hold of the Kingship looked as if a family of crazed tinkerers had celebrated Christmas morning, then left their gifts and packaging festooned about the area. It appeared as if someone had merged a mechanical circus with a madman’s dream, turned it inside out and then disassembled it. Before she’d opened them, Cordelia thought there would be far more equipment and components given the large size of the crates. However, most of the volume was taken up with loose cotton, burlap, and straw, each piece having been packed with exquisite care, and some of them looking rather fragile. Pulling herself away from the intriguing components, Cordelia gazed again at the stack of schematics and instructions Uncle Degory had left her, and blew her bangs out of her face. This was madness. Whenever he had to publish a paper to keep tenure at Oxford, his words were usually dictated to a typist. Those papers, no matter how obtuse the scientific topic, were always easy to read and follow. These documents, however, were a disordered mess of sketches, scribbles, and crossed out arrows. Clearly, these notes had originally been meant for his eyes only, serving as more of a mental map to access the knowledge stored in his mind. Dealings with her father and the despicable Hand of Paris had forced him to move his timetable and entrust her with these barely legible notes. She had gone over them several times in the past weeks, and had assumed they might make more sense when the equipment was in front of her. Now, looking past the papers to the dozen plus open crates of scientific apparatuses, the young doctor was convinced she was not up to the challenge, and would be unable to rescue her dear, sweet uncle. Though she was a genius at mechanical engineering, and could build clockwork arms and brass birds controlled by remote sound waves, the components here defied all of her conventional scientific knowledge. She didn’t even have names for most of these parts. Picking up a vacuum tube she wondered in frustration why on earth it had a piece of polished quartz inside it.

“Bah! I doubt if even the Almighty Himself would know how to put this bloomin’ witch’s cauldron o’ parts together!” spouted the raven haired spitfire of an engineer everyone called Wingnut. “We shoulda brought the Von Fersches along! They might have been able to make some sense of all o’ this!”

Cordelia returned the vacuum tube to its hay and cotton lined crate, “I’m sorry, whom did you say?”

“The Von Fersches. Relatives of Winston’s late wife, God rest her soul. They work with this kind of stuff. Not to mention they built some of it themselves, don’t ya know!”

“Well, I would more than welcome their assistance here,” she admitted. “A lot of this doesn’t really make much sense.”

“I don’t think it’s supposed to, Cordelia,” Wingnut replied. “This ship has a ton o’ this stuff built in some o’ the strangest places. I’ve never been able to make heads or tails out of it myself. Not that I’m all that keen to now, mind you. Oh no, once I learned the blasted Brotherhood o’ the Strange was behind it, I’d have been fine tearin’ what was left o’ them systems out and pitchin’ the whole lot overboard!”

Cordelia smiled. Though she had only been on board the Kingship for two nights and two days, she already knew it was best to let Wingnut have her tirades. The beautiful but greasy engineer had befriended her immediately, and now was helping her sort through the wooden cases Uncle Degory’s equipment had arrived in. In a short time she had already learned much about the small woman who paradoxically worked in a greasy, oversized jumpsuit which showed years of wear, yet took exquisite care to make sure her hair was perfect. While it was true Wingnut was a woman of short temper, Cordelia surmised, it was often more for show, her way of showing affection while still remaining tough, being the only woman on board. Normally, the upper class Londoner would find a lone woman on an aethership with four other men to be scandalous, but if the last couple of weeks had taught her anything, it was that life outside the comforts of King George’s Wall was not as cut and dry as she thought. It was also possible she had simply been naive to her surroundings at home as well. Besides, the four other men treated Wingnut like a little sister. Even if they hadn’t, Cordelia guessed the fiery Irish lass was more than capable of defending her honor.

What was curious was her instant, almost irrational reaction at the mere mention of the Brotherhood. While Cordelia had plenty of reason to be angry, as far as she could tell, Wingnut had no recent contact with them. It wasn’t only her. The entire crew had gone tight-lipped when she had brought it up, particularly Cornelius Burd and Captain Vance Williams. Clearly, there was considerably more to this than she was aware. She had therefore proceeded gingerly around the subject, feigning far less knowledge of the secret order than she actually had. She had even gone so far as to state that Degory was a scientist abducted by the Brotherhood because of his genius. Given the relationship of the Brotherhood and the Hand of Paris, it wasn’t that far from the truth, and she really didn’t think she could make the crew understand the whole situation, given their dislike of the order.

The two mismatched women rummaged and sorted for another half hour or so, engaging in light conversation as they went. A few times Cordelia had to catch herself if the Kingship moved or pitched suddenly. While her headaches brought on by altitude sickness had diminished,

she had yet to adjust to the occasional pitching and speed changes that occurred on an aethership. On one such occasion that was particularly turbulent, she stumbled, her boot getting caught in the hem of her dress. Dropping her papers, she tumbled. Before she could hit the cold, metal floor, she was caught around the waist by the ship’s captain, who quickly, and in a gentlemanly fashion, helped her back to her feet.

“Are you okay, Ms. Cady?” asked Vance.

“Um, yes, thank you, Captain,” Cordelia replied, a little embarrassed at her clumsiness. “I’m afraid I’m not quite used to life on an aethership.”

He gave her a disarming smile that helped to diminish her embarrassment, “Winston’s just turning us into the wind and locking down the controls. Give it time, it’ll come to you.” He looked at her shoes as he bent over to pick up Degory’s schematics. “Those high-heeled boots aren’t really suited for this metal flooring, though. I’d change into something more practical, if you can.”

“Yes, of course, Captain.” Vance had a scent about him that Cordelia couldn’t quite place. It was a spicy, almost autumnal smell, one the young doctor found unfamiliar and intriguing, and she hated to admit it to herself, somewhat alluring.

“Saints preserve us!” cried Wingnut. “You been smokin’ that blasted pipe o’ yours again, haven’t ya? Ya lousy git of a Captain!”

Captain Williams smiled a bit ruefully and pulled a pipe out of his black, military styled frock coat. “Only a little.”

It was odd. Cordelia didn’t particularly care for the smell of tobacco, but she couldn’t detect the faintest hint of it in the air. Noticing her confusion, the captain explained, “It’s mostly cinnamon, though I think this one has a little dried apple in it as well. Afa mixes these blends up for me. He says they’re a lot healthier. I tend to agree.” Now she understood the source of his scent.

“Yeah, healthier. Sure. So what brings ya down here, sir?” Wingnut asked.

“I wanted to make sure the cargo was up to Ms. Cady’s expectations. I hope we didn’t break anything,” he said with that same smile.

“If you did, I doubt I’d notice. So far, everything is fine, Captain. I should be able to start installing this equipment immediately. That is,” she added, “after I decipher my uncle’s handwriting.”

“Okay. Well, I admit I also came down to tell you there are a few things that need to be discussed first. Everyone’s gathering up in the ballroom. I figured it’d be best to all get on the same page.” He gave Wingnut an inscrutable look that made Cordelia slightly nervous as he ducked back out the curved metal door which led to the corridor beyond.

“Best be seeing what he wants, Cordelia,” Wingnut said as she followed, taking the young doctor in tow.

The cargo hold was the rearmost room in the Kingship and was far more utilitarian than the other areas of the aethership Cordelia had seen thus far. As she walked behind the captain, she reflected on her new surroundings with cautious optimism. She had been treated very well since she awoke from her fainting spell two evenings ago. The entire crew had made sure she escaped from the clutches of John Corbin and his hired ilk, and she had shuttered to think of what might have happened to her if she had remained in his company. She surmised she might have completed her quest and found Uncle Degory, though not in the manner that would have been helpful. Even after she had awoken, her nerves still had the better of her. The enormous Polynesian man, Afa, had concocted a soothing tea that had helped her sleep soundly till the following morning in the beautiful state room she, Oscar, and her piles of luggage, had been shown to.

They had initially been curious, of course, as to her abductors, the absence of her uncle, and exactly what it was they had been roped into. The captain was polite, and gentlemanly enough to help a lady in distress, but he was understandably concerned for his ship and crew. She had explained the series of adventures that had brought her to the Kingship, again leaving out Uncle Degory’s status as a Stranger, as well as her father, though for more personal reasons. They also had reservations from the start regarding what the elderly pilot had referred to as “that cursed squawk box” and Degory’s plans to install its apparently missing components. The captain said he would need to think about it, and told his pilot to put some distance between them and Sherwood Isle. Corbin’s creepy declaration that they could find them easily enough had become a topic of conversation for the crew. Not having answers to many of their questions, Cordelia had passed the time mostly in the cargo bay, in the greenhouse letting Oscar roam, or learning about the Kingship from Wingnut, who had proudly given her the full tour.

She snapped back to the present as they passed through the corridor into the two story library where they ascended the wrought iron spiral staircase to the deck above. Sun gleamed through a stained glass dome, and cast brilliant, multihued light across the book laden room as they continued out into another red carpeted corridor, even more lavish than the utilitarian crew deck below. Cordelia was continually impressed at the beauty and exquisite design of the Kingship. It seemed as if no detail had been overlooked or lavishly considered in the vessels planning and construction. The history lesson she got from Wingnut had filled in many of the gaps, and she now understood why her uncle had chosen this aethership by name. Near forgotten technology was built into its very framework. Key components had been removed, probably when its active duty was over. These components Degory planned to reinstall, and use to find the Temporal Accelerator. That same equipment could be used to find Degory, and she knew she had to find a way to convince the captain of her urgency, without revealing too much information.

The pilot, Winston, was coming up another, much more grand staircase near the front of the vessel as they approached. “She’s turned into the wind, and the controls are locked down, lad. No sign of any rogue uplands in the distance either.”

“Good,” the captain replied.

“How’s the pressure?” asked Wingnut.

“Looked fine when I left the bridge, lassie. Why?”

“Just making sure, Winston,” she replied. “I’ve been in the cargo bay with Cordelia here, sortin’ through that pile of insanity, don’t ya know. Haven’t been up to the engine room for a bit.”

“I imagine we’ll be fine for a while,” Vance said opening the door to what they called the ballroom for the ladies. “I want to get some things out in the open first.”

The four entered the large, lavish room, and took their seats alongside Cornelius Burd and the large Polynesian at the sizable, dark oak table Cordelia had learned served as the central gathering place for meals and conversation. She was more than a little concerned at the direction this particular conversation would take, knowing Uncle Degory’s future may be at stake. Though still optimistic, the last thing she needed was an interrogation. Scanning each of their faces, the young doctor hoped for a clue as to the crew’s decision, but found none. Burd was assembling a small toy train. The man always seemed to have a toy, or a gun, in his nimble hands. Afa was writing in a large, leather-bound book. He closed it as she sat down and smiled warmly at her.

The captain clasped his hands and leaned forward, “Okay, I’ve been thinking. I’m pretty sure this ship is going to be attacked. As soon as tonight, possibly. I’ve sent a coded Morse to Admiral McMillan, but I haven’t heard back yet. I’d sure like a few British patrol craft flying with us right about now.”

Cordelia looked at him with surprise. She wondered how on earth he had come to that conclusion. Or how he knew an admiral. Or how he thought he could get British military craft to fly with them. Moreover, she was even more surprised to see how calmly the crew reacted. In fact, it seemed Burd was more uncomfortable at the mention of British patrol craft, than at the suggestion of impending violence.

“Captain, if I may,” she asked, “What brings you to that conclusion?”

“Ms. Cady,’ he began, “You have told us your uncle was abducted because of his scientific prowess. He gave you instructions on how to carry out experiments on this ship, and this ship specifically. I’m pretty sure his abductors had eyes on you since you left your apartment. How else would they have intercepted you so quickly upon arrival? Burd was followed because he was throwing the name of Degory Priest around. I’m sure Afa and I were followed too, Burd’s just better at noticing that sort of thing.”

“Hey, it’s what I do,” he replied with his characteristically boyish grin.

“Anyway, these people were quite interested in finding the Kingship.” The captain stood and walked over to the large windows that overlooked the front deck of the vessel. He continued, “The incident with your top hat was unnerving, Ms. Cady. Normally, I would just chalk it up to snake oil intimidation. But we’re dealing with the Brotherhood of the Strange. God knows what they’re up to. Or what they’re capable of.”