Secrets of the New World (Infini Calendar) (Volume 2) (20 page)

However, as soon as the assembled troops noticed them, they trained all their rifles on them.

They threw their hands up. “Take it easy!” Farahilde said.

The men made way for George Washington, who had been watching the airship up close but now confronted his uninvited guests.  He saw Jeanne and was understandably confused. “Mary…Rose?”

“No. My real name is Jeanne de Fleur.”

He looked like he wanted to argue with her, but he simply said, “What on earth possessed you to return here?” he asked them.

“We came to clear our names, sir,” Jeanne said calmly.

“How do you intend to do that?” Washington asked, skeptical.

Jeanne pointed at the airship. “I have little doubt you will find the stolen Gnostagar stones aboard that ship. If someone could just search it…”

Washington shook his head. “At this moment I am at a loss as to what to believe. A supposed Arab just killed several of my men and climbed aboard that airship. Perhaps he is involved with the French delegation. I would very much like to find out, but as you are aware, that vessel is considered foreign soil. We cannot intrude upon it.”

“But
we
can,” Jeanne said, indicating herself and her friends.

“You?” Washington said.

“Yeah. Us,” Farahilde answered.

He didn’t look convinced. “How can I be certain this is not a deception?”

“What have you got to lose?” Farahilde said.

“You might fly away rather than return the stones.”

“Sir,” Jeanne said, “I have a feeling that airship is going to be leaving soon, one way or another.”

He thought about it for a moment, and then said, “They are not likely to simply welcome you aboard.”

Jeanne gripped the handle of her rapier. “We can handle it.”

He looked at them for another few moments. Finally he said, “Very well. However, officially we tried to stop you.”

Jeanne nodded. “Understood.”

“Let them through,” Washington said. The men moved aside, and the four interlopers went up to the airship.

Jeanne turned around and said to Washington and smiled. “For what it’s worth, I was proud to be an American.

“Do not forsake the ideals we stand for,” he said.

“I won’t.”

“And when I return with your stones, you’re going to release my brother,” Farahilde promised.

The four of them climbed up the metal pole the
Minuit Solaire II
was anchored to, and soon dropped onto the airship’s deck.

They headed over to the hatch. Before they could open it, however, someone else did. Abdul Jabbar burst from it, followed by Deschanel and her lackeys. Abdul Jabbar pivoted and turn to slash at his pursuers with his scimitar. The large man called Emil parried the attack with his broadsword.

“Good,” Farahilde said. “They’ve saved us the trouble of coming to get them.”

Abdul Jabbar and the three French knights all turned their attention to the intruders. Abdul Jabbar’s eyes went wide as he realized he was surrounded by enemies.

“What the hell are they doing here?” Emil asked to no one in particular.

“You are on French soil,” Deschanel said to them. She was wielding her own rapier. “Leave here at once or risk a war.”

Farahilde grinned. “You really think I fear a war with France? Who do you think you’re talking to?”

Deschanel gritted her teeth as she realized the utter stupidity of the threat she had just made. But her scowl suddenly turned into a smile as her gaze went past Farahilde—to Jeanne. “Perhaps this is my lucky day after all.” She then said to Abdul Jabbar, “Stand aside.”

He was either desperate or confused, because he complied with her order. He got out of her way and was momentarily forgotten.

Emil and the country bumpkin lackey moved to flank their Commander. “What’s the plan?” Emil asked her.

“Jeanne de Fleur is mine. You two—” Without warning, Abdul Jabbar dove into the hatch. “After him!”

The two subordinates went into the airship in pursuit of the renegade Arab.

“Come on!” Farahilde shouted to Frederick and Pierre.

***

The three of them charged forward. Deschanel casually sidestepped them, allowing them to go into the airship. She never took her eyes off Jeanne.

“You’re not going to stop…?” Jeanne started to ask. “
Déjà vu
.”

“My men will take care of them. Right now I’m more concerned with killing
you
.”

Jeanne said, “Hmph. So you’re just Napoleon’s chienne. I expected more from someone calling herself Jeanne de Fleur.”

“Shut up!” Deschanel roared. “You have no idea how much I
hate you
!”

As far as Jeanne could remember, she had never even met Deschanel until this week. It didn’t make sense for the other woman to have such venomous loathing for her. “What did I ever do to you?”

Deschanel charged at her. “Everything!”

Jeanne parried her strike, but the imposter kept striking at her with unrestrained fury. Jeanne found herself on the defensive, struggling to survive the other woman’s relentless assault.

***

The
Minuit Solaire II
’s operator leapt to his feet as Abdul Jabbar re-entered the bridge followed by Vice-Commander Emil and Lieutenant Jean-Louis, and then by Farahilde, Frederick and Pierre. The operator backed up against the wall to avoid being targeted by the mad Arab and his scimitar.

Abdul Jabbar evidently intended to hijack the airship, though it was doubtful he had any idea how to operate it.

“Halt!” Emil ordered Abdul Jabbar.

The Arab whirled around, a mad look in his eyes. He blade hovered menacingly in front of him. “After you threatened my life? I think not.”

“There ain’t nowhere for you to run,” Jean-Louis said.

“None for you fools, either,” Farahilde added.

The two French knights looked back and forth between Abdul Jabbar and the intruders. They were outnumbered and outflanked. After brief hesitation, Emil said to Abdul Jabbar, “I propose a truce. The three of us should put aside our differences to fight the three of
them
,” he said, indicating Farahilde and company.

“Why should I trust you?” the Arab said, skeptical of the offer. “You’ve already tried to kill me once.”

Jean-Louis said to him, “You think
they’ll
be any nicer to you? You already tried to kill
them
once, remember?”

Abdul Jabbar was silent as he nervously mulled it over.

Suddenly Pierre stepped forward and addressed the two knights. “I have my own proposition.”

Emil looked confused, yet intrigued. “Go on?”

Pierre pointed at Abdul Jabbar. “I’m only interested in him. Let me fight him and you two can fight the people behind me.”

Farahilde watched as Emil weighed his options. It wasn’t a hard decision, really; if he refused, he and Jean-Louis would be caught in the middle of this fight and massacred.

“Very well,” he said.  “But take it into the corridor. I won’t leave the bridge unguarded.”

Pierre smiled, turned around to leave and motioned for Abdul Jabbar to follow him. It wasn’t a hard decision for the Arab, either; going into the hallway would put him much closer to an exit off the airship, and he would have less people trying to kill him that way.

“Uh…can I go, too?” the operator asked. They had barely noticed him.

“Go,” Emil said impatiently. The operator left.

Farahilde readied her bladed gauntlet, and Frederick unsheathed his sword. The knights did the same.

“For the glory of the Emperor,” Emil said.

“Save that shit for someone who cares,” she shot back.

Chapter XIV: Killer’s Fate

The Minuit Solaire II
, Washington, December 13, 1792 (Infini Calendar), 1:40 a.m.

In the hallway of the airship, Pierre and Abdul Jabbar began their battle.

Pierre swung his broadsword at the vile Arab. However, there wasn’t much room in the corridor and so he couldn’t swing as fast as he wanted. As a result, Abdul Jabbar was able to duck the attack. He tried to take advantage of this by slashing at Pierre with his scimitar, but it was caught harmlessly in Pierre’s armored hand. The Arab was caught off-guard, and Pierre capitalized with a punch to the nose. Abdul Jabbar fell backwards to the floor.

“You threatened me, and you threatened the woman I love,” Pierre said. “The former I can forgive. The latter…not so much.”

But Abdul Jabbar suddenly leaped to his feet. Pierre hadn’t been expecting such agility. “I neither need nor desire your forgiveness, insolent one.”

He flew at Pierre, tackling him and bringing them both to the floor. Pierre’s broadsword fell out of his reach, and now Abdul Jabbar was on top of him with his scimitar. He brought it down upon Pierre’s head—his most vulnerable spot—but Pierre managed to get his arm up to block the attack.

Abdul Jabbar kept raining down blows with his blade. Pierre’s irodium armor was incredibly durable, but his arm still felt the fury of his enemy’s attacks. It wouldn’t be long before it was too battered to use.

***

Farahilde swiped at Emil with her bladed gauntlet. Unfortunately, he was wearing the same armor as Pierre, so it, too, was ineffectual.

She aimed for his head but he had clearly been anticipating that. He grabbed her wrist and twisted it. She winced in pain, but he was just getting started. He took hold of her shoulder and threw her into the wall next to the operator’s console. She was able to throw up her hands and protect her head—somewhat—from the impact.

“Farahilde!” Frederick shouted. He was busy with Jean-Louis, but had obviously noticed her predicament.

“Stay focused, you fool!” she yelled back. “I’ve got things under control here.”

Emil gave a derisive chuckle. “Oh? Was it your plan to get embarrassed here? If so—well done.”

She wiped a trickle of blood from her mouth. “Like I said: save it for someone who cares.”

Emil’s smirk vanished. His patience was clearly running out. He strode forward with the obvious intention of shutting her up.

A drop kick to his knee, though, quickly changed things. He fell forward onto the operator’s console. He reached to grab hold of something that could stabilize him, but that something just happened to be the lever that activated the
Minuit Solaire II
’s Emergency Ascension System—a feature that Farahilde herself had personally insisted on for this model of airships.

The deck shook as the vessel’s batteries quickly unloaded their charge into the engines. When this was completed, the airship shot into the air, breaking free of its moorings, and the four combatants dropped to the floor—the laws of physics kicking in.

“Maybe fighting on the bridge wasn’t such a great idea,” she said.