

Steambourne

To my dear Corvin, for sharing your inspiring light

"There is a force more powerful than steam and electricity: the will."

― Fernán Caballero

Chapter 1

The sun's dying rays set the corn ablaze with light. April watched it for as long as she could stand it. Just a trick of the light, she would tell herself, but it was still too reminiscent of the end of the world for her to watch for long. Squeezing her eyes shut to push back unbidden tears, she instead glanced out at her home, her refuge in the Now Times.

The rustic farmhouse, far more intact than many other dwellings, squatted upon a bit of patchy half-dead grass. The walk could use a weeding, as stubborn grass was pushing its way through the stones. They were survivors, just like her. Laying her hand against the wooden window casing, she assumed her home looked like any one of a million Midwestern farmhouses nestled among the fields. Yet it was clear time had taken its toll on the unremarkable structure. Plain boards intermingling with the old, whose paint had seen better days, mismatching shutters that creaked under the wind's ever-growing breath. Large shapes loomed around the house, silent, bathed in shadow, a barn, a greenhouse, and hidden around the side a still, with its copper tubing glinting in the dying light of the sun.

Rubbing her neck wearily, she would be glad to see her own bed tonight. Winter was coming. Harvest time always meant long days and tired limbs. Turning to face the bed of her only child, she snuggled in under the covers.

"Tell me the story again," Sybil pleaded, her eyelids drooping in the anticipation of sleep.

April paused, staring into the gray eyes of her beloved daughter. Some may think that the Armageddon story was too much for an eight-year-old girl. However, in April's mind, Sybil was far from typical and she needed to understand the destructive power of greed.

Glancing out the window at the darkening sky, she sighed softly. The stars were winking on; still so white and perfect, they had borne silent witness to the New World forged in fire and death. Yet they looked so peaceful and bright.

"As you wish my little one," she said, settling on the edge of her bed. Absently running her fingers over the quilt that she had made. It was patchwork, made from the band tee shirts she had traded for over the years to remind her of a much more carefree existence. It seemed a lifetime ago that she has had been standing among a group of her friends shouting out the lyrics to a Flogging Molly song. Shaking her head, she looked down into her daughter's expectant eyes.

Taking a deep breath, she began.

"It began as a single plume, a crimson slash against the inky sky. Just after Christmas in 2020. For some it was distant, a low rumble in the ground or the shattering of windows. For far too many, it was the last thing they ever saw as lives were obliterated in the blink of an eye. The very air caught fire, the inferno ripping apart the land beneath their feet. Once the rain of death began it went on for days, retaliation and revenge mutilating the world.

For three days, each country emptied out their armory using the chaos as free reign to act on old grudges. However, the last bomb was the one that would never be forgotten. Japan had an experimental nuclear warhead, one that was so powerful it eclipsed all others. Where it was intended for, many have speculated, but none will ever know. Loaded aboard a battleship. Not too long after the ship left port, a single S.O.S. was received before Japan was no more. An explosion that reshaped the world as it has always been. The continents broke free of their moorings and the fragments were rammed back together in a formation reminiscent of the original Pangea. All communication ceased. For days and nights chaos reigned, survivors suffered from radiation poisoning. What was left of government structure attempted to assist their people. But there was little that could be done," she explained.

"And then Templar came." Sybil replied, knowing the story word for word.

"Then Templar came, offering hope and supplies. Those who could be saved, were. Refugee camps were forged, and people started to recover the best they could. Within five years the Imperiums began to rise. Leaders stepped up to brave the new world and the countries were once again divided," she continued.

"Into Pendergrass, Vellteri, and Sadovka," Sybil continued for her.

April nodded.

"It became clear that we were not going to be able to establish our old methods of power through fossil fuels. A brilliant man, calling himself Enoch, appeared on the scene, touting the possibilities of going back to steam energy. He pointed out the new vents that had arisen from the earth as the continents had collided. It's clean, and as far as we know, limitless. With the assistance of Templar, it became our new energy, replacing gasoline, coal, and other nonrenewable energies," April said, leaving out the parts about the wars and deaths that were fought over control of the new lifeline.

"Then the lights came back on and people began to thrive again," Sybil quoted.

"I don't know why you ask me to tell you this, my sweet; you know it better than I do," her mother said, kissing her forehead.

"I don't want those who were lost to be forgotten," she replied in a tone far too somber for one so young.

April turned away from her daughter unwilling to let her see the tears in her eyes. She had lost everyone in the blasts. She had been relocated by Templar to a refugee camp in what was once Montana, a long way from her native Ireland. Yet, despite it all, she had a good life here. Working the farm, she had food and was able to help her community. Yet, when the nights were at their darkest, she could not help but think back to the fire in the sky.

Watching her daughter's eyes close, she kissed her ever so softly again. Grabbing a sweater to ward off the chill, she stepped out onto her front porch before settling onto the swing. She glanced over her cornfields, anticipating the harvest, but as with many still moments, her mind began to wander.

The night the world went dark started like any other for April O'Shea. She was polishing the glasses in her family's pub, half eyeing the television. The news these days was grim; which of course, was a boom for the bar business. Countries were at each other's throats over perceived wrongdoings. Debts were being called in that no one could pay, and war threats flew. Given the economic and environmental status of the planet, they were fighting over limited and nearly exhausted resources. Placing the final glass down, she went to turn on the music. The evening's crowd would soon be pouring in and she knew it would be a busy night.

Placing her hand on the jukebox's glass, she frowned as she felt a vibration, subtle at first, as if a large truck had passed by. The moments after that, were to this day were still a jumble as the frosted glass windows rained in on her in one large explosion.

It took nearly two days for her hearing to return to normal. Panic ensued as the bombs began to fall. At first no one on the ground realized that they were under nuclear attack; that it had not been an accident or an isolated test. For three days and nights, the bombs continued, communications went in and out, and news was sporadic. Then it simply stopped. No more plumes of smoke and no more rumblings. People cried in the streets relieved to be alive and that the hell had ended. However, at dawn on New Year's Day, all of that changed. An explosion bigger than the world had ever seen before happened off the coast of Japan. The world literally moved as the massive earthquakes and waves ripped the land masses free before slamming them back together; very much like the story she had just told her daughter. However, she could never bring herself to tell her that there had been more land than what was now present. Whole continents had been destroyed. All lower Africa and South America were simply gone, some say ripped apart, some say sunken in the tidal waves. It was impossible to tell.

Watching the shooting stars, she found it hard to believe that space outside their little planet went on as if nothing had ever happened. It had been only ten years since the entire world changed. It seemed far too short of a period for what had happened. Everywhere you could see remnants of the life that had simply ceased to be. She had used the cabin of a Boeing airplane that the scavengers had brought in to make a greenhouse. She had heard that parts of the Statue of liberty housed people now.

The first year had probably been the hardest. No power and no access to clean water, meds, and food. The lawlessness of a structured society collapsing was frightening. Guns became the new rule makers and more than one person who survived the bombs was gunned down.

April had no idea why she had survived. However, when those poisoned with radiation began to flood her town, she packed what she could into her truck and took off across the strange new world. She had no way of knowing that the continents had become one again and she kept expecting to drive up to the coast, but the land just went on. Sometimes, there were roads. Sometimes not. Gas became harder and harder to come by. She had traded nearly everything she had brought with her for gas and food. She knew she was far better off than most and when her truck finally died just outside a Templar camp in what had once been Ohio, her truck bed was full not of things, but of people looking for survival. She gave the truck to the people of the camp as a peace offering, as they were none too happy to see more sick mouths to feed.

The camps were apparently government run, although no one could really answer as to which government was running them. She had stayed there nearly six months when Templar came through looking for volunteers to go west and work the remaining farmland. Desperate for a chance at some sort of life, she had joined the crew.

Templar was a private company who had assisted the United States government during natural disasters; hurricanes, earthquakes, and such, and had a fair amount of food and supplies, and least of all, guns. It became clear early on that Templar was being well paid to help reconstruct the world, yet no one was terribly sure as to whose pocket they were in. As the Imperiums began to rise, Templar stayed just as it was, and when the wall went up, they continued to pass through the gates unfettered, helping with the continual rebuilding.

Her mind drifted to the construction of the wall. On the sixth anniversary of the blasts in 2026, the three heads came together to try to discuss how to make peace; start over and carve out the vast and mostly uninhabited new world. It did not go as well as many hoped.

Emperor Gregor Kilduff Peregol had been a top official in Russia before the fall and had taken control of the landmass that had been Eurasia. It was a vast territory. It was, by far, the biggest of the three. As luck would have it for him, nearly eighty percent of the non-volcanic steam vents were in Sadovka, so towns popped up all around the vents. Gregor proclaimed himself Emperor early on, working closely with Templar to get the steam production up and running. Rumors swirled around him, his rise to power, and his involvement with the blasts. He expected the rest of the world to fall in under his leadership and was more than a bit put out when Maxwell Harcourt the 3rd, and Philomena Ceratas chose not to acquiesce their lands to him. Boundaries had to be formally declared, due to the Emperor's tyrannical attitude. Maxwell suggested that a great wall be built, closing the Imperiums off from each other.

Given the state of the world, it would have been impossible to put together such an operation. However, always the savior, Templar stepped in with a plan to construct the wall and where to place the nine gates. After some quibbling over lands to be given, an agreement was reached. Even though the Earth had brought all humans together; politics and greed kept them divided.

Her mind drifted to her daughter again. The child would be nine come this October. Her very existence was a miracle, given how early she had been born and the rudimentary hospital she had lived in for nearly the first year.

April had accompanied a group of Templars from the camp to her little Montana town. It had been a long, and at times, dangerous journey. There were still so many sick from radiation and many fighting to survive. It was on that trip that she met Josiah Carter, "hired gun," he called himself. He had been so dashing in his black uniform, with his ever-present chin stubble, and unusual gray eyes. He had started hanging around her campfire as soon as word had spread through the convoy of her cooking skills. Proud to be of use, she had fed so many on that journey, trying to recreate the feeling of togetherness her Father's pub had always had.

Josiah had been one of the few to seek her out to thank her for the work she was doing. That thank you had turned into long traveling days spent talking, and more than a few long nights. Once they reached Hope, Montana, he had gone out of his way to get her settled into a large comfortable farm house and promised her that once everything was more stable, and the town rebuilt, she would get a pub if she would work the farm. She had agreed. They spent several months working on getting Hope established and a very strong relationship formed between them. Or so she had believed it to be very strong.

In her mind he was going to settle in Hope, and they were going to work the farm together, raise a family, and try to have some semblance of a normal life. However, shortly after Christmas, he told her his unit was being sent back to Sadovka to prepare another steam line. She had then, of course, expected promises of his return, and their future. She received none. He had given her a tight hug and said, I'll be back if I can. That was the last time her eyes ever fell upon Josiah Carter.

She had seen Abraham many times over the years, however. He had been Josiah's commander and he always made a point of swinging into Hope to check on her and Sybil when his duties brought him to Pendergrass. At first, she had always asked after Josiah and when he may be coming back. There was always an emergency or a reason for him to be in another Imperium. She knew Abraham was just covering for him, and so, after a while, she had stopped asking. Abraham had been the one to bring her the medicine and help she needed after Sybil's premature birth.

She closed her eyes. That was one of the hardest memories she had, delivering her only child in a makeshift hospital, with a sputtering generator and no equipment to keep her baby warm. It had been October 30th, 2027. The world was still in shambles and the odds were strongly against her. She shook her head once more; it had not been an easy road, but she had been blessed with so much more than many others. Stifling a large yawn, she headed back inside. Dawn came early and she had the town's only dairy cows, so the hands would be in early to help with distribution.

She paused at the base of the stairs to pull a worn photograph from "The Stand," a novel by a man named Stephen King. She had become quite fond of King as a writer; however, "The Stand" was particularly hard for her to read given the current state of life on the planet.

Running her fingers over the face of the only man she had ever loved, she placed it back gently, hoping one day he would be able to see how fierce and graceful their young daughter had become.

Unbeknownst to April, as she climbed into her comfortable bed, her precious daughter had woken. Something in the night had called to her. Looking out the window she saw nothing of interest other than the North Star. She gazed at it a while, searching its twinkle for an answer to what had woken her.

Far away in two very separate, very different worlds, two other little girls, stopped and searched for one, gathering twilight, for the other, the late afternoon sky, for whatever it was that was tugging at their minds. The low beating sound, like hearts beating in unison, filled their minds for a mere moment before they once again found themselves alone.

Sybil fell quickly back to sleep, her mind pulling her into dreams. Lucy stared at the sky a bit longer, wishing for the hundredth time that the sky in Sadovka was less polluted. It made it much harder to find the stars while in the cities.

The chimes reminded Lucy that she had a very short amount of time left to make it to the brass hall for services, and it simply would not do for the daughter of the favored wife to be late, again. Running as fast as she could through the metal fortress, the heels of her boots clanging along with her hurry. Several of the fortress staff saw her and smiled. The child was a character and much loved, by most, for her inquisitive nature. Some saw her as a nuisance and her father, the leader of Sadovka, had truly wished she had been a boy. He knew the girl was wicked smart and he very much believed she had been altered, perhaps as mutation of the radiation. However, he had seen her calm minds and earn the trust of some of the hardest people, himself included.

As the last chime rang, the immense brass doors closed with a thud of finality that made Lucy very glad to be in the pew beside her mother. Asha looked at her only child and fought to keep the smile from her lips. Lucy was a classic beauty; her mocha skin and raven's wing hair reminded her much of herself at that age. Her beautiful gray eyes with their haunting look, was the gift her father had given her.

Asha smoothed her daughter's dress; fashion had become a strange thing as the world was reborn through fire and steam. It was very reminiscent of what was deemed as Victorian, although some would say it was influenced by what Imperium you lived in. In Sadovka, many of the old traditional aristocratic fashions of the Tsars could easily be found. Asha glanced down at her own gown, her Sari was made of the loveliest golden fabric her husband, the emperor, could have had made. He was a lot of things, but he was a true lover of beauty.

Lucy was only eight. Girls of her age wore frocked dresses, simple things to play in, and boots. Everyone in Sadovka, down to the poorest beggar, wore boots. Templar had made them especially for Sadovkins, given that their land was filled with steam, the ground tended to be hot, and in some places, it could be hot enough to burn. So, every year each man, woman, child, and babe were given the Plyar boots. At first, they had all been clunky, black affairs meant only for protection. As time went by, clothiers began to remove the soles and convert them into something more fashionable. It was easy to tell someone's station in Sadovka by the type of boots they wore.

Melodic tones brought Asha's attention back to the front as her Lord and husband strode to the pulpit. Hard blue eyes took in his people. Hundreds of eyes stared back at him. Glancing over their expressions he knew he was little liked, and that fear was what kept him in power. However, Gregor had never been one to care much for the opinions of others as he was deeply convinced of his own superiority.

His hand rose in the air, the paleness of his skin glaring white in the spotlight. A deep, familiar rumbling filled the air as at that moment the enormous brass pipe organ rose to its place on the stage. No matter how many times Lucy saw it, it still captivated her. Some of the polished brass tubes soared over twelve feet high, such care was taken in its polishing that you could see the entire crowd perfectly reflected in its face. The keys were made of ivory, a mineral no longer available. Each key had been tipped in gold; the emperor was a man of extravagance. Those closest to the stage could slightly detect the bubbling of the heated tank just below the organ that gave it all its power. Gregor had gone so far as to have the steam colored as it came through the pipes. Depending on the note, gold, or burgundy steam filled the air. He called her the Heart of Sadovka and he was the only man permitted to touch the keys.

Staring at the crowd again for a long moment, he turned his back on them to walk to the organ. His back was perfectly straight, his posture as unyielding as his iron grip upon the people.

Lucy closed her eyes as the steam fueled sonata rang through the chapel. It truly was her most favorite sound and she looked forward to Sunday evening services so that she could hear it. Letting her mind drift away with the hymn, she was lost to the physical world around her.

The tune reaches far, it floats upon an invisible tether whose existence is unknown. Ching Carter opens her eyes and flinches as her mother pulls her waist-length hair into a braid. She searches for the source of the strange sound, but her ears are met only with the sound of drunken men arguing in the street. Somewhere a gunshot sounded, and the strains of the melody vanished from her head.

She looked up into her mother's inquisitive eyes.

"Everything alright, my little lotus?" she asked.

Ching nodded.

"I thought for a moment I heard music. Probably just a daydream," she said, wishing her mother would hurry with her hair.

After a few more minutes, her mother granted her reprieve.

"I need you to go find Constantine," her mother said with a look that meant she knew exactly where he was and by not letting on, she allowed them to continue to have their secret base.

Ching smiled.

"Yes Abba," she said, kissing her mother's cheek before slipping out the front door, towards the coast.

Given the state of the world, most parents would never allow an eight-year-old girl alone on the streets, especially near dark. However, Ching Carter was no ordinary girl and both her mother Jia Carter, and her father Josiah knew it.

The worn photograph on the wall caught her eye. It was their wedding photo. Just one year before the blasts, Josiah Carter had stridden into the laboratory in Beijing where she was consulting.

A small squeak and soft thud accompanied her rocking as she allowed herself to drift back to a far simpler time. Early on she had shown a gift for chemistry. Her father had been a fisherman, his entire life he had lived just below comfortably, and he wanted so much more for his only child. So, he had saved and taken on extra jobs to send her from their poor village to a University in England. She had excelled, graduating top of her class in chemistry and genetics. Heading back home, she was employed immediately by the government, tasked with a special project on radiation effects on the unborn in Beijing. Templar was the building's security force and after that chance encounter, the pair had been inseparable, married merely a month before the blasts, they had such plans for the future and their family.

The shadows grew around her feet, forcing her mind back to the present. Soon, her daughter and Constantine would be home, and they would be hungry. Moving quickly, she began to assemble dinner for the three of them. Josiah was in Sadovka and would not be home till mid-week. Most nights it was just the three of them in their makeshift family. Josiah thought it wise they did not try for another child given the mutations that were being seen. Jia's best friend at University had been Emma Fairweather; she had married the grand duke of something or other shortly after graduation. Constantine was their only child. Emma had joined Jia at the facility in Beijing.

She had told both Constantine and Ching that Emma and the Duke had been killed in an explosion in a steam facility nearly two years ago. However, she suspected Ching knew a lot more about the truth than she had ever let on. She was fiercely protective of Constantine and the pair had been inseparable. Ching often referred to him as her shadow and he would just smile. Constantine was a slight boy. British aristocracy was evident in his aquiline nose and cultured demeanor.

Hearing more gunshots in the distance, she cringed knowing that her children would be coming up through the tunnel system and hoped that they picked the correct grate. She knew she should not even let them go out; however, an attempt at keeping them caged had proven a miserable situation for all.

They were careful and smart, but Vellteri was a savage place. The Imperium center was in what had once been one of the most culturally enlightened places in the world. Josiah had moved them to Rome when China had become little more than a war zone. Wanting to keep his wife and his daughter safe, he had come to love Constantine as well and had no problem taking the boy along with them.

Many of the old monuments were abandoned now or used as markets and meeting places. Many considered them to be haunted as very few of the cities' original residents had survived a biological warhead that had been dropped on a United Nations summit. Three fourths of the world's leaders had been present and were unable to leave when the nuclear bombs started falling, so they were sitting ducks. No one was sure, given the lack of survivors, what exactly the toxin had been, as it killed within a few days.

Templar had done a sterilization of the city once the bombs had stopped falling and made the city their headquarters. They had appropriated what had once been Vatican City and its appearance lent credence to the might of Templar. There was no visible damage to the buildings and if viewed from above it would be hard to believe it housed hundreds of fighters.

Jia, while not Catholic by belief, felt uncomfortable knowing that one of the world's holiest places has been replaced by guns and greed. To be fair, Templar had done a great deal of good, yet it felt so odd to see a man dressed in tactical blacks sitting on the throne of the man of God.

Shaking her head, she pulled herself from the thoughts as she heard running footsteps approaching the back door. She frowned slightly; trouble must be bad in the streets tonight if they were coming up the back. The rats hung out in the back alleys and for all Ching's remarkable qualities and bravery, the child abhorred rats.

A sudden crash shook their little wooden house as the door swung inward with a crash. Jia jumped to her feet seeing her daughters freshly braided hair pulled asunder. Her face was smudged with dirt, blood streaked her hands. She shoved Constantine in quickly, shutting the door and placing a chair up against it.

Jia assessed the children and knew immediately it was not her own blood on her child's hand. Constantine was laying crumpled across the settee, holding his right arm tight against his chest. His white linen shirt was soaked with blood. Rushing to him, she knelt at his side as Ching raced to get the medical kit without instruction.

She looked into the boy's eyes. He was pale by nature, but his skin and glazed eyes spoke of blood loss and shock. Leaning him back gently, she pulled the shirt up to revel a ragged six-inch cut running from his collar bone to just above his belly button. His breathing was labored but she saw no evidence that the lung had been punctured, which would likely be what would save him.

Ching reappeared with her father's medical bag. Given its size and weight, she had drug it and her face was red with exertion and fear. She knelt beside her mother, unable to keep the tears from streaming down her face.

Jia wanted to take the time to comfort her daughter, but it would have to wait. While in and of itself the injury was not fatal, infection carried a big risk these days. Not to mention it was not at all uncommon for weapons to be dipped in poison.

Pulling out the needed supplies she began work, cleaning and stitching the wound.

"I want to know what happened. Before you tell me, go to the underground depository and get me one bag of pseudo blood and two bags of fluids," Jia said.

Ching's eyes widened as she rushed off. Mother must be very worried if she was willing to pull out the bio supplies, as they were very precious and hard to replace.

Moving quickly, she navigated the steps into the tunnel system with the practiced grace of a cat. This was her way out into Vellteri, and she had traveled this way more often than the surface routes.

As her feet hit the cool stone it took less than a few seconds for her eyes to adjust to the near pitch black that made up their tunnel storage. Her father had used his resources and knowledge to build them a fallout shelter in the old Rome Metro station. Given the many levels of Rome that existed before the blasts, the underground was a catacomb. Some people lived in the tunnels and never saw the light of day.

Josiah has chosen this house partially due to the fact that he could tap into the metro system underneath, giving his family not only a hiding place from looters, but an escape route if needed.

Moving to the cold storage, she grabbed the bags, pausing only to also grab a chocolate bar from the holiday stash. Constantine had a weakness for chocolate, and she wanted so much to see him smile.

Rushing back up the ladder, she was back at her mother's side in less than three minutes. With experience that should not be had by a child her age, she hung the bags and started an IV in the frighteningly cold arm of her shadow.

Collapsing onto the floor beside her mother, she held the chocolate hopping to see his pale blue eyes flutter open.

Jia glanced at her child, saw the chocolate bar clutched in her hands, and smiled softly. Ching had a big heart and would do anything for her brother. It mattered not at all to her that they were not blood. She loved Constantine fiercely and Jia feared for the person responsible for his injury as Ching had a terrifying temper.

"Do not fret little lotus, your shadow will be okay. This is quite a wound though . . .. Care to tell me what happened?" Jia asked, glancing at her daughter's tear streaked face as she pieced the jagged pieces of his flesh back together the best she could.

"Wheelers," Ching said, her voice hard as stone.

Jia opened her mouth, her face filed with anger.

"Before you explode Abba, we were not in the coliseum. They came into the Pantheon," Ching added.

Jia shook her head. She would have to speak with Josiah about this. Wheelers were less human than most. Major parts of their bodies had been augmented, or in some cases, replaced, with clockwork mechanisms. Most notable was their feet. Large wheels had been surgically grafted onto the bottoms of them allowing them to roll instead of walk. They called it "embracing our future and augmenting human skills." Jia viewed it more as psychological damage and the need to rebel against the rules put in place on human augmentation.

They had taken over the Coliseum, or what was left of it. The huge earthquakes that had rocked the planet after the Japanese disaster had collapsed quite a few of the ancient structures. Luckily, the Italian government had done a large amount of work on restoration and preservation some five years before the blasts; otherwise, they may have been completely obliterated. She knew for a fact that the great wall of China had not fared nearly as well.

Due to the fact that their very existence was against several laws, the Wheelers often stayed inside and rarely came out during active hours.

"Before you ask, I don't know what on earth they were doing in the Pantheon and I have no idea why they cut Constantine. I went to fetch him, and I showed up just as they were leaving. The big ugly one with the wired eye had a knife in his hand and blood all over him. I rushed in to find Constantine at the feet of the statue of Zeus. I was able to get him into the back streets and I carried him home as fast as I could," she recounted the story, her chin slightly wobbling, which threatened tears she took deep breaths to try to avoid them spilling down her cheeks again.

"Well the good news is: Wheelers are rarely known to have poison. So that's one less thing we need to worry about. The knife was sharp, which is also a good thing as it is a clean incision. One of his ribs has been nicked but other than a wicked scar, I don't think we will see any lasting effects from this," Jia said as she tapped the last bandage in place. Running her fingers through the boy's sandy blonde hair, she was relieved to see his eyes flutter ever so slightly.

"Go get his blanket and pillow. I don't want to move him around too much and he needs rest," she said, waiting until her daughter was out of sight to remove the dozens of blood-soaked bandages and rags from her lap.

The boy had been lucky.
Chapter 2

Years passed like sand grains through the hourglass of life. Each year brought new changes; some big, some small. Three unique, gifted children grew into amazing young women, each was so different, yet all were tied together.

Sybil rolled her eyes as she settled among the busted crates, she had liberated from the Sadovkan supply train. Muttering she tossed an enormous stack of flyers back into the crate.

"Come celebrate our wonderful world," she mimicked in a rather nasal Sadovkian accent.

"You sound irritated, my benevolent Captain," a voice said from inside the hold of her ship.

"Of course, I'm irritated Violet; I was really hoping for some meds for the resistance. Instead, all I get is ten boxes of fliers for the Grand Carnival to celebrate the last 15 years of Imperium rule!" she replied with a swift kick to another box.

Orion chirped from inside her coat pocket as her movement had startled him.

"Sorry little one," she said softly, slipping her hand into her oversized coat pocket to stroke his soft fur.

Peeking into her pocket she was pleased to see him settle back into his little nest. Most rodents were considered pests; however, she had found him half-dead inside a storage facility she was liberating and had fallen in love. She found out later that he was a Stoat. She couldn't find anyone who knew much about them. So much of the natural knowledge about the world had been lost in the upheaval. The closest she could come was a ferret and they seemed much less pleasant.

Stroking his white fur, she let her fingers rest on the small star shaped patch of bluish fur on his forehead. It had inspired her to name him after her favorite constellation. Other than Violet, Orion was her only friend.

Violet reappeared above deck, carrying the last of the crates which she strained to carry gently. There was a chance that it was not more of the same crap and any loss of supplies would be felt in the resistance camps.

Wiping the grime off her golden almond face with an already caked sleeve, she regarded Sybil.

Her face was set in a deep frown that Violet had come to know was an expression of worry, rather than a scowl; but it was frightening, nonetheless. Despite Sybil's pixyish stature, she still towered over most at her nearly six feet tall. She was one of the most feared air pirates in all the three realms. Her hair, which at this moment, was cut short and styled up in spikes, shone a red gold in the sunlight sneaking through the slats of the barn.

"I'm sorry Sy, we will do better next time, perhaps we should stake out that new Vellterian run, the one that prisoner we rescued told us about. I know that means we run the risk of being in the Mengelan 's territory, but that old quack is no match for you as you have already shown," Violet replied, referring of course to the deep half-moon scar around Sybil right eye.

The Mengelan had captured them on a run into Vellteri and had planned to harvest her unique gray eyes for one of his far viewer machines. Out of all the people to be feared in their new world, "the Mengelan" was probably the biggest boogeyman of them all. He was Emperor Gregor's twin, his real name was Krieger, but it was rarely used.

Sanctioned by the heads of all three Imperiums, he was given the right to use criminals and degenerates in his experiments. He had once been the pioneer of human augmentation; however, after many failed experiments and given the damage that hybrids could do, the research was banned. His work changed, he became fascinated with the mutations that had arisen since the blast, and he began scavenging the countryside for people he felt to possess anomalies. Given his government connections, those people would be declared criminals or insane, and he would be given free range to do with them what he wished.

Sybil being one of the five people who dared to risk sky travel, as it was strictly forbidden, made her a criminal in all three realms; so, he had been given free range when they were captured.

Her fingers ran over the scar. She remembered the moment far more vividly then she would like to. How bright the lights were, how white Krieger's outfit had been. The sharp bite of the metal as his oculus tool pressed against her flesh. Shaking her head, she looked at her best friend.

Violet was shorter than her by a good four inches. She was what Sybil considered to be "classically beautiful". She reminded her of the Greek beauties in the history books. She had been lucky once and raided a supply train that had, had actual physically bound books. She had given them to the schools in Pendergrass to teach from. One of them had been a book on the classics. Violet reminded her of Aphrodite, except of course, for her long, royal purple hair. She insisted that pirates could not have mousey brown hair and that since her name was Violet, it was obviously a sign.

"I'm afraid you may be right. Now don't think for a minute that I am afraid of Krieger, I just get weird dreams when we cross into Vellteri and that place is constantly under pressure of violent revolution," she replied, opening another crate only to find linen tablecloths.

Violet nodded, not pointing out that Sybil got the same weird dreams when they crossed into Sadovka. Given her already foul mood, there was no point pushing her.

"Looks like we got some of their decorations as well as flyers," she said as she pulled out stacks of tablecloths. There were two in each Imperiums colors. They were most likely for the head muckity muck's tables.

"I'm pretty sure Marino can used them for blankets or bandages or something," Violet said, plopping down onto an unopened crate.

"Yeah," she replied, her entire body showing her disappointment.

"I'm going to give the Valkyrie a going over. I really felt a lapse in the second steam engine; it came on a whole thirteen seconds after the first," she said, and without another word, she was up over the side and headed down into the bowels of her beloved ship.

Violet watched her go. The nights were harder for her, she knew that Sy had yet to come to terms with her mother's death. Not that anyone could blame her. April had survived so much and had protected Sybil and allowed her to build the Valkyrie and fly.

Yet the dangers of the new world were plenty. Viral infections were still a major worry in Pendergrass, and it was said that one who contracted them could have breakfast with friends and dinner with their ancestors. April had done just that.

Complaining of a headache and a stiff neck just after breakfast, she headed into the Templar medical facility. That evening, just before sundown, Abraham had come out to the farm to inform Sybil of April's passing. He stayed on with them for a few days. Violet never quite knew Abraham 's connection to her and April; but he had always been around, longer than Violet, even, and she had been here for nearly five years. He had promised to make sure that she kept the farm and that the people of the town kept up the harvest and trade deals.

There was no way he did not know about the ship and Sybil's extracurricular activities; however, he never brought them up, nor did he turn her in. The next couple of months had seen them going on more raids than they had ever attempted. Violet suspected Sy did not want to be home alone without April, so she just went along, keeping her promise to Abraham to try to keep Sy from getting killed.

Violet heard a hiss of steam and a few choice words echoing from the ship's engine room. Sybil had built the Valkyrie from scratch, using her own design and parts the scavengers brought it.

Taking a moment, Violet looked over the ship she considered to be her second home. The boat part was made of brass, carefully hammered together in the style of the Before Times ships. Sybil had been given a copy of Peter Pan for her birthday and she had derived the design from the description of Captain Hook's ship. The ship would be considered a toss-up between a Spanish Galleon and a Clipper ship.

The masts were made of wood, or at least they appeared to be. Violet knew that inside each towering staff were vacuum tubes that sucked the air in to feed the steam brewing thing Sybil had built. She was a little iffy on the actual science behind it, or really, how it was that she lifted this massive hunk of metal into the air, much less made it do the things it did. However, she never once worried about it falling from the sky. Sybil was some sort of freaky genius and if she said it was safe . . . it was safe.

Standing up, she dusted herself off and headed for the house. No matter what kind of mad scientific prodigy Sy may be, she was just about the worst cook in all of Pendergrass.

"I'm going to save us from gut rot, and not let you make dinner tonight," Violet shouted down.

She smiled as the expected volley of grunts and return insults wafted up from the ship. Sy had saved her life. Their friendship was based majorly on the ability to be mean as hell to each other and still fight back to back. To Violet it was perfect.

Tripping over a stack of flyers, she watched them slide off and flutter around in the slight breeze before heading inside.

********************************************

The flyer came down on her desk. Lucy looked up at her mother an eyebrow raised.

"Is this the part where you tell me, as the daughter of the great and powerful commandant, I must be in attendance in some gaudy overdone gown and stand on the stage and shake the hands of a number of shriveled up diplomats and appear to be having the time of my life?" she asked, locking her mother's gaze with her own, allowing her to slip the note she had been writing unseen into her lap.

Asha opened her mouth then smiled.

"Well, yes, that was pretty much exactly what I was going to say, although I think you have added a few more adjectives then I was planning to," she looked over her daughter. She had grown so much, thick raven curls hung well past her shoulders, the soft light showing off her mocha skin. So much like her mother, which thankfully had pleased her husband. It kept awkward questions at bay. The cool gray lake of her daughter's eyes lulled her. She would never admit it, but sometimes Lucy scared her. She had a way of getting people to agree with her that bordered on spooky.

"I also come with words of caution. I know about your plans for this evening," she held up a hand as the girl's face flushed red with anger.

"I was not spying on you; however, I saw you two together. I have no problem with the relationship you have with Lilia; however, she is an Acolyte of the Devil's Maw. Not to mention how our Leader feels about "abhorrent behavior'," she said with a roll of her eyes to make a statement on how she felt about that.

"Why don't you ever call him my father?" Lucy asked.

Asha's mouth dropped open. For a moment her ever present calm demeanor was shattered and Lucy knew she had genuinely shocked her mother.

Asha glanced around her mouth, twitching nervously.

"He is our Lord and Leader," she said and walked away.

While Lucy had been genuinely curious, it had just been a tactic to get rid of her mother. She was in no mood to be lectured about her 'abhorrent behavior' with one of the highest-ranking acolytes of the new world religion.

She and Lila had been together for nearly two years. Slipping the note from her lap, she finished the meeting time and place in a code she had developed to keep the many nosey courtiers from discovering her business. The Lord and Leader had many children; however, Lucy was one of the oldest and closest in line for succession, with only her older sister Madelyn before her. Such, she was often the target of prying eyes.

Whistling softly, she waited for Kyros, her owl, to come swooping in. She had no need to be loud. As hard as it was to explain, she shared a bond with her pet that brought him to her whenever she called, no matter how softly.

Leaning back in her chair she heard the soft sound of wings. Sitting up, she instantly knew something was wrong.

The chair's echo bounced off the walls as she knocked her chair over.

Kyros flew haphazardly, one wing clearly broken. Moving quickly, she caught him as he fell swiftly towards the cold hard marble.

"Medici!" she screamed, knowing that her ladies in waiting were never far enough away for her to have any real privacy, and right now they could be useful in getting her a medic.

The doors to her room swung open, hurried footsteps pattering across the floor to see what had caused so much distress. Wrapping him in her skirt she held him close. Blood soaked his soft brown and tawny wing, the pale blue hues in his wings, and on the crest of his head, a sign of mutated status. His ebony eyes blinked slowly as he tried to lock on to her gaze.

Within moments the Medici was rushing in with his bag. He frowned when he saw it was not the Prinsessa in need of medical help, but her bird.

"My lady, I, I am not so good with animals," he said, spreading his hands in defense.

"I don't give a good Gorram what you think you are good with. You stabilize him, and you, you go get Mardrich from the stables," she shouted at one of the useless ladies gawking around her.

She disappeared as if the devil himself were on her tail, which was not far from the truth. Lucy possessed a wicked temper and she was known to unleash it at will. Which, in theory, should have hurt her reputation as a diplomat and future leader, yet it only served to make her more popular. Sadovka was a strange place.

The Medici did his best to relieve the animal's pain as it had begun crying piteously as it tried to burrow into her mistress's bosom.

Lucy's eyes flicked from the dilated pupils of her truest friend to the door, waiting impatiently for the hunched limping figure of Mardrich, the Master of Animals, to come. He was the one who had given Kyros to her. A clutch of mutated barn owls had been ravaged by predators. There were so few left, given the elevated temperatures in most of Sadovka. So, when he had discovered one egg intact, he had brought it to the Prinsessa. She had been following him around since she could walk, and he had no doubt she would care for the chick if it survived. For nearly twenty days she had sat beside the nest, day and night. Her mother had, had it moved into her bed chambers. Their lord had been concerned, as all the birds left in the territory has become mutated, and one never knew what was going to come out of the egg. Madame Berlinski had made a tidy fortune touting the unfortunate mutant animals around the realms in her side show.

She had gone so far as to drop a calling card at the palace doors saying that she would take the mutant animal if it survived. Lucy, even at the tender age of six, had known that Madame's side show was a horrible place full of mistreated animals. Her mother had resisted Lucy's insistence that the woman be jailed and had promised her that if the owl survived it could stay at the palace.

As luck would have it, Kyros hatched on the Prinsessa's 7th birthday. She was not present at her own lavish party as she was feeding worms to her tiny friend. The owl had instantly imprinted on her and they were inseparable from that day on.

The door sung open as Mardrich hobbled in as fast as his lame leg would allow him to go. Seeing the tears on Lucy's face and the blood staining her golden gown, he frowned deeply.

"Out. All of you," he said, dismissing the Medici who looked grateful to be relieved of the responsibility to the animal.

Lucy, who could no longer contain her sobs, offered up the wounded animal to the man she viewed as a father.

"I-I don't know . . . what, hap-happened," she choked out through her tears.

"I, uh . . . whistled, and he, just . . .," she tried to explain but was unable to navigate her words through the sobs wracking her body.

"Shhh now, Princessa, I'm sure it's nothing. Let me have a look see," he said, his gravelly voice comforting her.

Gently he lifted the limp bird from her arms, trying not to allow his expression to betray his fear. Lucy was as sharp as a tack and she would know instantly.

Gnarled, calloused hands pushed gently through the bird's soft feathers, feeling for a heartbeat. A small sigh escaped his lips when he found one. It was faint, but still palpable.

Laying the bird down ever so gently on a cushion one of the ladies had brought, he examined the wound. The bird had been shot, and at close range. There was scalding of the skin where the steam blast had pushed the bullet through the wing. The damage, while not life threatening, may seriously have impaired the bird's ability to fly, he thought.

"Worry not my Princessa, he will live," he said, watching Lucy's sobs slow, her sharp gray eyes searching his face.

"But?" she asked.

The old man fought the urge to smile. There was never hiding anything from this child. She is not a child any longer, his mind reminded him although he would always see her as the precocious child he had come to love so much.

"But he may never fly again," he said opening his medical bag. It was old, from the Before Times, made of cracked brown leather, with almost more patches then there was original material. It had been in his family for generations. His great grandfather had been a veterinarian and it had been passed down to him.

Lucy inhaled deeply and closed her eyes. Her perfectly blank expression was one Mardrich knew all too well. She was controlling her rage, something that he had helped her with over the years. Her temper was truly her biggest issue and taming it had been a Herculean task for her.

A few moments passed. He watched her out of the corner of his eye as he dressed the bird's wounds.

Her eyes snapped open; they were now clear. Anger had burned away any tears.

"What happened?" she asked, her words were crisp and clipped. He knew that her rage bubbled just under the surface.

"I can't be cert-," he began.

"Yes, you can, and are. What happened to him?" she said again. This time it was not a question.

"He's been shot," he replied, thinking perhaps he should have had the Medici send up the sedative tea.

"Shot. As in someone, pointed a steam gun, at my love and shot him," she said, folding her hands in her lap.

She had her diplomatic face on; however, he knew whoever was responsible was very likely going to end up in the prison, if they were lucky and didn't end up in a hole.

"It appears so; it was a close-range shot. It could have been an accident, I mean perhaps he was perched in the fighter's yard, you know . . . he likes to go down and socialize with the hawks. Perhaps someone was cleaning their weapon and it discharged," he said, praying that this was truly a possibility.

Lucy said nothing. A single eyebrow arched nearly to her hairline as the only response given to his rather outlandish scenario.

He finished the dressing and gave the bird a shot of antibiotic and wrapped him in a blanket.

"Little one, I know you are angry, as you should be, and there is no way this should have happened to your owl; however, there is nothing you can do right now. Right now, he needs you to take him back to your chambers, I'll have an aviary bed sent up and we will get him settled. Once he is stable, we can start figuring out what happened," he said, hoping he had time to talk to Asha. She could help keep Lucy from flogging someone.

Her note to Lila completely forgotten, she cradled the bird in her arms and walked slowly towards her room. Mardrich headed out the opposite way, glad to be passing Asha's office on his way to the Aviary.

His discordant steps echoed off the stone halls. He hated coming up into the palace. Luckily for him, the Emperor was an avid hunter and in order to have anything to hunt he had to preserve the animal species that had survived the blasts. Many did survive, although he had not found any larger animals that did not show mutations. Sometimes it was simply coloring or markings, sometimes an animal's entire physiology had been changed. He had been in his early forties when the world had changed, and he remembered the Before Times very well. There were late nights when he would have killed for some television and KFC. However, so many things had not survived into the new worlds. The world was no longer a disposable society. More care was taken with the environment and while steam had a few drawbacks, it was free from lingering radiation and limitless. So, in a way, things were better, but in many ways they were not.

Hearing harsh voices inside the Contessa's chambers brought him out of his musings. He cared little for courtly gossip, but he cared very much for Lucy and her safety.

"I don't care Asha, I told you, she can't know. It's not time yet" the man's baritone voice spilled out into the hall.

"She's asking Abraham, she's nineteen years old, she had a right to know why she is the way she is." Asha replied her voice quieter but just as sharp.

"Let me talk to Josiah, please give me just a little bit more time." The man whom he assumed was Abraham said.

Mardrich decided he did not want this conversation going on where any of the busybodies at court could hear it, rapped his knuckles hard against the heavy door.

He heard quick shuffling footsteps and the side door open and close before Asha called out.

"Come in"

Mardrich stepped in noting the distress on her face, and she the worry on his.

"Before you ask me why I am here I'm going to advise you to have sensitive conversations with your door closed," he said watching the blood drain from her face.

"That being said, I have no desire to know who or what is going on, we have an immediate issue and I'm going to need you and probably the Medici's 'Lucy' tea."

Asha's eyebrows rose.

The Medici made a special sedative tea it was originally made for those dying of radiation poisoning to calm them through the transition. However, it had become a remedy for those with nervous conditions and in the palace during Lucy's teen years it had been renamed "Lucy" tea as it had been a rather tumultuous period for her.

"What happened?"

"Someone shot Kyros" he said.

Asha's hand flew to her mouth, the chair rocking precariously behind her as she stood.

"Is he dead?" Asha fought the urge to rush to her daughter's side. Despite her misgivings about giving a child a bird of prey she knew that part of Lucy's heart flew around in that feathered body. She must be devastated.

"Thankfully no, he was shot at close range, but the wing took most of the brunt, he will live but may never fly again. As you can imagine Lucy is fit to be tied and I'm going to suggest we start an investigation before she does", He said letting the unspoken meaning hang in the air.

Lucy had a way about her, despite all her bluster and rebellion, she really could convince people to do things, to tell her things, it was almost scary what she could accomplish if she put her mind to it.

Asha nodded.

"Any idea who shot him?" she asked.

"I did not reveal this to the Princessa, but I'm nearly certain the blast came from an Acolyte's weapon. They are the only ones to use the pure steam guns anymore and with the burn marks I would lay Krovnar on the guilt of one of them," he said.

"Not one of them. Nakari. He hates Lucy, he does not out her for fear of the wrath extending to Lila, but this is his way of retaliating against their relationship."

"I would love to say that the young priest had nothing to do with this. The Devil's Maw has very strict rules on the lives of innocents. However, I would not be at all surprised if he didn't pull the trigger himself, he had one of his subordinates do it." Mardrich agreed.

"Gorram." Asha muttered.

"I'm going down to the aviary to have a bed sent up to her chambers, I will come back up and check on them after prayers, I will see what I can find out, Markov sent an Acolyte to apprentice under me so he could care for the Maw's animals. He's a decent fella, so here's to hoping for some answers," he said, the weariness settling into his bones. This entire thing was going to be most unpleasant.

"I'm going to Lucy. I will get the tea started. I'm sure it is all over the palace by now, yet let's try to keep the details and suspicions to ourselves. I would prefer if the Emperor did not get wind of this. With the realm celebration coming he's quite busy, on top of being enraged at the air pirates stealing party supplies," she said heading to the door.

Pausing she placed a hand on Mardrich's shoulder; he had been so good to her when she arrived here, a scared child in one of the most dangerous places in all the Imperiums. He loved Lucy and for that she was grateful.

"Thank you," she said with a gentle squeeze.

The old man nodded in reply, his leathery skin stretching into a smile.

Despite the new religions, Mardrich still followed his Catholic upbringing. The good Lord had placed him here for a reason and he truly believed it was to take care of this child. She was special and she had a destiny, he could feel it.

The two separated in the hall, unaware of the hateful gaze following them.

*****************************************************************

Ching carefully folded the flyer into a paper airplane. She was bored, and tired of waiting. Patience had never been on the top of her virtue list. Jia had been summoned via special messenger to the Templar headquarters in the Vatican and while she could not get inside, there was no way Ching was not going to wait at the gate for her mother's return. Stacks upon stacks of flyers for the realm anniversary party sat outside the gates, waiting for the runners to start their deliveries. She doubted many of the Vellteri residents would be making the trek to Sadovka for the party. Out of all the realms Vellteri was by far the most primitive; unless, of course, you lived inside Vatican City. Templar had built themselves a police state and it was well-stocked, well-funded, and very hard to get into. Unless of course you had a red card. No one liked getting red cards. Being summoned into Templar HQ was a sign of punishment.

Contessa Victoria Keyes Stonechat, who ruled Vellteri, gave Templar free reign to do as they liked if they helped her keep up her personal army. Which, if you listened to the drunken machismo that was flung around the bars at night, was the only reason she ruled this realm, being that she was a mere woman.

Finishing her airplane, she sent it flying towards one of the guards, stifling a laugh as it stuck itself into his hat.

"Sorry!" she said, unable to keep the smile from her face.

He rolled his eyes, glancing at her, although he knew her face well. Ching Carter was on every watch list Templar had, she was a genius and she had turned down offers from both Templar and the Contessa to work on their projects. She instead liked to create illegal pharmaceuticals and chemical concoctions mostly out of the plants she could scavenge. Medicines were her biggest business, although it was rumored, she also produced performance enhancing drugs for the resistance soldiers. Unfortunately, no one was ever able to catch her in the act and her customers needed and respected her way too much to rat her out.

He glanced around looking uninterested, but he was really looking for her shadow, Constantine. While no genius, he was brilliant in his own right and was amazing with logistics. Templar had a full file on both.

A resounding screech announced the opening of the large metal gate, its ancient bottom scraping a familiar path over the worn stones.

Ching jumped up and rushed to a flustered looking Jia. She knew better than to ask her questions in front of the guards, so she shot them a glare. Slipping a protective arm around her mother, they hurried away from what had once been the seat of hope for the world.

No words were spoken until they were safely back inside their home.

"That man is a pompous, arrogant Gorram idiot," Jia explained once the doors were locked and Ching had made sure they had not been followed.

"I'm going to guess you're not talking about dad, this time" Ching said with a half-smile.

Her attempt to lighten the mood went unnoticed by her fuming mother.

"He thinks he can just command me to work on whatever nonsense project he wants because my husband is his employee," she said, tossing the red card of summons into the fire.

"Calling me to his office like some kind of common criminal . . .," she continued, beginning to pace.

Well-worn tracks in the carpet attested to her use of this action.

"He is indeed a unevo," Ching said.

"Normally, I would correct you for swearing, but in this case you are right."

"I'll be dammed if I'm going to help them create biological weapons. I bet the Contessa would like to know what he's cooking up in his secret laboratories. She has none of the control she thinks she has. I swear when your father gets home from Sadovka, I'm going to suggest we move. I hear Pendergrass, while rustic, is far more stable."

"And dull," Ching added, peeling an apple with her knife.

"We are moving to the rolling plains of boredom?" Constantine said, his head popping up into the conversation from the tunnel door in the floor.

"You need to make more noise, boy child," Jia said, clearly startled by his sudden appearance.

"Aw come on Abba, shadows don't make noise, and I will remind you, I turn twenty on the feast day. So not really a child," he replied, jumping smoothly from the ladder to land silently on his feet beside Ching.

Jia looked at the two of them and could not help but smile. Life had been hard since the blasts, yet she had found such joy in raising theses remarkable children.

"Old unevo, wants her to work on biological warfare for the Templar gods," Ching said.

The smile fell from his face as he looked between the two women whom he loved more than life.

"You, of course, said no. Are you going to tell the Contessa?" he asked.

"I should; however, your father works for that man. Before I go creating waves, I want us all to be somewhere outside his reach," Jia replied.

"I thought all forms of chemistry, and especially weaponizing it, was banned in the realms treaty," Constantine said.

They all knew it was, which is why what Ching did was so dangerous. Not that she was making weapons, but she was using chemistry to make medications for people that Templar would not help. They had a monopoly on the supplies, and it was only given to those who could pay, either in Krovnars or with political favors. So, the poor often went without basic antibiotics and vaccinations against diseases that has become prevalent once again after the basic immunizations had stopped being given.

"You know what? I think we should go to Sadovka for the celebration," Ching said, producing a flyer from one of her many pockets. She favored cargo pants in her line of work, where being able to grab things and run was necessary.

A look passed between Constantine and her mother of pure shock. Ching was a rebel; she supplied the poor and had never had a kind word for the Imperiums.

"Hear me out. We need to get out of here, at least until Markov finds someone else for his project. I could never leave the citizens forever, yet we do better under Templar's radar. So, we make it look like, as dutiful citizens of the beloved realms, we are traveling to the Devil's Maw for the celebration. Then once we are out of Vellteri, we can look at our options," Ching said, tossing her apple core expertly into the trash from the other side of the room.

"Hey, I thought tactics were supposed to be my thing," Constantine said playfully.

She stuck her tongue out at him.

"Ching, you are indeed brilliant. We can meet your father there. I will see if Abraham can travel with us," Jia said.

Pulling the special paper out of one of the house's many hidey holes, Jia scribbled a message. The paper appeared to be blank, and only with the special black lighting, would it be able to be read. Even with this precaution, she kept her message simple, just in case it was intercepted.

"Do you want me to run it?" Ching asked.

"I think we have had enough excitement for tonight. Plus, we need to start planning. The celebration is on Souls day, so we have just under a month," she said, rolling the parchment up tight.

"You know, I could get Barbosa to . . .," Ching began.

"Remember, legitimate loyal citizens of the realm traveling to celebrate; not barely legal Chem runners. Seriously girl, leave the arrangements to me," Constantine said, ducking as Ching spit an apple seed at him.

"So ladylike," Jia chided with a half-smile.

"Yeah well, some things even a genius has a hard time with," she replied with a smile.

"I'm going to go finish up the batch of vaccinations and antibiotics I've got brewing in the Pantheon. I don't want to leave people without supplies 'till I get back," she continued heading down the tunnel Constantine had popped out of.

Jia looked to Constantine, who met her eyes with an understanding look. Slipping the vintage Glock into his own many-pocketed pants, he followed her.

Waiting for them to be well into the tunnel system, she stepped out the door. As the cool dark night enveloped her, she debated going back in and grabbing a shawl as it was a bit of a walk to the fountain. A shiver passed over and she stepped back into the warm light cast from her doorway. Without looking inside, as she wanted to keep her eyes on the night, she reached in and grabbed her red wool shawl from its always position on the first hook. Ching had made it for her when she had been but five and it was one of her most prized possessions.

Stepping back into the night, she closed the door silently and hurried through the long shadows.

*************************************************

A soft haunting melody drifted down the hall as Asha made her way towards her daughter's bedroom. She had seen one of Mardrich's assistants rolling an aviary bed, shaped like a large nest, but made of clean warm fluff. She slowed her steps to give Lucy time to get Kyros settled before she came in. Hearing the music, she knew the bird was safe. One of Lucy's interesting quirks was the ability to master any musical instrument with minimal effort; however, she always seemed to come back to the violin. She brought forth some of the most amazing music anyone had ever heard, including those who remembered the Before Times. It was one of the things that had originally drawn the Emperor to her. He would have her play while he worked in his study.

Kyros used to perch on her shoulder when she played. Sometimes he would sing along, which was in and of itself, terrible, but it always brought a rare smile to Lucy's lips.

At first the heavy door resisted Asha's gentle push; however, she continued being soft and slow she had no desire to startle her daughter or the injured bird.

The sight that greeted her when she entered the room nearly broke her heart. Lucy sat on the edge of the bed, deep crimson stains adoring her soft golden gown. The nest was pulled up beside her as she played softly, her eyes never leaving the serene face of her best friend.

Seeing her mother, she paused. Lucy prided herself on being strong as she was the favored Princessa. She had diplomatic duties and the trust of the Emperor. She was a bastion of how to rise through the ranks of a treacherous court.

Yet when her cool gray eyes met her mother's soft brown eyes, the tears streamed in torrents down her cheeks.

Rushing to her child, she gathered her up in her arms, holding her as she sobbed.

"I'm so sorry, my little one." was all she said, knowing how hard it was for Lucy to show this much weakness and not wanting to call attention to it.

Sobs racked her body for several more moments before subsiding into hiccup bursts of tears. Looking up, she wiped her eyes angrily on her sleeve.

Taking the violin, she placed it on the bed before sitting beside her only child.

"Oh Matuska, why would someone hurt her," she asked, her voice a strained whisper.

Asha hid her surprise. It had been a very long time since Lucy had used the old language. She was deeply wounded.

"I'm not going to try to tell you it was an accident, or that there is any good reason why someone would do this, because there isn't." Asha had tried her best over the years to be completely honest with her child, even on matters that most would have considered too harsh for her age.

"I have a theory on what happened, and it's going to enrage you. If I share it with you, you must promise me that we will act on it together with a cool and level head. There is too much going on in Sadovka right now for a scandal. Before you say it, I know Kyros is more important to you than the celebration; however, we live here in this place on the grace of our Lord and Leader and now would be a very bad time to rock the boat," she explained.

Lucy's face contorted from grief to anger. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes a long moment. Opening them, she met her mother's gaze.

"I understand and to be honest, I do not want this to go through official channels," she replied in a tone that made Asha cringe.

"Mardrich believe she was shot by an Acolyte, the wound matches that of one of their specific weapons. Given some of the other facets of your life, I'm inclined to believe that either Nakari did it or had it done," she said, wincing as her daughter's grip on her hand became painful.

"That zounderkite!" she exclaimed.

"I do not disagree; however, you must tread carefully here. Not only is he a high priest, son of the grand priest, but the only brother to your love," she reminded her.

"I wish he had had the guts to shoot at me instead," Lucy said, reaching over to stroke the sleeping face of her best friend.

"He is far too much of a coward for such a thing," Asha reminded her.

No one liked Nakari outside his little passel of bullies, and his position and authority were only given due to his father. The idea that he would someday replace the grand priest had been the topic of much backroom politicking.

"This is because of Lila and me. He won't out her for fear of family shame, so he thinks . . . what? That hurting Kyros is going to frighten me away?" Lucy said, her face flushing with her rising anger.

"I assume that is his goal, or he is just a horrible human being and wanted to lash out at you. Neither reason gives him cause or forgiveness," Asha said, pleased to hear the footsteps of the Medici's runner bringing the tea.

"I ordered you some tea, darling. It's been a very trying time for you and I thought you could use some," Asha said. She knew that Lucy was aware that it was a sedative tea; which meant in a way, she was accepting the help of controlling her emotions without admitting it. She truly was a brilliant child.

The door opened and in stepped the last person Asha had though she would see. Lila stepped in, carrying the tea tray. Her long golden hair was plated in the traditional braid of the acolytes, silver ribbons intertwined. Her simple red gown was embroidered with the silver swirls of her position. Her deep unusual eyes took the scene in quickly before she shut the door.

Lucy looked up and her surprise was evident.

"What are you doing here?" Lucy asked, although it was clear to see how happy she was at her love's arrival.

"I heard about Kyros; I could not stay away. I knew you must be devastated," she replied.

Setting the tea on the nightstand, she rushed to Lucy. The two intertwined in a warm embrace. Asha smiled; she was so happy to see that Lila loved her daughter so. Feeling no shame in her child's choices, she kissed them both gently on the forehead before exiting the chamber silently.

Time seemed suspended as they languished in the comfort of the embrace. A door closing in the hall causing them to jump apart quickly.

Settling on the edge of the bed, Lucy sighed deeply.

"I hate that we have to live like this," she said, toying with one of the ribbons in Lila's hair.

"I know amour, but things are the way they are. We can risk our secret or die fighting for it," she said, her eyes on the sleeping bird.

"I think your brother has something to do with this," Lucy said, gesturing to the nest.

"I have no doubt he does; Nakari is a monster. He holds nothing sacred besides himself and his desire for power," she replied, her forehead hardening into lines of anger.

"I have no excuses for him and all I can say is I am so sorry," Lilia added.

"I have asked that this not be pursued through official channels," Lucy said, leaving her meaning dangling in the air between them.

Lila nodded.

"Things at home are rather tense as is. Nakari is pressuring father to allow him to do the ritual for the celebration. Papa's eyesight is getting much worse and he has a hard time reading the sacred texts," Lilia explained, plucking at her sleeve.

"I can't imagine he would allow it. He knows Nakari is not a true Acolyte or even a believer for that matter," Lucy said.

"He knows, and I had wanted to talk to you about this tonight. I was waiting for your note on where to meet when Mardrich's boy from the stables came to tell me about Kyros," she began.

Lucy's eyes went wide as a muttered curse word escaped her lips.

"The note, I forgot all about it. I had just finished it and whistled for Kyros to bring it to you when he flew in injured," she said, standing and beginning to pace.

"It is in code, so no one should be able to read it. Don't worry amour," Lila replied.

"Don't you think I know that! I just hate being careless," Lucy snapped.

Lila withdrew slightly from her biting tone. Seeing her distress, she grasped Lila's hands tightly in her own.

"Forgive me, you have no reason to feel the brunt of my anger, I'm just afraid and that always makes me rage," Lucy said, her eyes seeing forgiveness in Lila's.

"I understand; don't worry. I can't imagine how you must feel right now. The last thing I want to do right now is lay more on you; however, in order to prevent Nakari's type of religion from being the new generation, he has asked me to become Mother Abbess and Grand Priestess," she said, the words tumbling out quickly.

Lucy froze. This was a huge honor for Lila. She would be the youngest Abbess in the history of Devil's Maw. Given that it was the now the most common religion, it would put her in a great position of power. It would also put her under the microscope. It would be very difficult for them to carry on.

"I, I don't really even know what to say," Lucy said.

"I mean, you more than deserve it. You know the texts backward and forward and your cantor is second to none. I have little doubt that the Maw would accept your appointment. I just, I . . ., I don't want to lose you," Lucy added, looking at her feet. Emotions were not her strong suit and she knew it. Lila accepted that and loved her for all her flaws.

"Kotyonok, I understand. Trust me, I feel exactly the same, but look at what Nakari is willing to do to get what he wants," she said, gesturing towards the injured animal. The people of Sadovka look to the Maw for guidance, for strength, in these times. Fifteen years ago, the Imperiums were formed. Twenty-one years ago, this world would have been completely alien to what was had. I must keep the faith . . . to show them that the hard times will pass and in time we will achieve the greatness of the Before Times," she said, unable to stop the tears from escaping her eye.

"So, that's it then? We are done? As you ascend the steam stair, you leave me behind?" Lucy said, moving to get her tea, she drank deeply allowing it to warm a familiar path down her body.

"Absolutely not. I want to use this position to bring acceptance to our love. Do you really think we are the only 'abhorrent' couple in Sadovka? That just because Emperor Frumpyass says it's wrong, it is?" Lila said, her face flushing.

Lucy looked at her, her eyes shining, her lips trembling with righteous fervor and she knew she loved her utterly.

"No, I know we are not, and perhaps you're right. Our lord and leader ages. Perhaps if the cards are played right, I could succeed him and then you and I could make the rules . . . reshape the now times," Lucy said, chewing her lip as she often did when thinking.

Lilia nodded, pleased that Lucy thought her idea plausible. Lucy was special, and together, she doubted they could be stopped.

Lucy stopped pacing, smiling brightly for the first time since Kyros flew in through the window, and moved to her love. Caution was thrown out the window as they embraced their passions.

Chapter 3

"Knock, knock," Abraham said, sticking his head inside the farmhouse kitchen.

"She's in the barn," Violet answered from her comfortable position on the couch by the fire.

"Does she sleep in that thing?" he asked, referring to the Valkyrie as he slipped off his boots before joining her in the living room. He had long ago stopped pretending he didn't know and on occasion helped them find new sites to hit.

"Sometimes," Violet replied.

A shrill chirping from the top of the stairs made Abraham smile. Orion came racing down the stairs, sunning up his leg, and rubbing his long whiskers against his grizzled chin.

"Well hello to you too, little one," he said.

Violet looked at the pair. Orion's white fur was a stark contrast to the deep black of Abraham 's skin, although more than a fair amount of white could now be seen in his close-cropped hair and ever present five o' clock shadow.

"How is she holding up?" he asked, keeping an eye on the door. It was unlikely that Sybil would come in, yet he wanted this conversation to be private.

Violet took a deep breath, choosing her words carefully.

"She's a wreck; however, in true Captain Sybil fashion, it remains hidden. Her temper flares are more common; she's getting bolder, making riskier hits . . . I think she lives on the promise of adrenaline rushes," she replied, also glancing at the door. She knew Abraham could be trusted. But Sybil would not want anyone to know she was weak.

He frowned. He had suspected as much and now he was here once again to turn her life upside down.

"Violet, has she ever told you about her Father? Did April ever mention him?" he asked while scratching Orion's belly, causing him to trill in happiness.

Violet sat up. She has tried several times to ask about this mystery man; however, Sybil knew very little and she got the feeling that it was a touchy subject with April.

"No, not really. Why?" she replied.

"Yes . . . why?" Sybil's voice from the back door startled them both.

Orion leapt from his lap to race up his mistress's body and wrap around her shoulders.

"You know, someday I'm going to tie a bell to you so that you can't do that!" Violet said, feeling like she had been caught doing something wrong.

"Sybil, please come sit down. I have some news to share with you and it's not easy," he said, waiting for her to settle across from him and regard him with the same gray eyes he had been staring into for the past twenty-one years on an almost daily basis.

"His name is Josiah Carter," he began.

"Well that explains my ridiculous middle name," Sybil interrupted.

"Indeed, he insisted that you carry his name. Now you may think that it was a matter of pride or something. But in fact, it was so that if the need ever came, you could be found easier," he continued.

"Found? Why would he want to find me when he couldn't even stick around long enough for me to be born?" she said, letting venom creep into her tone. She was angry and this was a perfect subject to unleash it on.

"There is so much you don't know. About him, about the Before Times, about the now, about so many things and I honestly don't have the time to tell you everything. But what I can tell you is that he is in danger, he is in Sadovka, and his days to live are limited," he finished, trying to gauge her reaction.

"I'm supposed to give a Gorram?" she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Yes, you are, and you do. Don't let your mother's death be in vain," he said, taking on a scolding tone.

"What do you mean by that? Mom was killed by a virus, you told me so yourself," she said, her fists clenching.

"I lied. Before you explode: I had to. If I had told you the truth, you would be laying in the ground beside her and I could not allow that to happen. I have a duty to do and a major part of that is keeping you safe. Your mother was killed breaking into a Templar facility to figure out why they were moving covert supply trains through her fields instead of taking the roads," he said.

Anger flashed across her eyes. Pausing, she took a deep breath.

"Templar sanctions and covers up murder?" Violet asked.

"You have no idea, the crap they do," Sybil said, her chin resting on her crossed arms.

"Sorry Abraham, I know they do a lot of good too. It's just I've been seeing a lot of things and the stories I'm hearing from the rebellion groups make them look a lot less like angels of mercy," she continued.

"I take no offence, there are a great many good people inside Templar but there are just as many bad. When I joined, I truly believed it was a humanitarian cause, but I've seen things. Josiah opened my eyes in a lot of ways, which is why I owe it to him to send you to him," he explained.

"Wait, what? You want me to go into Sadovka? On purpose? Other than a raid?" Sybil asked, her expression incredulous.

"Well, not exactly. It's kind of a raid . . . You just need to break into the Sadovkian palace, free your father and get him back here," he said.

"Just . . . Are you seriously asking me to just stride into the palace and walk out with someone who they obviously don't want to leave?"

"Well, they actually don't even know he is there," Abraham said, realizing just how insane this plan sounded.

"I think I need a whole lot more explanation, because I 'm currently puzzled," she said.

"There is so much to tell you, but nearly no time to do it in. It's nearly a week's flight to the palace and we have a little less than two weeks until the celebration, which is the perfect cover as thousands of strangers will be streaming through the open gates."

"So, you can explain on the way," she replied.

"I wish I could. In fact, air travel with you is much preferable to the way I must go. I can't go straight there. I have to go to Vellteri to get your . . . well, I need to," he said, looking uncomfortable for the first time she could remember.

"My what? If you want me to take part in this Hatter plan, you need to trust me like you are asking me to trust you," she said, her eyes studying his face.

"You are right, of course; did you get any booze in your raids?" he asked.

"I have some Velletrian table wine and I got a fresh batch out of the still, so I have some moonshine. But I warn you, it could take the shine off a brass pot," she replied.

"I think I'd rather lose some shine off my brass tonight," he said.

"I'll grab it and some of the honey cake I made, but don't you dare spill any of the juicy bits until I get back to hear this!" Violet exclaimed

Sybil shook her head and was unable to hide her smile.

"The whole world is being turned on its head and you want the gossip" she laughed.

Violet stuck out her tongue and hurried off.

"Above and beyond everything else that will be said today, I am truly sorry I lied to you about your mother. She made me promise I would until I had more answers and could protect you. April was a good woman and I owed her that much," he said, reaching out tentatively laying his hand over hers.

Sybil looked up and he was surprised to see tears in her eyes.

"I miss her. It was always me and her, you know. We worked this farm together, she helped me tinker, she took in Orion and Violet, she had a good soul," she replied softly.

She wiped the tears away.

"She was exceptional in a lot of ways and once you are reunited with Josiah, I have a feeling he will explain it further and better than I can. But coming out here to check on you guys was my favorite promise," he said with a soft smile and a wistful look, leaving Sybil to wonder if perhaps he had cared for her more than just out of duty.

Violet rushed back in huffing. She held several old glass bottles, which had once held something called Pepsi, giving one to each of them. The clear liquid sloshed inside looking as harmless as water, but being nearly one hundred and twenty proof, it was far from benign. Heading back into the kitchen, she came back with a large clay platter covered in thick spongy cake.

Abraham took a tenuous sip.

"Gorram, girl, that's some serious hooch," he said.

"That it is. I also use it for the engine on the Valkyrie," she said with a smirk as he made a face.

"I believe it. Now, your father is a good man. The story I'm going to tell you may put that in doubt, but I want you to try to remember that. Josiah was recruited by Templar in the Before Times. He was barely sixteen, his family lived in a place called Detroit, they were very poor, and Templar offered them a lot of money to go to their facility. He was interesting to them because he was brilliant and had an excellent, if almost superhuman, immune system, allowing them to try gene therapies on him with far less recovery time. Now, as you are both from the after times, you do not know the way the world was then. Human trials of genetic manipulation were greatly frowned on, so it was hidden, in the end, fourteen males were successfully engineered. RD-48, they were called as they were the first group of forty-eight to have survived," he said, allowing that to sink in as he helped himself to a honey cake.

"Unfortunately for Templar, the group never had a chance to see through its full potential because of the blasts. It is believed, or at least the cover story says, that nine of the subjects were killed in an airplane crash as the bombs ignited the sky. The other five were pressed into regular service given their immunity to radiation, the biological weapons, and their ability to outthink most anyone. Your father was assigned to my unit. I was a Marine in the Before Times and I had a fair amount of combat training. We toured the realms, and for reasons he never revealed to me, within a year's time, he met and impregnated three women: one in each realm. Three girls were born all on the same day. Although it was only the due date for Ching; as you know . . ., you were very early, and Lucy was late," he stopped, looking up.

"So, wait, Lucy, Ching? You are saying I have sisters, and we all share a birthday?"

"You do, Lucy lives in Sadovka. Her mother is the favored wife of the Emperor, and he believes her to be his daughter. Ching lives in Vellteri and her mother is Jia who is Josiah's actual wife," he continued holding out a tiny piece of cake to Orion who gladly climbed down from his mistresses' shoulders to snatch it.

For a long moment Sybil said nothing while staring into the roaring flames.

"You are aware how insane this all sounds right? Secret genetic experiments? Well, the part about my father being a womanizer is not all that hard to believe. But three sisters who just happen to be born on the same date, one of us coming dangerously early to make it so? I mean, that's a hard pill to swallow," she said, looking up unshed tears shining in her eyes.

"Sadly, that's probably the most plausible thing in the entire story. I need to go to Vellteri to get Ching so she can help you rescue Josiah," he finished

"I thought you said they didn't even know he was there. So, why can't he just leave; I mean . . . you said there will be throngs of devoted Imperialists and he doesn't sound like a complete unevo. He should be able to handle this."

"Unevo?" he asked.

"It's Velletrian slang for unevolved humans, people living in the Before Times still and unable to function in the Now Times," Violet explained.

"No. Josiah is far from an unevo; however, he was attempting to get information or something to do with serum. I have no idea. The last time I talked to him he was kind of a raving lunatic. Not that this was something all that irregular for Josiah. He has fugues. I think it has something to do with the genetic stew they used on him. He'd been gone nearly a month when his emergency signal came across our radio. The message consisted of a set of coordinates and the word Trinity. I have no idea what it means, but he made me promise that if this code was given, I was to collect the three of you and bring you to him," he said.

"I must ask, why exactly do you feel the need to do all this for one of your subordinates?" Sybil asked.

Abraham paused.

"He was not my subordinate. He was my brother. When the world has gone to hell and you and five other guys are attempting to save lives and not lose your own, it become something a whole lot stronger than a 'unit'," he replied.

Sybil sensed there was something else he was not saying; however, she did not wish to push him and lose the chance of learning more.

"So, sisters? Tell me about them." she looked at Violet whom she considered to be her sister and wondered if these girls would be nearly as amazing as she was.

"Well, let's start with Lucy, as odds are you will meet her first. She's . . . well, she's a firecracker. She is one of the most trusted and accomplished diplomats in the Emperor's court," he said.

"Wait, she's an Imperialist?" Sybil said as the lines of annoyance creased her brow.

"In a way, yes, I guess she is, although I think you will find her views vary quite a bit from the current structure. I will warn you: she has a temper a mile wide and it is known to be brutal," he said

Violet laughed.

"Well, there is your first point of family resemblance," she said, ducking the pillow Sybil let fly at her head.

Abraham chuckled.

"I can attest that all three of you have the fire, and you are all exceptional and brilliant. Your talents all lie in different places and if I were putting together a team for any kind of high-risk mission, I would absolutely put you together as I believe you complement each other," he replied.

"So, my father went around sleeping with women in order to build a team that could someday save his ass?" Sybil said, rubbing Orion's belly as he stretched out across her lap.

"While I would like to say that Josiah was a great planner, I don't think even he knew this would become an eventuality," he replied.

"Yet he set up this code word and has had you playing nurse maid all over the realms to his kids-except the Velletrian one. I guess she was worth staying for," Sybil said, not taking her gaze from the flames.

Heavy silence hung around them. Even the air in the room seemed oppressive. Each breath drawn invading the lungs with a crushing sadness.

"Will you go?" Abe asked softly

"I shouldn't. I'm nineteen years old and I've never even seen this man. We have a good life here, and if I get captured it would cut off a lot of the Rebellion's supplies. So why should I risk going into the lion's den for a man to whom I mean nothing?" she asked, the stark pain in her eyes hard to withstand.

Again, the silence stretched out, a few crackles from the fire attempting to fill the void.

"Tell me about this Ching," she said, not taking her eyes off the fire.

"Ching is a chem runner, she creates vaccines and medications for those who are not privileged or influential enough to receive them. Vellteri is not nearly as civilized as Pendergrass as you may know from your excursions over the wall. However, it is far worse than you realize. As a realm, Vellteri has the least to offer to the others. Sadovka has the steam pipelines, Pendergrass the crops and animals," he replied.

"But I've heard they have been able to start fishing again, as the radiation levels in the lakes there are the lowest and the fish are able to be eaten," Violet interjected.

"That is true, but that is a very recent event. In time I believe this will raise Vellteri up to the other Imperiums. However, all it boasts now is a lot of building materials, remaining historical monuments; which, by the way, don't help when your people are starving, and Templar. As you know, the headquarters are there and if my suspicions are correct, I think they a have kept the realm underdeveloped as to keep their activities off the radar of the other rulers," he continued.

Sybil's head perked up.

"What activities?" she asked.

"I really don't have time to go into all the rumors and things I've seen. I must get to Ching. It should not be hard to get her to go but getting to her takes time. Not to mention, I have a lot more scrutiny on my movements there," he said, standing as several joint pops accompanied him.

"Plus, I'm not as young as I used to be," he said with a grin.

"I'll go," Sybil said quietly.

"If only to look him in the face and tell him he broke my mother's heart." Swift fluid movement saw her on her feet and out the back door before anyone could speak.

Abraham and Violet exchanged looks.

"So, what does one pack for a Sadovkian Fall?" she asked, knowing that she would accompany her captain into the Devil's Maw and back.

"Well, luckily for you, Sadovka has changed a lot since the Before Times. You would know the large part of it as Russia, if you were to find an old map. It was very cold, nearly frozen tundra in some parts. It's warm and humid now, all the steam sits beneath it, so sub-tropical," he said, seeing the confusion on her face.

"You guys are so unevo sometimes," she smirked.

"Because I like the old world? Because I remember what it was like when freedom really meant something?" he shook his head, smiling sadly.

"Yes, I guess in some ways I am unevolved to this new life; the NT Markov calls it the 'Now Times,' no longer living someone else's history. We are history. We are the forefathers that will be taught in schools and remembered on holidays. Man is straight up crazy," he said, looking out the door into the deepest black sky he had ever seen.

"I forget when I'm in the big Imperiums with the reflective glass and steam panels, what it's like out here. Simpler, slower pace . . . even the moon looks lazy here," he shook his head again.

"You be careful, and you keep that girl from losing her head," he said, hugging her tightly.

"Yeah, see you in Sadovka," she called after him.

"Make sure she looks through the entire envelope; all the coordinates, safe places to land and where the meeting spots are," he said as the pitch-dark night swallowed him as his steps took him from the halo of light spilling down the steps.

Clanging and banging from inside the barn let Violet know Sybil was blowing off steam on some poor unsuspecting piece of metal, and it would be best to just head on to bed.

Dousing the fire, she scooped up Orion from his place on the hearth and took him to bed with her. He would be a long time before his Lady was back in and he loved to be warm when he slept.

She remembered the day they had found him. She had wanted very much to leave it and go, but not Sybil, they connected somehow, and she was determined to save him.

Curling him up on her pillow, running her fingers through his soft white fur letting her fingers rub softly on his sky-blue patch, she was glad Sybil had not listened and kept him. He was nice to have around.

Violet closed her eyes. The sounds of metal on metal pounding drifted across the still night air, finding her drowsy. They inspired visions of bells in her head, ringing in a fierce wind.

****************************************************************

Abraham checked his map; it had been three days since he left the farmhouse. Sybil would be taking off soon. He had hoped to be at the Velletrian gate yesterday; however, the convoy he'd been part of had been hit by bandits. They'd just wanted the food and meds; the personnel trucks were tied shut; tires flattened so they could make a getaway. No one was hurt. He had hooked up with a bureaucratic train headed to the gate to accommodate travelers heading to Sadovka. It was an entire day longer to go through Pendergrass to the Sadovka gate; however, it was a whole lot safer on this side of the wall. Parts of Vellteri had become home to the augmenters and not every surgery had the desired results, so there were some rather unstable people wandering those ruins.

The team rushed ahead to help at the gates, bringing additional scanners and personnel as the expected traffic flow was high.

Everyone in the NT is assigned a number in the new system. Those numbers were tattooed on the inner wrist of everyone at birth, starting with the rise of the Imperiums. Everyone else had been given the tattoos when they registered for radiation testing. Though most of them were completely unaware and others thought it was something to declare them radiation free when the patrols came through looking for the infected.

Having a number meant safety, the ability to get meds, to use Krovnar the realms monetary system. To seek education where it was available. A number meant a chance at a civilized life.

Was it possible that their people out there unnumbered? Sure, rumor had it there was a group of people in each realm who had gone to the trouble of carving out the marks. They supposedly lived together in groups, each with a name and creed. Templar simply called them Ghosts. Propaganda would have most people believe they were criminals or insane as many layers of skin would have to be removed or burned to get rid of the ink. Abe just figured they were the fringe, those who rebelled against the structure. He had never actually seen anyone come under the light with a scar, so he could not personally say if they did or did not exist.

He'd once seen a document pertaining to operation Blackout. It talked about rounding up the ghosts and rebranding or disposing of them. But to the best of his knowledge, it had never been tried. These people lived in the waste lands, and it would take incredible manpower and resources to hunt down a vague threat when they had things like augmenters to deal with.

Templar had mostly everyone tagged and under control. So, when the people passed through the gate, they passed their arms under steam generators which caused the ink to light up bright red.

Their number would be checked in the Templar database. Somehow, no one had caught on to the fact that Templar had been able to use the solar energy that was supposed to be strictly for public hospital and communication lines to repower computer systems. The inner working of the Templar headquarters were decades ahead of the world they ruled over. It was kept that way on purpose; much easier to fight and control a less advanced populace.

He had been told it was to protect the people from criminals and people seeking to destroy the new peace, yet it always seemed to him that something more was going on. People were taken at gate crossings and were never seen or heard from again. He had pulled special strings to alter the tattoos on two of Josiah's children. If they were ever scanned, a completely fake profile would appear, nothing that could possibly flag them as unique or as belonging to an RD-48 male.

Nodding to another officer, he slid in behind the wheel of his Jeep. Only the military had steam vehicles that were as versatile as the Before Times cars. Sometimes though, he missed the roar of a gasoline engine and the smell of exhaust.

Falling in line with the other cars, his mind wandered to the task ahead. It was not going to be easy to tell Ching her father was in trouble. She was a bit of a wild child, by far the biggest risk taker out of the three. Being a chem runner is punishable by death in Vellteri, the propaganda painted them as users out to steal credits from addicted residents. While there was at least a few like that, it was very far from the norm. Most Chem runners made vaccinations and antibiotics. He knew Ching never charged for what she made, even though she put herself in significant danger just to make them. Templar knew about her, but they could never make anything stick. Not to mention, killing a mind as brilliant as hers would be a serious waste. Mud splatter covering his windshield could not block the sight of the looming stony edifice. Impenetrable stone walls completely uniform in their construction. No dents, no crevices, no sign of masonry.

It was an engineering marvel. It seemed that Templar could produce miracles, producing these flawless blocks at an incredible pace and getting them up with limited resources.

He shook his head. Someday the truth would come out and it would cause a lot of trouble. His only hope was that he would be long dead when it did.

While the other cars pulled off to settle into their duties, Abraham pulled up to the guard station, his arm hanging out the window to be scanned. A bored guard approached him, eyeing his Templar shirt and vehicle and produced his steam scanner.

He passed it over, a small, high-frequency beep came, followed by a rapid set of additional beeps that caused both Abraham and the guard to snap to attention.

"Please hold one moment Sir," he said, now eyeing Abraham with suspicion.

He watched the guard head into his station to verify why he was flagged. Abraham felt that undeniable gut twist of terror, there was no reason for him to be flagged. He traveled between Imperiums all the time; however, in these times, nothing was ever certain. Perhaps Markov had discovered what he was doing for Josiah and wanted to question him. It had always been a possibility, but as the years had passed, he had grown complacent in his task.

Sliding his hand down slowly to his hip, he released the snap of his weapon's holster. He had absolutely no plan and no idea what he would do, but he knew there was no way he was going into Templar custody.

The officer came back out, his posture relaxed. Abe watched him approach, momentarily lowering his guard.

"I'm sorry, Sir, it seems when they hooked up the new system inside to prepare for the influx. It was set to alarm anyone with a security clearance instead of the other way around."

Abraham nodded, not letting the relief that was flooding his body show on his face.

"It happens, no worries. I wish you the best of luck this week handling the herds," he said with a smile, Shifting the Jeep into gear, he drove through the open gate with a wave. Not until the gate was no longer in the rearview mirror, did he re-strap his pistol.

Chapter 4

Ching paced the kitchen, her face frantic. Constantine rushed back through the door; his look hopeful.

Seeing the same look on her face, he faltered.

"Nothing," she said.

"Not a single word; no note, no demands, no nothing. I will lay credits that Markov is behind this. That fat, arrogant bastard could not take no for an answer. I will snap his neck myself," Ching said, her frantic gestures sending a glass crashing to the floor.

"Woah . . . slow down. I'm not saying you're wrong, but I'm saying we need plan, I seriously doubt that if you show up at the Vatican gates demanding to be let in to murder the head of Templar, that they're going to take you seriously," Constantine advised, as he cleaned up the shards of glass.

"I need to get ahold of my father, he will know what to do." she said, sinking down into her mother's favorite rocking chair.

"Agreed, but I don't think the normal channels are going to be an option. I think we need to find Abe," he said.

"Yeah, look how well that went for Abba," she said, unbidden tears tracing their way over her cheeks.

A knock at the door brought them both to their feet.

Ching ever wary called out.

"Who is it?"

"It's Albert," the voice replied.

Constantine opened the door. Albert was one of their most trusted distributors. He was also quite talented in relieving Templar of drug-making components.

He stood before them with downcast eyes, in his hands he held a torn red shawl.

"I found this down the south street from the Trevi fountain," he said softly.

"I'm sorry Chi," he said, handing it to Constantine. He faded back into the shadows. It was never good to be seen together when the eyes were everywhere.

Holding the shawl, it was apparent that it was not a rip at all, but a steam bullet hole. The singed edges around the hole made it clear what was used.

"Oh Goddess, she has been shot," Ching said, crumpling back down into her chair, sobs overtaking her.

"We don't know that it hit her. There's no blood here and I'm sure that if there had been blood on the ground, Albert would have said something," he said, trying to reassure her while he was terrified of the same thing.

"Let's just give it a little time, I have all of the Nulls and Voids out looking. Let's find Abe. He can see if she is inside the Vatican, at least. That way we know she is safe," he said.

She nodded without looking up.

"I'm pretty sure this counts as an emergency. Abe gave me a Templar issue radio and his direct code so I can call him. He said it should be used as a last resort and right now I'm at the end of my rope," she said.

Quickly moving into the basement, she pulled out the radio, which had accumulated a thick layer of dust. She had been only six when he had slipped her the radio and she had never had cause to take it out until now.

"Here's to hoping it still works," she muttered, wiping the grime off the face with her hand.

Pushing the button in, she was pleased to be rewarded with a dull yellow light and a series of beeps. Pushing in the code she sat in the near dark silence and waited. There was no response, no confirmation that it was received.

She closed her eyes sending her hope and desperation out into the same nothingness the code had travelled to, hoping to speed it along to its intended recipient.

Abe let out an audible gasp when his radio buzzed to life. He had just settled in a Templar barracks about three hundred miles from Rome. He was tired, but he moved quickly, grabbing the radio before it alerted anyone else.

Assuming it was Josiah again, he made his footsteps quick and silent as he and the radio made their way out the back door to a secluded grove of olive trees before checking the code. His heart sank. It was Ching and there was trouble.

He returned to the barracks. Grabbing his half-unpacked bag, he shuffled his things back in quickly. Ching had never called him for help before. Something must be incredibly wrong for her to risk using the radio. Templar held the only air wave communications and as such could be intercepted if someone was looking. Those interceptions were rare. They were usually looking for "UNS" using the waves. They had begun advancing towards the Before Times communications and none of the higher ups wanted that. So, they were actively hunted.

He nodded to the officer in the motor pool.

"I need a fully charged steam Jeep. I'll leave the one I brought as I don't have time to wait, need to get back to HQ." Given his rank and clearance no one ever argued with him, which was just the way he liked it, considering all his other activities.

"Be careful on the bridge, we have had increased activity from the Nulls and Voids out there," he said.

"Nulls and Voids?" Abe asked. It was hard to keep up with the random groups of bandits popping up. This was not one he remembered.

"Yeah, that's what the band of ghosts in Vellteri named themselves," he replied with a shrug.

Abe frowned but said nothing.

"Thanks," he replied finally and headed out.

Around the walls were cities. They had done as settlers had always done and built up their homes near supplies and protection. It was dark by the time he reached the outskirts of the first town. He could not recall the name. The roads were well maintained, but no lights existed outside the slender cones of his headlamps.

Staring out into the darkness, Abe began to think, Ghosts? Nah was probably just a bunch of bandits using the idea to scare the Templar patrols from disrupting their looting.

As the night grew darker and the silence more profound, his mind began to wander.

What was it about ghosts, nulls, voids, or whatever they supposedly called themselves that scared people? Granted, a fair amount more of the population had never known the Before Times. Many had died in the blasts, radiation poisoning, and a lack of supplies had culled the herd significantly. He had never been privy to the exact numbers; however, the last numbers given before the blasts had been around 8 billion people on planet Earth. The next census was done at the rise of the Imperiums. It listed the countable world population, aka the ones who had been tagged, at just over one billion.

Perhaps the control kept over the population reassured those who only knew these times, that what caused the blasts would not happen again. No one knew what had sparked the cataclysmic events that had changed the world. Control and order assured people that another such event would not happen. After all, freedom of thought and of action was the road to anarchy and death, or so they taught in Templar boot camp.

He thought back to his own training, it had been rushed and he knew it had become much more like programing now that time was a luxury. As Abe drove, the dark night pressing in on him, his mind wandered back through various memories. One memory leading to the other as he fell down the rabbit hole of a forgotten time.

Ten pairs of eyes watched the Jeep from atop a ridge. Pressing a pair of binoculars to his eyes, the General-as he was called-watched it, his face torqued into a tight frown. They had not heard of any convoys coming through and a lone vehicle was mighty strange, especially at night. The radio at his side crackled to life. It was something they tried to use sparingly, even though it was unlikely that transmission this far out in the barrens would be picked up. Security was increasing as the anniversary party neared.

"Sir, it's a lone Templar employee. What would you like us to do" The voice crackled through the well abused speaker.

"Block the bridge. I will meet you there," he said.

Placing the radio back in his pocket, his fingers ran absently over deep red puckered skin that marred his wrist.

Abe saw dawn breaking over the horizon and was pleased that he would no longer be traveling in the pitch black. He was tired and the dark made it very hard not to want to pull over and sleep. Another welcome sight was that of a large bridge, its beautiful white stone glistened in the rising sun, a stark contrast to the charred black ground that lay beneath it. A warhead had detonated here, its purpose had been, in theory, to destroy the lower part of Italy, sinking Rome and the Vatican, and hopefully catch Greece in the fallout tidal wave. It had impacted and exploded; however, for a reason still unknown, the entire payload had not ignited. It had instead acted more like a Cruz missile, leaving a smoking hole just over two miles wide. Some theorized it was the sharp cliffs rising on either side of the blast zone that had tempered the destruction. Others say it was simply a dud bomb. Either way, Italy had been spared. Greece had not been as lucky and was caught in another blast that hit Turkey.

Templar had built the bridge in the very earliest days of reconstruction as it was the only way through the mountains for miles. As he drew closer, a ray of dawn sunshine glinted into his eyes. From the intensity of the reflection, he surmised it was off something metallic. Having been part of the bridge team, he knew for certainty that there was nothing on the structure that should glint like that as it was made entirely of polished white stone. It did sparkle, but not like that,

Slowing his speed, his eyes searching for the cause of the glint. Cresting a small ridge, he found himself face to face with several Before Times tanks. Standing before them was a rag tag group of men and women. He slowed even further, studying them. While their faces were gaunt and a bit dirty, their clothing was in decent repair and they all wore standard issue boots. However, what was concerning were the weapons they held.

At the rise of the Imperiums all Before Times weapons had been confiscated. Those who were permitted to have civilian weapons were in time given the steam guns invented by the Mengelan. His inventions were dangerous, deadly, and rather unpredictable; however, with the source of ammo dwindling, it became obvious a replacement was needed.

He had been trained in the new weaponry. It was not bad and had gotten safer over the years; however, he was happy to still have access to his Glock and Peace Maker since ammo would not be an issue for Templar for at least another decade, baring a war, of course.

The group before him held shot guns, pistols, and what looked to be a modified AK-47. It was probable that they were not loaded and used for show; however, he was not in a hurry to find out.

Slowing to a stop, he stayed in his car. Eyes bored into him from the guard, yet no one made a move towards him.

He was about to step out when a loud banging on the passenger window nearly caused him to lose control of his bladder.

Leaning over slowly, he rolled the window down and looked into the face of an old man, perhaps not in age, but in experience at the very least.

"Thought you soldier boys had better sense than to be traveling out here alone," he said, sweeping the interior of the car with his eyes.

"I'm just heading to Rome to see a friend," Abe said, realizing he was surrounded and outnumbered.

"Didn't know Temps had friends," he snorted, the men standing around him chuckling.

Abe shrugged.

"What's your name, boy?" he asked. His thick voice reminded Abe of rough stones being ground together.

"I'm Abraham Jones," he said, unsure of why he had not lied, but it was too late now.

The man squinted at him his expression softening.

"Your headed to see Ching Carter I wager," he replied.

Abe was unable to keep the surprise from his expression as this man knew his mission, the mission he had shared with no one. There was no way the signal he got would have meant anything to anyone but him.

"Before you get your feathers ruffled boy, I know Ching. All the Nulls and Voids know her, she's our main Chem runner. Good kid, that one. She told us about you, said you were not to be hassled," he explained.

Abe smiled and shook his head; the Carter girls were always surprising him.

"We will escort you to the end of the barrens, and for what it's worth, I hope you find Jia," he said, turning to walk away.

Abe felt the cold finger of dread work its way up his spine.

"Wait, what do you mean, find Jia?" he called out.

The man walked back over, his friendly eyes narrowing in suspicion.

"I thought you said you were headed to see a friend," he said, moving his hand unabashedly to his weapon.

"Look, I got a distress signal from Ching late last night. I have no idea what it was about, only that she has never called me before; hence, why I'm out here, alone, at night, trying to get to her," he explained, not moving for his own weapon. The last thing he wanted to do was make this guy and his crazies doubt his intentions.

The man nodded.

"Well, seeing as you look exhausted, why don't you let one of my men drive? I'll have some coffee brought and I'll ride with you and tell you what I know," he offered.

Abe was torn it was against every Templar regulation in the book to give over your vehicle and ride with unknowns, but truth was he was tired, coffee sounded mighty fine and any intel he could get before heading into a situation.

He nodded.

"Is it real coffee or that freeze-dried shit from the MRE packs?" he asked, stepping out to head to the passenger side.

The man laughed.

"Oh, my friend you are in for a treat. We got stuff that was ground not two days past," he said, sliding into the back while a rather scruffy man took the wheel.

Abe could not help but smile.

"Man, Ching knows which friends to make," he replied.

"That she does. You can call me General, everyone does," he said, extending his hand to Abe.

Abe's eyes were drawn to the deep, thick slash adoring the man's inner wrist. The skin was puckered and purple, it might be an old scar, but the effort had left the skin a permeant angry red.

The General noticed his stare but said nothing. If Ching vouched for this guy, Templar or not, he was okay. He'd probably never seen a Null before; he's been taught to believe that they were ghosts, a non-threat.

They pulled up to the bridge, waiting for the tanks to be rolled out of the way.

"That's some mighty big artillery you got there, General," Abe said.

"You'd be surprised what gets abandoned when the world is coming down around your ears," he replied. A crude clay flask was passed into the vehicle. The deep aroma of robust coffee filled the cabin and Abe could not help but sigh.

"Been living on rations I see," General said with a grin.

"Too Gorram long," he replied, taking a deep swing, letting it burn a familiar and missed path through his body.

As the Jeep rumbled over the bridge Abe sipped happily, and the General began to speak.

"Word came out over the wire two days ago, late in the night that Jia was missing, Ching raised the alarm and all the Nulls within the city began looking. I've managed to collate some of the information through various patrols," he explained.

Abe nodded slowly. He was rather impressed with this supposed ragtag group thus far.

"Jia was called to the Vatican early morning on Thursday. She left in a rather flustered state. She and Ching were shut up in the house until dark. Jia in that obscenely bright shawl she insists upon wearing made her way to the fountain. Why, we are unsure of," he continued.

"I can supply you the information on that, General. There is a small hole in the base of the Poseidon statue that Jia leaves messages in for me. It is a safe place, most won't go into it because of the Wheelers, but I supply them parts they leave the Carters be," he explained.

"Boy, whose side are you on?" the General asked in an admirable way.

Abe thought a minute

"I should say mine, but that is not entirely true. I look out for mine, and in a way, for those who can't care for themselves in our current world," he replied with a shrug.

"You are right, Ching knows how to make the right friends," he said thoughtfully.

"One of the Nulls found her shawl and took it to Ching. That's when the hunt began. So far, the best we can tell is that it was not bandits, wheelers, or augmenters that took her," he said.

"The Nulls?" Abe asked.

"I'm guessing Ching has not filled you in on much of the underworld. The Nulls are what we call those born to the Voids; they are never presented for tagging to the governments, so they don't, to the best of anyone's knowledge, even exist," he said.

Abe sat a long moment, his eyes gazing out on the barren landscape.

"I'm going to be rather blunt and say I never even thought about the Ghost's in this way. I mean, I figured it was perhaps a few old crazy militia guys fighting the man. Err, no offence," he added.

The General laughed.

"In the beginning, you would not be far from wrong. But, as the years passed, and it became apparent that the new freedom was not for everyone, more came to our cause. Hell, before Black Out, I'd have said we have nearly twenty thousand in Vellteri alone," he replied.

Abe's mouth fell open. Here was this . . ., Ghost, this scarred man referencing a secret Templar project that to the best of his knowledge had been scrapped.

"I'm going to guess there is a lot about Templar you don't know," The General said, the smile lines around his mouth vanishing.

"Apparently . . . I mean, I guess there is a lot I do know, but to be honest I think the only person who knows everything is Markov and his elevator does not go all the way to the top floor," Abe said, surprised how easy it was to talk to this man, wondering briefly if perhaps he was talented like Lucy in that regard. But he was too old to be an RD-48 child, not to mention the male children of the RD's rarely survived birth.

"I can't disagree with you there. I met him once, in the Before Times. He tried to recruit me from the army. He seemed rather offended that I was not interested. Had I paid more attention to his crazy visions of the future, I might have been a bit more prepared when the blasts did come," The General said, shaking his head sadly.

Markov had used that speech on many he had recruited, foretelling of world wars on a nuclear level, hoping to scare people into joining the new hope for civilization. Abe had figured he was just wound a little too tight. Perhaps he had seen too many Star Wars movies. He had joined for his own reasons that had very little to do with Markov and his tactics.

"Back to Black Out. What exactly happened?" Abe asked, trying to savor the last few mouthfuls of the thick dark liquid.

"Templar's elite swept through Vellteri, rounding up all the Nulls and Voids they could find. Those who resisted were simply shot. The others were taken to the coast. It is believed they were loaded on cargo vessels and taken to one of the prison isles. Although no one can confirm that as no one has ever made it back," he explained.

Abe worked to draw a breath. Prison isles. Sea Transport? If any of the land masses had survived and were still out there, they would be completely desolate. There would be no resources, no law, no help. To take people, marked or no, and dump them out into these places was unconscionable.

"I am under no illusions that the Imperiums are just, or that Templar is corruption free, yet the scale of what you're talking about, the heartlessness that it would take to just jettison these people, on top of the fact that we were told that due to radiated animals and lack of sea vessels it was impossible to travel the waters is just incredibly hard to believe," he said, wanting to believe he was not completely snowed.

"I can respect that, but I saw them come through. Can I vouch that they did not just take them to the coast, shoot them, and shove them in? No, but I must hope they at least gave them a chance on an island. I had friends and family in that group," the General replied, the sadness drawing his face longer, aging him.

For a while they were silent. All minds were heavy.

"If Markov had Jia snatched, I can guess why, and I should be able to find out," Abe said.

"If there is anything that we can do to help you, you have but to ask. Were it not for Ching, I would be dead. That girl has put herself on the line for us many a time," he offered.

"I may need some help getting the three of them out of Vellteri, if I have to bust Jia out, the main roads are not going to be an option, and neither is the gate," Abe said, realizing that his time as Templar employee may just about be at an end.

"We will get you there; also, we can hook you up with our people in Sadovka, given the mass transit of loyal Imperialists heading in for the shindig it, will be much easier to hide you," the General said.

Abe nodded.

"I'm assuming Ching knows how to contact you?" he asked.

"That, she does. Why don't you close your eyes a bit? We still have just over an hour in the barrens, and I have a feeling rest is not going to be afforded much from here on out," the General suggested.

Abe studied the man a moment. He was torn, there was nothing in his gut that told him not to believe this man, and he was trusted by Ching. He had given him intel and offered help, yet he was a ghost, a man who obviously fought against the order that many of his friends had died defending. Emotions swirled around his head. He owed Templar some loyalty as they have spared him many of the hardships faced by the populace after the blasts. He had never gone to bed hungry. Now, some of the MRE meals were less than palatable, but hey, sometimes you take what you can get.

Yet despite what they had done for him, he could not turn a blind eye to what they were doing to the people they were meant to protect. Their part in the RD genetic experiments, and perhaps in the blasts themselves.

Gravity smothered him. Nothing in the New Times had been easy, or certain. He felt himself standing on the edge of some great precipice. Taking help from ghosts . . . going against Templar . . . it was a path that once he started down, he knew he would be unable to return from.

After a long moment, he opened his eyes again to see the General regarding him.

"Thank you. Thank you for being a good friend to Ching and for not murdering me on sight, and mostly for the amazing coffee," he said with a grin that caused the General to chuckle.

"Rest well, Abraham Jones. Your burden is heavy, and your road is long," he said, watching Abe's eyes slowly sink closed.

Chapter 5

Tap, tap.

Ching stirred from her place on the settee her eyes flickering open, hazy firelight meeting her vision. Blinking slowly, she looked around for what had woken her. Seeing nothing amiss, she closed her eyes again.

Tap, tap.

This time her eyes flicked open and her hand moved to her weapon. She had definitely heard something this time.

Tap, tap, tap.

Synapses firing more quickly, her eyes focusing as sleep fled. Moving to the door, she looked out cautiously. The street was empty, the gathering gloom soaking in the crevasses, making each shadow a deep pool of inky suspicion.

Tap, tap, tap.

More insistent and louder, she looked at the floor. Moving quickly, she whipped the rug back, pulling up the trap door, and hoping upon hope to see her mother's face staring up at her. Instead, she was greeted with a blinking Anatoly, deep black streaks of tunnel dirt accentuating his swarthy skin.

"Sorry to wake you Ching, but I received word from the General. They met Abraham on the bridge in the barrens. He was recognized and they helped him on his way. He is about three hours east of us now, but he is on his way and has been briefed on the situation here," he said, accepting her hand up into the house.

A wave of relief rushed over her, her signal had been received, help was on the way. Offering Anatoly some water, she smiled.

"Thanks ant-man," she said.

She knew he was not overly fond of the nick name, but he had come by it honestly. He was able to fit into places no normal human being should. He reminded them that he was a contortionist, not an insect, but the name had just stuck.

"Hey, rumor has it your leaving Vellteri," he said, hesitant eyes sweeping over face, noting her upset expression.

"I have to, for a little while, I have to get my Abba back and to my dad safely. I could never leave you guys forever. I'm leaving all of my raw supplies, plus Byron has become an amazing chemist," she said, cringing a bit at the end of her statement.

"Yeah, Byron's a great chemist; if you like things being blown up, over cooked or intermixed. Yep, he's fantastic," Anatoly replied, rolling his eyes.

"Okay, so he's getting there, but I will be back. After Abba is safe, I'm going to the Contessa with the information on Templar. She's being snowed, and she may be able to do something about it," Ching replied.

"Just keep the extinguishing blankets handy, you know . . . just in case?" she added, causing them both to laugh.

"You take care of yourself out their Chi, I'm sending word ahead with the Nulls and Voids, to let them know to expect you guys and to protect you," he said, glancing at the tunnel entrance.

"I have to go, Sempre fedele Chi," he said, hugging her tightly.

"Sempre fedele Anatoly," she replied, returning his embrace.

Stepping back, he looked at her a moment, unsaid words thick between them. Seeing the worry in his eyes, her heart ached.

"I will bring him back, Anatoly, I can't lose my shadow," she said, watching a rogue tear slide down his cheek, leaving behind it evidence of the gratitude he felt.

Squeezing her hand, he slipped down the tunnel, the darkness snatching him from the cylinder of light, swallowing him whole.

Her weary body sank into the soft cushion of the settee, pulling the blanket close, she closed her eyes. Pushing away the demons of fears about Markov trying to smother her, she fell back asleep. As her eyes closed, a single tear wove its way down her face, a reminder of the pain she hid.

*************************************************************

"Knock, knock," Violet said as she stuck her head into the engine room of the Valkyrie.

Sybil looked up, and before she knew it, the air was filled with Violet's explosive laughter.

"What on earth is wrong with you woman? You shriek worse than those mutant monkeys in the side show. What is so funny anyway?

Violet lay on the deck taking deep breaths before sticking her head down the hole again.

Forgive me, Mon Capitan; however, the grease smeared on your face looks very much like someone flipping me off, and I had to stop to wonder if you had done that intentionally to remind me that I'm always bothering you," she replied, wiping the tears of mirth from her eyes.

Sybil snorted in an attempt not to laugh, but her half smirk gave away her amusement.

"You know, I wish I could say I'd actually thought of that on purpose, as it's rather clever. However, it is just your foul mind that conjured such a shape from simple smears of grime," she replied, sticking out her tongue before taking a well-used rag to her face.

She rubbed for a full minute, hoping to erase any further imagined artwork on her face.

"What did you need?" she added, tucking the rag into her tool belt.

"I just wanted to tell you that the Void dude, Fox, said there was a supply train due to hit the Sadovka wall about when we should, and it might have stuff we can use on the trip. Also, he sent some ammo and MRE's," she said.

"Yum . . . mystery meat," Sybil replied, sarcasm dripping from her words like the grease from her fingers.

"Oh, be nice. I think he's sweet on you. Plus, we have no idea what could be out there, so any extra help is welcome," Violet lightly scolded.

"Oh, I have no problem with Fox, I'm just nervous is all. Forgive me? "Sybil said, extending her grimy hand in a gesture of friendship.

Violet regarded her hand, shook her head, and said. "I'll forgive you for the words, but girl, if you touch me with that hand, all bets are off."

Sybil smirked and shrugged.

"As you speak, so it shall be, my lady," Sybil said with an exaggerated bow.

"Sometimes, I'm pretty sure you're all sixes and sevens!" she said, sliding away from the edge.

"Only sometimes?" Sybil yelled up after her.

Shaking her head, Violet went back into the hold of the ship, working out provisions and the weights so they could adjust the ships settings accordingly. This was unlike anything they had ever done before. Well, there was that one guy they broke out of a deportation train bound for Sadovka, but that had been a paying job and the guy just wanted to be with his wife and baby and getting papers to leave Sadovka was very difficult. So, he had snuck in and gotten caught after three years. Sybil was a sucker for separated families, for obvious reasons.

But this, this was so different, flying deep into Sadovka, storming the castle, rescuing some man who had broken Sy's heart by abandoning her. Getting out alive, and finding some other sisters . . ., man, this was flat out crazy. Yet, it had never crossed her mind not to go. Or to try to talk Sybil out of it, not that, that was an easy task, but she had done it before.

No, she saw the danger ahead and simply stepped toward it. A jealous part of her mind whispered insecurities about Sybil dumping her for theses half-sisters, being as they were blood and all, but she pushed them away. Sybil was her sister, blood or no blood, and there was no way anything would ever come between them, she told herself. Trying perhaps to convince herself as much as possible.

"Your mind looks full," Sybil said from behind her, causing Violet to jump, which in turn avalanched a stack of sleeping mats.

"Could you please, for the love of the Goddess, find a way to make some Gorram noise when you walk!" she said, her face red with exasperation as she bent over to pick up the mats.

"I'm sorry Vi, I will put a bell around my neck from now on," she said, giving a soft smile. She recognized nerves were high and she wanted very much to try to reassure her friend that they would not only survive this unexpected journey, but they would triumph as well.

Bending over, she helped pick up the mats, looking for the right words, but simply unable to find them.

"Hey, thanks for sticking with me. No matter what this voyage brings in terms of family, you will always be my sister," she said, her eyes looking everywhere but at her friend's face. Sybil had a hard time expressing emotion, her mind was one of figures and concrete creations, it was hard to find the words to put with the emotional side.

"You zapped me," Violet said with a smile.

Sybil stuck out her tongue. She had a way of gathering thoughts from the people around her. She had no idea how she did it, and if she tried to focus it, it yielded nothing but a headache. But it was very common for her to say something only to have someone around her reply with, "I was just thinking that."

"You do know this is not going to be an easy thing? I looked over the plans Abe left. Even with that, there are a lot of Hail Mary moments in our future," Sybil said, stacking up the last of the fallen mats.

"No kidding, had he handed that plan to anyone else but you, I'd have said it wouldn't work, but I'm pretty sure that the 'great Captain Hook, ghost of the clouds,' can handle it," Vi said, her eyes smiling as she tried to keep her expression serious.

"Seriously, unless you want to undertake this voyage strapped to Calypso, I suggest you knock it off," she said, her face fighting the smile in her voice.

She referred to the copper mermaid statue that was the Valkyrie's figurehead. Violet had drawn it after reading an entire book about mermaids they had found in an old library in the barrens. Many of the books were burned, or damaged by the elements; however, there had been an underground section that was nearly intact. They had spent months cleaning it out and taking books to the resistance to hand out to families. The Imperiums were very strict about what books were handed out to the people. Even in Pendergrass, which was considered the most liberal of the three, they did not support independent learning.

Sybil had a fascination with mermaids. She wanted so much to someday sail the Valkyrie on the sea, but given the radiation levels in the water, she turned the sky into her ocean. So, she hammered and heated pulled and shaped copper until she had made an exact replica of Violet's sketch. She used it as a sun receptor to heat the water to make the steam for the engines. She was as functional as she was beautiful. Abraham had named her on the day they had taken Valkyrie into the sky for the first time.

"Hey, it's not my fault you are a hero to the people and thus worthy of their nicknaming skills," she replied.

"I'm not a hero. I just have the ability and skills to do things others cannot, and because of this I have responsibilities," Sybil said, parroting what her mother had been saying to her since before she could say it back.

Violet turned away to avoid letting her tears show. She missed April. She was the closest thing Violet had ever had to a parent in a long time and she'd heard her say that so many times to Sybil over the last four years. Violet was Native American by birth; her parents had died when she was just eight. The Native Americans had grouped together during the blasts. Delving into places buried and forgotten. Looking for the past, the Before Times that so many hoped someday would remerge.

They had been digging out some fallen church in the barrens. Violet closed her eyes; she could remember the way the warm sun had felt on her neck. She had been set up in an olive grove on a thick blanket. Random pieces of pottery lay gently around her, brush in hand she was attempting to clean the grime from a simple metal cross with a rather gruesome figure attached to it when she heard the first scream.

Workers began flooding from the tunnel, boils appearing on their skin. Looking up from the Jeep the Elders watched the chaos for a mere moment. Before Violet could make heads or tails of the situation, she was grabbed and roughly tucked up inside the coat of an Elder. He looked down at her frightened face. "Try to hold your breath little one, we may or may not survive this," he had said to her. The rest of that day was a jumble of running and hiding, being looked at by medics and put into isolation for days.

It was many years later before she discovered exactly what had happened to her parents and the others. While digging in the ruins they had come across an undetonated biological weapon. It had been set off as they attempted to move it. All of them had died within hours. They had been left behind to avoid spreading it to the camps as this was a long time before Chem runners had become organized and no medications were available to treat it.

Many of her tribe that had survived that night had been taken by the Menglan and his snatchers as they tried to find a place to call their own.

Heaven was a source of great fear to everyone. It was the only train not owned by Templar that was given use of the lines; and more importantly, could use the round houses at the walls that gave them pass into any Imperium. No local law could ever board it, and no one could question what went on aboard it or what happened to those unlucky enough to be given a ride.

But Violet knew, she knew about the stainless-steel tables with the deep wells in the sides for draining blood. The way the light glinted off the glass cabinet doors, Obscuring some, but not enough of the sharp cruel instruments inside. It was whispered about in harsh broken cries over covert fires as they ran from the snatchers.

Violet closed her eyes, taking the long deep breaths April had taught her after her abduction to ward off the nightmares. She had come close enough to finding out how real her nightmares were when they had been captured. Pushing the images from her mind, the last thing she saw was the fury in the eyes of Krieger as he stood shouting at them in his native language from the back of his train. They had rescued two others and a whole skid of antibiotics before taking their leave.

Sybil had brought them all back to the farm, the other two had moved into the town to start new lives. Violet had thought long and hard at that moment about life as an air pirate. However even after the capture and near death, she knew this was where she belonged. After all, Sybil had been down for weeks with her eye injury and it seemed the right thing to do.

It was not as though she felt indentured to Sybil or anything like that. It was a good life, a safe life, even with the raids and the flying, she was a Void. None of the Natives that had survived ever presented themselves to be marked. So being born to two Nulls had sealed her place on the outskirts of civilized life. Her place in life was tenuous and she had no desire to ever find herself in the grasps of the Mengelan again.

"Earth to Violet," a voice said, cutting into her thoughts.

"Sorry, just trying to take a mental inventory," she lied.

"Uh huh, daydreaming about running into that dashing Captain Barbarossa again. You are aware that is most likely, as in is not, his real name?" Sybil teased.

Violet laughed.

"With eyes like a clear blue sky, I don't care if his name is Captain Stinky Pants," she replied.

"Oh, seriously woman," Sybil laughed.

Both of their spirits had been lifted by the familiar banter.

"Now, instead of taxing your brain and you know, stealing thought power from Captain Stinky Pants, I suggest you use the inventory list I wrote up last night. It's on my desk. I'm going to hit the still and get some back up fuel. I have no idea if we are going to be able to find water in Sadovka, and I have no intention of staying there any longer than necessary," she said, disappearing without another word.

Violet stood in the semi-darkness a bit longer. Sybil was not wrong, she did occasionally devote a fair amount of brain power to Barbarossa, but the odds of running into him were low. It had only happened four times in four years, so he was more than safe to moon over without the threat of having to have an actual conversation with the man.

"You do know we are taking off at sunset, don't you?" Sybil yelled from the deck, spurring Violet into motion.

As many times as Sy told her that the Valkyrie was a much Violet's as it was hers, she always felt odd going into the captain's quarters. It was Sybil's sacred space, even when they were on the ground. She did a lot of her thinking and planning in this room. The walls had been lined with salvaged rugs and tapestries to insulate. When your entire ship is made of metal and runs on steam, extra precautions had to be made to keep from burning your skin. The cooling system she had put in place worked well above deck, plus the wind also tempered the metal. But when in flight, the insides could easily reach one hundred degrees.

Sitting in the center of the room was one of Sybil's most prized possessions. It was the Resolute desk; she had rescued it from a Templar holding facility near the Triangle. The Triangle was the only place where are three Imperiums merged. There was a massive storage facility where treasures from Before Times were taken. Sybil had crashed the gate hoping to find antibiotics, but instead she found paintings, statues, symbols, and flags. Many of the tin-foilers believed that Templar had these items moved before the blasts, hence giving them prior knowledge about the attacks.

Seeing nothing of real use, they had almost left empty handed, but then the desk caught Sybil's eye and she had to have it, it had almost been their undoing, as it was extremely heavy. It did, however, prove for an excellent first test of the sky hook system. It was something Sybil designed after busting out of Heaven as a system for being lowered onto or taking things from the ship while it was in the air. It was a rather simple winch and pulley system, the hook attaching to a sling that could be expanded to carry 4 people or a rather heavy stolen desk.

The whole experience did lead to larger cargo doors being placed in the bottom of the ship as it had almost not fit. Violet thought it a bit gaudy; however, Sybil had a strong dash of eccentricity, so it fit her.

She glanced at the top of the desk, every square inch was covered with maps and charts, her own notes on airflow and currents, half-drawn inventions and doodles.

"Get the inventory list, it will make it easier, she says . . . Easy my a—," she was grumbling when a voice from outside hollered in.

"It's on the right-hand side, under the drawing of that thing."

Violet could not stop rolling her eyes.

"You are oh so helpful, my Captain. You don't need a first mate, you need a bloody zookeeper," Violet muttered, reaching for the thing that seemed to be a list, only to cause a cascade of papers onto the floor.

"Sybil Josiah Carter, get your bum in here and help me find this paper, or so help me I will start organizing things!" she yelled.

The sound of pounding footsteps scurried across the deck. She heard a rather colorful curse as Sybil slipped past the door. They had installed a balsa wood floor on the deck of the ship, and it was still rather slippery.

After a moment, the door flung inward.

"What do you mean organize! This is perfectly in order and I can find anything on it that I wish!" Sybil said, looking confused as she hunted for the list.

"Well, I could have found it easily if you had not knocked everything over," she reasoned.

Violet laughed.

"I love you Sybil," she said, simply.

Pausing in her hunt Sybil looked up.

"I love you to Vi," she replied before digging into the piles of paper.
Chapter 6

No matter how heavy the doors, which were quite heavy, nothing could keep Lucy's voice from being heard down the hall as she raged. Distinct words were hard to make out, but anger was clear.

Mardrich and Asha stood in the hall.

"So, do you think we should go save the surgeon?" he asked.

"I think it's about time, she has been terrorizing him for nearly ten minutes and that's enough to give him nightmares," Asha said with a wink.

Mardrich hid his smile. He was not a fan of the man to begin with, so when he came to him and said he would not operate on the bird, he had insisted he tell the Princessa himself.

"You threw him under the bus," Asha said, stepping forward.

"Oh, if only there were still busses to actually throw him under," he replied.

"Oh!" Asha said with a smile, opening the door.

"Lucy may we come in?" she called as they stepped in, not giving her the option of saying no.

Mardrich coughed into his hand to hide the smile. The surgeon looked like he'd been beaten without taking an actual blow. His head hung in defeat and his hands trembled.

"Thank you, Senior Surgeon, that will be all," Asha said.

The man hurried from the room at such a pace that he made his own wind.

Lucy looked between the two people she considered family.

"I do hope you left some skin on the man," Asha said, turning towards the nest to see Kyros sitting up, his deep black eyes pulling her in as her daughter's so often did.

"He deserves to be thrown into the Maw," she said, crossing her arms in a rather petulant fashion.

"I'm not sure about that Princessa, I think he would have been foolish to operate on an animal he is untrained in. What if he had done more harm than good?" Mardrich asked, pulling some dried meat from his pocket to feed the bird who returned the favor with eager nuzzles.

"I just . . . I . . . he is so sad. He stares at the sky when I take him outside, his one wing flapping, the other hanging uselessly. It is breaking his heart," she said, unable to meet the eyes of her truest friend.

The owl clicked his beak several times, almost as if he was trying to talk to her. She turned away, unwilling to let any of them see the tears spilling down her cheeks.

Madrich did a quiet exam of the bird. His wing was badly damaged; he would need several replacement bones, plus the tendons to cover it.

"Princessa, I know how hard this is for you, and I do have an alternative to offer you; however, I do not think you will care much for it," Mardrich said, feeding the bird another scrap of dried meat.

"I would do anything to help him," she said, wiping angrily at the tears on her cheeks.

"There is a man, a Sadovkan man, his surgery skill is beyond compare. He could augment Kyros and return him to flying; however, he is a very bad man," he explained.

"You can't possibly mean The Mengelan? Krieger is not a man, he is a monster," Asha said, her arms entangling tightly to show her displeasure.

"I know, and I don't disagree. I'm just saying he is the only one I know of with the skills to accomplish what needs to be done here," he replied.

The large chamber seemed cramped, thick with emotion, unspoken needs weaving around each person as they fought with the ability to articulate them.

"How do I contact him?" Lucy said at last, her voice barely above a whisper.

"He will be arriving today or tomorrow, for the celebration," Mardrich said.

At the mention of the celebration, Lucy walked over to her desk calendar.

"I can't believe we only have four days until the celebration. I feel like I've been living in a fog,"

"Your mind has been occupied with caring for Kyros. Your gown is already made, and I've shooed away the fitters and preppers. I have assured the Lord Emperor that you will be more than ready to do the opening speech . . . which I have already written for you," Asha paused.

"I do not want the Mengelan near you. I hate enough that he calls the palace home and that sometimes I am under the same roof as him. I know, however, that you will do what you think is best. I ask only that you are never alone with him, and that you are armed," she finished, tilting her head to indicate the pair of sharpened hair sticks Lucy kept for special engagements.

Lucy met her mother's eyes, then rushed to her arms, pulling her in for a tight hug. Caught unaware by her daughter's uncommon show of affection, it took Asha a moment before she could return the hug.

"I promise mama, I will be careful, but you would do this for me, and he is my child," she said softly laying her head on her mother's shoulder.

"I will stay with the Princessa, also I will get one of the royal guards, a man I know to be good and loyal to the family, to stay with us," Mardrich said.

The idea of seeing Krieger nearly made him want to vomit. At one point during his insane experiments, he had wanted to extract animal DNA to fuse with humans. Mardrich had been called to his train to get the list of needed blood samples.

He had walked in mid-operation. Closing his eyes, he tried to shut out the image even as it illuminated his entire mind. A young woman had been lying on the table, her nude body reflecting the harsh florescent lights. Her eyes stared into his, glassy, unable to focus, but he could still see the fear in them. Krieger had turned to him.

"Ah, welcome. Give me just a moment to complete this. This woman you see has given birth to two sets of twins, both identical. I need to find out what it is about her body that causes this when all manufactured attempts at twins have failed," Krieger explained even though Mardrich would never have asked.

He made several incisions during which the woman moaned piteously. Seeing the expression on her face, Krieger waved his hand.

"She feels nothing. It is a simple Pavlovian response." Seemingly annoyed with what he was finding in her abdomen, he turned away, dropping his bloody gloves onto the tray.

"Sew her up, put her back in holding," he said, dismissively to his staff.

"Do you know the people call me? 'The Mengelan'?" he asked.

"I've heard it before," Mardrich said, looking everywhere but at the poor woman before him.

"People can sometimes be cruel," he added.

"Cruel! I think it's brilliant. I very much identify with Mengele; and the way I look at it, I am Mengele's angel. I have all the freedom he could have ever wanted to unravel the secrets," Krieger said.

Mardrich had walked out at that moment, never again placing himself in the same room with the man he had now offered as the only hope.

Asha looked from one to the other, hanging her head as she felt the weight of her chore settle on her.

"I will send for him; however, you will not, under any circumstances, have him to this room, nor is he to know where your room is. You are to tell him nothing about yourself. I'm sure he will be quite nosey, especially given your reputation. No matter what he says to you, you give him nothing. Are we clear?" Asha asked. She hated being so stern with her hurting child, but in the New Times, safety always came first.

"I will have a surgery room in the medical wing cleared. Kyros can recuperate there and then we will bring him back here," Mardrich said, understanding the Contessa's concern. Lucy had mutations, not that anything was visible, but she had abilities and that was Krieger's newest fascination. He would love to have a reason to put Lucy aboard Heaven.

"Then it's decided. How soon can this person be summoned to surgery?" Lucy asked.

"Krieger can be difficult to deal with; however, he will not question an edict from the office of the Lord and Leader. I will have him there for you this afternoon. Any payment he requests will be paid. He will fleece us to be certain; however, the coffers can afford the likes of him," Asha said.

Lucy nodded. Given that she had lived in the palace her entire life, she had never really used money. She knew the flow of it through the realms and its power in getting others to do what was needed. However, she could not remember the last time she had held currency in her hands.

*********

Krieger sat back, his feet propped on a fashionable stool, the sound it gave made him smile. He could not help but imagine that every creak was an old knee joint or arm bone protesting his weight. He had, had the insides of the stool fashioned from the bones of conjoined Velterrian twins.

He read the note again. It was from her; he had resigned himself to loving her from afar. After the disastrous attempt he had made to confess his feelings for her, he doubted he would ever see her again.

Now she was summoning him to the palace, to help her only child. He was permitted to augment animals and he would impress her with his skill and win her away from his pompous brother.

A flick of his finger rang a bell in Eli's quarters. He had been his assistant for nearly twenty years, and he knew how to dress to impress.

The mild screech of metal on metal let him know that Eli had arrived. He didn't even look up, he just held out the note for him to read. After giving him due time to consider the contents, he looked up at the only person he could even consider an acquaintance. Eli had once been a tall powerful man with deep black skin, and brilliant green eyes.

Now while still powerful, most of that came from the augmentation that Krieger had spent years testing. Eli, aside from the slight disfigurement, was one of his most prized possessions. The man could lift nearly a ton and he was as fast as Heaven on foot. His new eyes allowed him to see in the dark. He had not been entirely displeased when his vocal cords had been damaged when he was trying to fit him with the restraint chip. He sat back a moment and wondered, that without the chip, if this man who had been at his side for two decades would rip him to shreds.

"I want to look dashing, find my most becoming jacket and get out the new boots; also, I want pristine white scrubs, and my kit packed for wing augmentation. Just bring me the entire contents of drawer J-94, in my new leather bag, the one my brother sent me for the winter Solstice." Noting Eli's raised eyebrow, he paused.

"Yes, I know I said it was terrible, but she may have picked it out, I mean the lady can't be flawless, and bad taste is easily fixable with a few minor brain augmentations . . . I digress. Just put the instruments into the bag, I am expected in surgery in a few hours," he said, waving Eli away. Leaning back, he closed his eyes waiting to hear the faint screech telling him the door was closed.

Not that I mind anyone knowing that I use it, he thought.

I just don't want to share is all, his mind added.

He pulled the leather case from his drawer. It was long and thin, the latches starting to show wear from repeated openings and closings. Flipping it up slowly, he smiled. There was something about the ripples in the cerulean blue velvet that lined the case that always soothed the burn in his body. Many years operating, living on a train, and traveling constantly had caught up with him. He had arthritis in his hands and wrists, and he feared without the treatment it would be impossible for him to continue his work. Yet, as much as he needed it, he had to be careful. It could dull the mind, which was not good for his work. So, he had to learn the right amount, the right place to inject, the amount of time needed for his mind to return from the fog that filled it. It had taken years, and even some doctoring to the formula.

But he had it, he knew if he took it now, in the thigh, he would be ready to dazzle the Contessa and save this animal. Not to mention it would allow him to meet Lucy. He had heard many things about her, and he was curious to see if her eyes truly had the gray of a Before Times rainstorm.

He ran his fingers over the vial, watching the silver liquid glimmer under his fingers. Several strands of deep silver twisting and racing through the thinner liquid, pushing up against the top of the vial, searching for escape. The peasants called it Smoke. It was standard to give to his patients before experimenting; it was, after all, so hard to concentrate with them yelling and whining while he was working.

Being its creator, he had given it the name of Aether, and he treated many of the Imperiums top-level people with it, as well as those who could pay. That ridiculous air pirate had stolen a vile and rumor had it that many strains had spun into being since then.

Aether was a warm hallucinogenic. Once shot up, the user was full of the kinds of thoughts that just wrap their arms around you and cradle you into another time and place, and it was this reason it was most commonly referred to as Drift. The courtesans who enjoyed the drug as their own release from reality called it Lace for its delicate simplicity. Less refined strains were purchased by the street kids, dirty and looking to hide in the corners of their own imaginations, they shot up Menagerie as groups and shared the experiences as they happened. Everyone had their own word for Aether because everyone had their own strain: Grease for the gearheads in the mills, Lacrimal for the students trying to be clever, Static for the poets in search of their muse. Addiction came easy for those who sought it out, and so the unfortunate fools who found their reality in the folds of its were called Sparkz.

He had found it much easier to seduce the addicts onto Heaven with the promise of the pure, father strain. When that failed, he would just snatch them as they floated through its silvery void. He had been angry when the girl had bested him and stolen his creation. But in the end, it had proven to be very profitable in the way of new subjects. It also seemed to enhance mutations. That was the goal of his next trip out after the celebration. He wanted to see if he could evolve the mutations, make them more of use. Force the next evolution.

Alone with his thoughts, he drew up the vial, the flickering steam lantern causing the glitter to dance, its hypnotic swirls engaging a part of his mind that needed no further command. Without direction, the needle was piercing at the perfect depth, the momentary burn of the liquid causing every nerve ending in his body to catch fire, was blessedly replaced by the smooth silver light that pulled him in, pulled him away. As the fog set in, he clutched a worn picture of the Contessa on the day she became favored wife. Her coal black hair cascading down her back, its thick inky waves free, moving with their own force.

The Aether carried him away, to the place where he shared a love with her. She was his Contessa, and nothing could withstand the power of their passion.

***************************************************************

Feeling the hand gently touch his shoulder, Abraham was immediately awake. He'd dozed off quickly, but his senses were well trained and waking quickly had saved his life many times over the years.

"Glad you could catch some rest. We took you to just an hour east of the city, little further than I planned, yet you looked so peaceful resting and I remember how precious safe sleep can be," the General said.

"I sent word through the chain to Ching to let her know you were safe and headed to her. I have little doubt she was crawling the walls waiting to know if you got her message. I did not want her do anything rash when the cavalry was on the way," he added.

Abraham laughed.

"You really do know Ching Carter, don't you?"

"I know she's a remarkable young lady, with a heart of gold and the patience of a gnat," he replied. Getting out of the car, they all moved around, the two military men standing beside the Jeep.

"We put an emergency pack in the back, just in case. I'm sure Ching is well stocked, but you never know what you may come across," he said, peering into the window at Abe.

"I wish you luck, Abraham Jones. I'm not sure any of our lives will be the same after the centennial celebration. For some that may be good, but I worry for others. No one from Templar is looking for you, so for right now your cover and credentials are good. Sempre fedele. I hope to see you again," he said, walking away before any questions could be asked.

Abe took a deep breath. Part of him had so many questions for theses Nulls, especially what he meant about life changing or how he knew his cover had not been blown. Yet, the rest of him knew he had to get to Ching before she did indeed give up waiting for him and scaled the Vatican.

Flipping on the lights, he started up his Jeep. The steam engines did not go as fast as gasoline had, but he could still make a decent clip at around sixty MPH. His mind swirled. The closer he got, the more paranoid he became. Every shadow was an ambush; the General may be wrong.

He felt like they should know that Templar should know about what Josiah was up to, about the girls, and the many cross-border trips retrieving strange artifacts to put into the bunker in Pendergrass. They were an agency built on power and knowledge and to not notice that one of their test subjects was out making random children and that two rogue squadrons had started taking orders from a man who insisted he only be listed as private Josiah Carter.

What if they do know? What if Josiah was put in place as a special forces leader and this is part of his mission, that the girls are part of the greater purpose he sometimes talked about in his sleep. Perhaps that's why he's been able to travel unencumbered back and forth without orders many times. His mind swirled over that thought, the rage at being used a pawn stirred in him. How long had it been since Markov had given him an actual assignment? Years it had to have been. He would ask him to follow a supply train or scout a scarce threat, all things that gave him and his men plenty of time to be in uninhabited parts of the realms, giving them free range to pick up forgotten pieces of the past. Originally, they had simply helped settle groups, helped towns become stable, and that had taken a lot of time, years in fact. Even back then Josiah would get a "line" on some cool Before Times stuff and he always had a way of convincing everyone to go along, like an Indiana Jones adventure.

Over the years, the team had broken up, many had retired after their promised years to settle in an Imperium that they liked. The squad was officially retired just over two years ago. Since then, it had been vague assignments and really following Josiah on his insane rather random cross-continent quest for some trinket or another.

His mind drifted back to the last time he had seen Josiah at the Sadovkan wall.

"I mean it, this is it. This will complete everything I've been working to find, for the girls, and the world. It will mean an entire truth. Not what the Imperiums or Markov feed us," Josiah had said, clutching a rather odiferous notebook that looked as if it had been buried in camel dung.

"Man, every time we go into Sadovka after something we always come back empty, usually shot and escorted out by the imperial guard," Abe pointed out, leaning up against his battered Jeep.

"While I cannot say that you are wrong, or that this will be any different, I have to go. Somewhere in that fortress of the Emperor is the last bit I need. Then . . . then the real adventure begins. We will find lost worlds, being together, the people against the overlords, forge ourselves a new . . .," Josiah went on, waving his hands in the air.

"Brother, you are starting to sound like Markov. I'm going to suggest you lie down, or drink something strong, or you know . . . bounce your head off a wall until you start to make sense again," Abe interrupted.

Josiah just paused, his manic expression abated, and his smile returned.

"Just trust me this time Abe. No more scavenger hunts, no more sneaking in and out of places, no more Templar toadies for us. I just need you to tell Markov that I'm doing some recon in the Sadovkan steam mines, possible sabotage, in and out of contact. Give me at least two weeks.

Abe crossed his arms and smiled sadly.

"One of these days your adventures are going to get us killed. They already have a way of getting us in trouble," Abe said.

"I'll head back to the Vatican and give him your message. But man . . . I have a feeling he's not going to be thrilled," Abe said, regarding the gleam in his friends' eye which meant Abe could stand here and recite the constitution and Josiah would hear none of it.

He would have called it Gold Rush fever if there had been any profit to his strange missions or any worth to his warehouse full of documents, statues, pieces of machinery. Hell, they even had an entire old cruise ship in dry dock. His collection was eccentric, and to everyone but him, a pile of junk.

"Thanks man, hey see if you can get Jia taken off the short list for the Bio project. Markov is up to her nose to work on his new weapons plan and that's not something she will want to participate in," he said, tucking the notebook as he pulled his bag from the back of the Jeep.

"I don't know how much pull you think I have with that man; I will remind you that our squadron is not known for following the chain of command," he replied, eyeing the Templar guard who was attempting to listen in on them while looking like he wasn't.

"Yeah, that may be true, but I know that we still hold the highest number of towns that exist because we made them. Or the fact that we are responsible for nearly all the Pendergrass settlements in the Colorado and Montana quadrants. He may not like us, but he can't argue with the work we have done for Templar. Both of us could have opted out with the rest of the guys when our tour was up. Yet, we stayed, we completely folded that Hells Angels resistance in the lower California quad. We . . ." he listed.

Abraham held up his hand.

"Okay man, I get it, they owe us, and I will talk to Markov when I get back. I'm going to make a swing through Pendergrass, check on April and the child. Visit the marker. He's been after Jia for a while, so he won't push anything until after this show of Sadovkian nonsense is over," he said. He knew the longer he allowed Josiah to talk the more things he would find himself agreeing to.

Josiah nodded before he embraced Abe tightly.

"Thank you, man. Thank you for the care you take of the girls and for visiting the marker. I need to get that way more often," he said, the sadness in his eyes threatening to spill out. Releasing his commander, he walked to the gate, never looking back, but giving a rather intimidating glare to the foot soldier who had been trying to nose in on officer's conversation.

That had been three weeks ago, two days after the two weeks mark. He had received the emergency signal and had begun mobilizing the girls. Now he had to get Ching and get into Sadovka. Easy, right?

Abe sighed as he saw the signs of life springing up before him. Some had taken advantage of the big estates being empty, moving in to live in perceived luxury, but most stayed in the apartment buildings, easier to defend, and connected to the underground escape tunnels.

The sun was glaring overhead. It must be nearly mid-day; which was almost as dangerous as trying to navigate theses streets in the dark. Shifts at the factories changed at noon. Many works heading in would be crowding the streets. As school was not mandatory in Velletri, many children clogged the streets. His clip slowed to a crawl. Liberal use of the horn got him nearly to the small Villa of the Carter family before he had to give up, pull off, and park.

Walking on foot, he realized this was not just the normal work crowd. The streets were clogged, and many people carried packs. Several horses were visible. It looked like a migration. Panic welled up in his throat. Had there been another attack? Why were these people fleeing? He grabbed a young man in his twenties by the arm, pulling him in close.

"What is going on here?" he demanded, his voice low, his eyes noting those who were watching him.

"Whoa, unevo. We are headed to Sadovka, to celebrate. What Templar rock have you been under? Two days, man . . . If we want to make it, we must get to the train station. The Contessa is giving anyone who wants to go a free ride on the transport trains," he said, shaking himself loose of Abe's grasp.

"Sorry, I've been out in the field a lot, I guess I lost track of the date. Thanks." Abe said, absently weaving his way through the throng to Ching.

If they could make it in time, this mass transit could prove useful in getting Jia and Ching out under Markov's nose, he thought as he raised his hand to knock on the solid oak door.

Before his fingers could contact the wood, the door was yanked open by Ching, who looked like she last had a good night's sleep about ten years ago.

"Ch-" Abe started before she had wrapped her arms around him, collapsing into sobs.

He moved her quickly inside as the last thing he wanted at this point was to be memorable to anyone.

"Ching honey, I know you're scared, but I promise we will get your mom back and I will get you to your dad in Sadovka. However, there are a few things I need to tell you first," Abe said, leading her to the settee and motioning to Constantine to get her a drink of water.

"Thank you for coming," Ching said, gathering her emotions together, shoving them back behind her mask of control.

"I was headed here anyway, but your signal hastened my arrival, as well as introduced me to the General," he said, offering her the water Constantine had handed him.

"I was so pleased to hear that you were so close,' Constantine said before folding his long limbs into a seated position on the floor beside Ching.

"I left your sister Sybil Josiah Carter in Pendergrass, giving her the information on the existence of her father, of you, and of your third sister. I've asked her to meet us in Sadovka to rescue your father," he said, laying it all out.

Ching was a no-nonsense kind of girl and she would only be annoyed if he tried to lead her into it.

For a moment, he was unsure that she had heard him as her expression did not change, not even an eye twitch.

"This is why he leaves for so long; he goes to have other lives with other families," Ching said, her eyelashes moist with another impending tear flow.

"Actually, he has never seen either child. Sybil lives alone in Pendergrass, now that her mother has passed. She is an air pirate, commonly known as Captain Hook. Lucy is the daughter of the favorite wife of Emperor Gregor; however, she is really your half-sister, her mother being pregnant before she was married to the emperor. She is a top diplomat and policy maker in the Sadovkan cabinet. All three of you were inexplicable born on the same date, one of you was dangerously early, one aggravatingly late, and one of you right on your due date. You all share your father's gray eyes, his temper, and . . . hmm, let's call it his enthusiasm. Now, I will have more time to answer your questions once we get Jia and get out of here. I have what is turning into a ghost of a plan. Do you know who she saw when she went to Templar yesterday?' he asked, knowing he'd given her a lot of information to digest but he needed her focused.

"She saw Markov, he sent for her with a red summons, like she was criminal. Which I guess in a way, if she had cooperated with him, she would have been. He wants her in on this mass biological weapon. I bet the Countess would like to know what he is up to. If he gets found out, the other Imperiums would cut us off," Ching said, her face becoming animated as her fire returned.

Abe nodded.

"Okay, here is my plan. Pack everything you can, nothing too heavy or awkward, make sure you have your weapons hidden. I will go for Jia. I'm going to have to break her out of the VIP barracks, if that's even where she is; but we will cross that issue when we come to it. The point now is to get her, get out, get on the train and out of Sadovka tonight," he said, pulling out a piece of paper and laying it on the table.

For the next several hours, the house was extremely busy, although no one watching would know, as the lights were dimmed, and the curtains drawn. Nulls and Voids came and went, bringing supplies, taking things they would need to manufacture the medications while Ching was away. Her replacement chemist did manage to catch components on fire only once.

Plans were made, distractions planned, and by the time night fell, everyone seemed completely at ease with the fact that they were about to take on Templar, the largest and best armed security force in all the New World.

Abe looked at the eager faces around him. Ching had made herself a good many friends, no one here was required or bound to help, but they all stood willing to die to get their friend and woman, to whom many owed their lives or the lives of their families, to safety.

Abe saluted Ant-Man and nodded to Ching as he slipped out the door into the night. Getting back into his Jeep, he put on a tired expression, which was not altogether a fake. Even the precious rest the General had afforded him was not enough to recharge his batteries completely anymore. Growing old was hell on the body.

Pulling up to the side employee gate, he waited for the guard to come out and scan him. He fought the knot growing in his stomach, remembering all too well the look on the guard's face back at the wall when the scanner had beeped. This entire plan hinged on him still being an employee of Templar Industries who could move around this compound freely.

He stuck his arm out the window, meeting the eyes of the guard who also looked like he could use a nap. Passing the light over his code, he waited as the information populated on the screen. To Abe's relief, no beep followed the transmission. He let out the breath had been holding slowly, not wanting to give away that he had been nervous in the first place.

"Well, Captain Abraham Jones, other than a note here to check in for your annual physical, and this is your fourth reminder, it looks like you're clear to go hit your bed," he said, offering a weary smile of commiseration.

"Thank you, Private. You know, I'm going to keep avoiding that physical till they get a doctor with hands that are not freezing!" he said, with a wink which caused the Private to laugh.

"Amen to that, Sir. Have a good night," he said, stepping back into the guard house, he retracted the gate via a small wheel located inside the guard shack.

Abe smiled widely; his relief was palpable. His mouth completely dry, but he had made it. Making sure to follow his normal routine exactly, he dropped off the car in motor pool, checked his mail, and hit the mess hall for coffee. It took every ounce of control not to grab the staffing manager and make him tell him where Jia was. He just nodded to the man before heading up to the command deck. With luck, Markov would be viewing the evening outpost reports and he could strike up a friendly conversation.

He was halfway up the stone stairway; he loved the sound his footfalls made on the ancient stone. It made him feel like he was part of something immortal.

"Stop, Captain Jones," a stern voice said, jerking him out of his thoughts. Abe weighed his options: He could run and hope to make it to the VIP barracks before all the alarms started blaring, or he could keep walking and hope he made it to his room before whoever it was caught up with him. Given the number of alarms inside the compound, he decided to keep walking.

He made it a few steps, feeling relief wash over him when a hand clamped down on his shoulder. Fight or flight flooded his body, every nerve on standby, muscles twitching, reminding him of his own power.

Turning around in what he hoped seemed a calm fashion, he found himself face to face with Markov himself. He put on his ever-present sarcastic smirk.

"Just the man I was looking for," Abe said calmly.

"Excellent, saves time then, want to head up to the command deck with me? I was just about to review evening outpost reports and I have a new assignment for you," Markov said, walking past him, his heavy gait echoing off the stone walls.

The two men wound their way up to what was once the Bishop's chamber, popes had been chosen in this room. Abe stopped in the doorway. Although it was now a tactical command center filled with machines and screens, he closed his eyes, thinking of the godly men who had used this space to dictate laws and practice to one of the largest Before Times religions. Some still held to God and the bible, but most were now followers of the Devil's Maw. It was said that God abandoned man when he saw them killing each other, wantonly destroying his creations. The Devil took pity on man as he was also aware of God's wrathful judgment and brought forth the steam from the earth to allow man another chance at civilized life; so, he was worshiped. There was an entire religious order, not that different from the priests of Before Times, except now women were also allowed in. Practitioners of the Maw were greatly revered. They had elaborate rituals that involved sweat lodges and visions. From what Abe could tell, it was a mashing of all previous religions to find a fit for the new world.

Markov barking for the evening report brought him from his thoughts and he hurried along after the man. Seating himself to the right of his boss at the conference table, he took a long look at the man who had helped shape the new world.

Years ago, when they had first met, he had been a fit man; not overly tall, but his body spoke to many of hours in the gym. His hair had been thick and black, his olive skin a testament to his mother's Sicilian ancestry. His current girth spoke to free range of rations and the political privilege he had been afforded. He had most likely not spent a hungry night in the After Times. Generous amounts of gray were sprinkled through his still thick black hair. An old scar ran across his neck, the taunt skin silver and smooth. To hear him tell it, he was ambushed by five or six huge bandits who tried to slit his throat and he escaped using only his bare hands and wits. Abe was not sure what the actual story was, but he was rather sure that Markov's version was a lot more fantasy than reality.

Markov looked over the report, sipping his coffee slowly. Abe knew he was watching him. Markov liked to think he could read people, so Abe made a point of looking tired but relaxed.

After a brief glance at the page, he turned to look at Abe.

"Man, you look tired," he observed.

"I wanted to get back here. I was thinking about asking for some time off to go to the celebration in Sadovka," he lied, hoping it would buy him some time and get him some supplies to head out with.

Markov nodded.

"Yeah. I have to go to that myself. The Countess wants us to put in an appearance and lean on Gregor to lower steam prices," he shrugged.

"The assignment I have for you can wait until you get back. I'm also going to need Carter. I know he's probably off on some fool treasure hunt and told you to cover for him. Some of the time he brings in useful stuff, which is why I often look the other way. However, this is a delicate operation and I need the two of you to complete it," he continued.

Abe nodded, grateful that he did not actually have to provide an excuse for Josiah.

"He is already in Sadovka, so I can bring him back with me after the celebration."

Markov nodded.

"Good, I have to leave here first thing in the morning. I'm leaving Frohike in charge while I'm gone. Although I expect everything to be rather quiet and we have already moved all the extra troops, we will need to keep the peace.

"I want the two of you back by Reckoning Day. This mission will become extremely time sensitive after the celebration," he added.

Abe leaned in closer, his mind had been wondering, but the dark undertone in Markov's voice had caught his note.

"Oh?" he asked.

"Yes, but you know I hate explaining myself more than once, so we shall have a briefing when I have both of you back here," he said, his eyes flicking to the paper in front of him.

"I'm going to go get some rest and cleaned up so that I can head out early in the morning tomorrow then, so I have time to track Josiah down and pull him out of whatever dusty spider filed ruin he's digging around in." Abe said, wanting to find Jia and try to get out of here. Now, since he had permission to leave, he should be able to get them decent transportation to the wall.

"Oh . . . and do me a favor, go see the Doc. He has been up my nose about your overdue physical," Markov added, coffee dribbling from the side of his mouth as he took a long swig.

Abe nodded, trying to hide his disgust. Markov's life had only been improved by the destruction of the world. Templar answered to no one. He held the heads of the Imperiums hostage. They need Templar to provide infrastructure, security, and medication production.

Abe shook his head as he thought, the adage was true, he with the guns makes the way, or something like that.

Abe raised his fingers to his brow in a half salute. Markov nodded with a grunt of approval before picking up more reports.

Abe walked down the stairs towards his room. He kept his steps even and light, not wanting to appear like he was anything other than tired. This was supposed to be his home, his base. Yet, it had never felt more alien to him, every set of eyes that passed over him knew what he was planning. At any moment the alarms would blare, and he would be thrown into the brig. These thoughts were screaming through his mind.

Yet, he just commanded his feet to move, step by step. Nearly running into the door to his own barracks, as he was so focused.

He had been trying to work out how to find Jia. He knew she would not be kept with the prisoners. Even Markov could not list her as a criminal without a proceeding. Not that he wouldn't and could not come up with some crime to hold her in the Vatican until he got what he needed from her. He just simply had not had time to do so.

If I were him, I'd just leave her in the contamination area until after the celebration. Then he could claim that perhaps she went to Sadovka and something had happened. Or perhaps he wanted something out of Josiah and wished to use her as leverage. There was no way to tell with him.

Lost in thought, he fumbled with his keys, dropping them twice before realizing he really was exhausted.

"Psst," a soft whisper came from a deep alcove.

Abe rubbed his eyes. Looking up, he saw nothing.

I need a damn nap or stronger coffee he thought.

"Psst." The sound came again. This time he stepped further down the stone hall. These were referred to as the officers' quarters. They had once been the cells belonging to the higher-level religious officials. The halls were all the same on this level. Labyrinths of winding, thick, dark stone. Searching again for the sound, he almost called out to ask what the game was about when the tiniest glint of light caught his eye.

Someone was hidden behind a rather large and ostentatious statue of a previous pope. Noting that no one else was around, he moved closer.

"Hello?" he called softly.

"Make sure you are alone and meet me in the medical wing in thirty minutes. I know where Jia is," the voice replied.

"Who are?" he began.

"Just get yourself together and be ready. Time is so much more of an issue than you realize," the voice said again, its grating whisper showing annoyance at his dallying.

Abe nodded.

He had absolutely no reason to trust a whispered voice from behind the face of a dead pope, but whoever this was, they knew a lot of what was going on and he could use the help. Glancing around again, he slipped into his room.

Before turning the light on, he knew someone had been in his quarters. Nothing was immediately visible as out of place or missing; yet, he could feel a forging presence, a lingering sensation of another energy.

Unable to come up with a concrete reason for this feeling, he sighed deeply.

"Cracking up, man. You're cracking up," he whispered.

As Abraham rushed to gather his few personal items and all the gear, he thought he could possibly need in his room, Ching was packing up her entire life into two small bags and every available pocket of her pants.

Watching her from across the room, Constantine smiled at her.

"I swear to you woman, you could run an entire revolution out of your pants."

She stuck her tongue out at him but smiled, thankful for a break in her tense thoughts.

"Before this is over, I may just have to. Anything from Abe?" she asked, gesturing her head towards the radio com he had left her to give the signal to head for the train.

"Nothing yet," he said. Deep lines settled into her face showing her annoyance.

"Don't worry Lotus, Abe is the best. Plus, we have not heard any blaring alarms, explosions, and no one has busted in here to arrest us. So, I'm pretty sure everything is still going to plan," he said.

"You know, you really need to work on your reassuring speeches," she replied.

The banter between them was familiar and comforting. They had been inseparable most of their lives. Many had expected romance between the two and had been more than a bit surprised when Ant-Man and the Shadow were noted together.

"You know I'm not done with Markov. Once mom and dad are safe, I intend to see that his little dictatorship ends," she said, pacing as she could find no more room in anywhere to pack anything.

"I don't see that as a bad thing, and you know you will have the backup. Perhaps we can use some of the time we are in Sadovka to recruit some of the Voids there for help," he suggested.

"They have far bigger problems, but who knows?" Ching shrugged, checking her watch for nearly the hundredth time. It was 10:30 pm. Abe's timeline put him heading to the train station no later than midnight, and if she had not heard from him by then, they were to leave.

"We have like . . . two backup plans. This will work," Constantine said, peeling an apple in a long, thin, continuous strand.

Ching watched the peel spiral around, its thin lines reminiscent of the cogs that held the New World together.

"Correction. We have three back up plans and I'd have preferred a fourth."

"Seriously, how many things can possibly go wrong that we would need a fourth back up plan?" he asked, slightly incredulous. He knew Ching liked to plan, but they had never gone beyond plan C in any of their operations.

"I don't know, but you know, if anything, we have ever attempted was to need a plan D, I would think this would be it," she said, her tone solemn as she lifted the corner of the window drape to peer out into a pitch-black street.

******************************************************************

Abe dropped the curtain on his window. It was time.

Walking as quietly as his boots would allow down the mostly deserted halls, he made his way towards the medical wing. The two large duffels were unwieldy, and after a moment's thought, he decided it was best to head to the motor pool. Get a fresh Jeep, pack his things, then go get Jia. If he had to move out quickly, it would be much easier if he was not encumbered with a large amount of weaponry.

It was nearly a forty-minute drive to the train station, and it was now nearly eleven. He needed to be out that back gate no later than midnight. The train out did not leave until six am; however, given his traveling party, he wanted extra time to get them settled and well-hidden before the scanning patrol came through. Heading for the large lines of cookie cutter Jeeps, he paused as a shiny black hummer caught his eye.

No one had really driven those in the New Times, given how much gas-and most of the time, diesel-that they took to run. Curiosity was strong, but time was not on his side. Filing it away for further thought, he walked up to the desk guard, who was involved in a lively game of pegs with another off-duty officer.

"Sorry to bust up your entertainment guys, but I need to sign out a Jeep. I'm heading to Sadovka to party and I want to get a jump start on the crowds at the wall," he said, over-explaining himself in nervous chatter as he filled out the form.

The guard looked up briefly at him, glanced over the form, waved the scanner over his arm and handed him the keys without more than an acknowledging grunt before settling back into his game.

Abe smiled as he walked away. So far, so good.

Stowing the bags, he pulled the Jeep out. He knew that there were so many other sounds inside the compound as Templar was never completely shut down. But on a cold, crisp December night, every creak of the shocks sounded like the shot heard around the world.

Pulling alongside the delivery entrance to the medical wing, he debated against leaving the Jeep idling. Yet, that would most likely draw notice. Every inch of his body was on fire, weariness jogged from his bones by a burst of adrenaline. Despite all the danger, Abe smiled. He missed the days of chases and hunts, near misses, discoveries paving the new frontier. This rush was a whole lot harder to find filling out paperwork on supply convoys.

He could almost hear Josiah singing his damn AC/DC songs in the back seat as they raced from, or after, whatever danger was on them at that moment. Not that he was in the shape or mindset to go back to that life permanently; but man, it felt good to be back in the game.

Hopping out, he headed into the deserted clinic lobby. He had a cover story if anyone other than his mystery invitee was to come across him. This place was so different than anywhere else in the Vatican.

Yes, charts and maps, steam machines and wheels, cogs and brass, had replaced the microchips and digital screens. Yet, here, it was like Before Times. Shiny scientific equipment stood as silent sentinels lining the halls.

Gone were the more grimy and garish aspects of everyday life in the New Times. Perfectly polished, white tile adorned every surface. Florescent lights, which to his knowledge were found nowhere else in any of the Imperiums, flooded every inch with harsh glare. Molded chairs sat empty, waiting for the next group of uncomfortable customers.

Disease was a serious thing in the New World. Given the unexpectedness of Reckoning Day, many things like vaccines and medications were lost in the shuffle. New and mutated viruses, born in the glow of radiation, infected and killed many. Outbreaks were treated as security risks. Thousands had been brought here in promise of containment and cure only to be sent to maw for disposal.

A nurse walked out, her crisp, white uniform blending in with her surroundings. Her hair was pulled back smartly under a tight white habit, very similar to the ones the nuns had worn. The lower portion of her face was covered by a paper face mask; which he guessed, given what they saw in here, was not a bad precautionary measure. Her expression was not one of surprise, and she nodded curtly.

"Thank you, Captain Jones, for finally showing up for your physical, even if it is in the middle of the night. Please follow me," she said, picking up a clipboard she walked down the long hall, her clipped steps echoing.

Abe froze, this was not what he had expected. Yet, there was no one else here, and if this was not the rendezvous he was waiting for, then the worst that would happen would be for him to slip out when they asked him to undress and having to find Jia on his own.

He walked after her, his eyes alert. Several orderlies and other nurses walked past him, but none seemed overly interested in his presence, even at this time of night.

She stopped short, causing Abe to run up on her heels. Whirling around she faced him, their faces inches apart when he realized it was Jia!

"I will thank you, Captain Jones to not run me down. Now, it says here you need blood work; would you like to do that first or last," she said, putting just a touch of emphasis on the word first.

"Uh . . . first please?" he said, completely unsure of what was going on, but more than willing to play along as the hardest part of his task was standing in front of him.

"Very well then. Follow me. Once we are finished in the decontamination room, please report back to room six for your exam," she said, turning on her heel. She started down the corridor towards DeCon, which just happened to be near the loading bay doors. This had been done for the ease of loading out the dead; but now, it was a happy circumstance.

Everyone who had been out in the field for over a month had to have their blood work done in Decon. It was unknown how many new and wonderful parasites bred in the world now and Markov was taking no chances of having his precious citadel brought down by a 'worm.' Or so his long speech to outgoing groups always went.

They passed through double steel doors, the ingrained smell of antiseptic rising from the tile, the florescent lights glinted off the stark empty trays just waiting for the instruments of their trade to be placed upon them.
Chapter 7

Lucy closed her eyes as the sharp sting of the antiseptic reached her. She was being gowned for surgery as she had insisted on being in the room. The Menglan had arrived an hour earlier, though she had yet to see him. Mardrich stood several feet away looking incredibly uncomfortable in his surgical attire. Lucy's eyes flicked towards the nurses; she knew none of them. She had never actually been in this part of the fortress before. The several times she had been sick, the family doctor had always come to her. She, nor her mother, had ever had surgery, so she had, had no reason. Her eyes danced over the stark gray tile, there was no warmth in this place. Crisp, sharp air mirrored the wicked looking implements on the tray. Kyros lay on an operating table, his body so still as the attendant administered the sleeping gas. She fought the urge to rush over and pull him into her arms, by learning the faces of those around her.

The head nurse stood out; her scrubs were white while everyone else wore a soft blue. Her eyes darted over the tables, taking mental stock. Having never worked with the Mengelan, she wanted everything to be perfect. His rages were legendary, and she had no desire to feel his wrath, especially over the life of some pampered royal pet. Feeling eyes upon her, she looked up to meet the scrutinizing gaze of the Princessa. She nodded curtly. Many were impressed with the Emperor and his large family. She had heard many things about this Princessa, and while she was curious, she would not allow her to think she was important. This was her operating theater and her reputation was spotless. She had never lost a patient. She assumed it was her record that had, had the Countessa request her for this procedure.

Lucy met the woman's eyes. She was overcome with a feeling of efficiency and order. It sometimes happened that she would pick up people's personality traits if she looked into their eyes. It helped a great deal in the matter of treaties to be able to tell if someone was trustworthy.

Before she had a chance to feel out the others the doors swished open with a bang and a man stepped through. Lucy's eyes flew to his face, and for a moment confusion took over. Why was the Emperor in surgical dress? Looking closer, she realized that while this man's features were nearly identical to the Emperor's, there were subtle differences. Just enough to make it clear that the man before them was not their lord and leader, but one of the most feared men in all the Imperiums.

He glanced around the room quickly, seeming rather uninterested in the supporting cast of characters. Lucy stared hard at him. This man was a monster, a plague on the people of the Imperiums. He handed his bag to the head nurse, from which she withdrew instruments of the most wicked sizes and shapes, laying them, with a disconcerting thunk, on the tray.

For the first time in her life, Lucy truly felt afraid. An aura of pure evil rolled off this man in waves. Just being near him triggered every fight or flight response her body was capable of. Stepping sharply backwards, she collided with another nurse who looked annoyed at her seemingly squeamish reaction.

Lucy offered no apology or explanation. She slid further back, grateful for the cold, solid tile of the walls. Closing her eyes, she pushed back and away from the vibes, steeling her body and mind from his influence. He was a dangerous man, in more ways than one. She would be grateful when this was all over, and he was sent back to his train.

The Mengelan smirked behind his mask. He was right about the girl. She was a mutant and if she was not the only child of the woman he loved, he would find a way to get her aboard Heaven. Without being obvious, Krieger scanned the rest of the masked faces in the room. He did not think his Contessa would be present, but he was always hopeful. As he looked up, he noted this operating room was a theater and seated up in the gallery, he saw her.

Krieger was not a man of visible emotion; yet, had anyone caught his eyes as they passed over Asha, a fiercely terrifying obsession could be seen. Krieger himself would call it love, others would define it as an all-consuming fire that fueled nearly every one of his actions, whether he was aware of it or not.

Asha fought the urge to pull away from his gaze. She had her expected dutiful love for the Lord and Master, but this creature, while twin to the Lord, was pure evil. He had professed his love to her one evening, begging her to run away with him. She had at first politely refused, stating her faithfulness to the Lord and Leader and her duties as favored wife. This had only angered him. He began ranting and raving, incoherent half-tales of his brother's favoritism by his parents and insults delivered mostly in broken Russian. She closed her eyes, pushing away the memory. She had truly hoped that her eyes would never again set upon this man; however, Mardrich was right. If anyone could save Kyros, it was Krieger and she feared for her daughter's sanity should that animal die.

More so, she feared for Nakari. So far, she had been able to distract Lucy with getting Kyros stabilized, but should she lose him or the Mengelan be unable to help him, he was going to be the target of her wrath and there was nothing that could be done to save him.

Her eyes searched the room for Lucy. She was surprised to find her at the edges of the room, pacing like a cat, her eyes never leaving the body of the bird. Asha had missed the reaction her daughter had experienced being near Krieger, but she could tell she was unnerved. Lucy was not squeamish. It would not be the sight of blood that was keeping her back. Mardrich also seemed to notice her reticence, and despite his own hatred of Krieger he moved in beside the man. He knew of Krieger's obsession with Asha, as he had been the one to toss the man out into the grounds the night, he had gone nutter. He did not want a mistake made because this idiot was showing off.

Krieger, however, was aware of none of this. He floated away as the melody pulled him in. The soothing feeling of blade to flesh, even the presence of his Contessa could not pull him out of the rapture of destroying and crating. For all his faults, which were many, Krieger was a skilled surgeon, top of his trade, and a true craftsman when it came to augmentation.

Lucy watched intently, never taking her eyes from her friend's limp body, focusing the turbulent emotional stream inside her, pushing it out towards Kyros in what she hoped was a healing flow.

Nearly three hours into the surgery, weariness began to show on all faces but Krieger's. He was still lost in the flow of mending.

Lucy's eyes grew heavy. She has slept little the night before and the silence and standing of the surgery were weighing on her. She slipped to the back of the room, making sure to still have a direct view of the table, but to be far enough from that monster that the ill feeling did not overwhelm her again. The coolness of the tile greeted her, and she laid her weary body against it. Allowing it to numb her, she felt her eyelids closing.

"Just for a moment," she thought.

Her eyes closed, her mind began to quiet, and she practiced the meditation her mother had forced her to learn to help calm her "moments." Waves of calm pulled her down. She felt her body starting to sleep and was unable to lift herself from the cool darkness in which she was floating.

Asha, still watching from above, seeing her exhausted daughter succumbing to sleep, stood.

Walking to the speaker that connected her to the nurse's desk outside, she pushed the button to call for a bed to be brought; however, the words never escaped her lips.

Lucy's eyes shot open painfully as the loud blaring alarm jerked her from her repose. For a moment, her sleep addled brain was confused. Where was she? What was that sound? Why were people shouting?

A second alarm, waking her further, the truth crashing in on her. Kyros . . . something was wrong. Still not fully awake, she pushed through the crush of bodies to get to her friend.

"Get her out of the way," Krieger shouted, his tone a growl.

She felt hands on her shoulders, strong familiar hands that had lifted her out of many places as a child.

"Shhh, Princessa, let him help," Mardrich said, close to her ear.

Struggling against reason, she needed to help, even though she knew not how.

Knocking into a nurse, she yelped dropping a tray of instruments. The clattering competing with the shrill beeping overwhelmed Lucy. Tears streamed down her face as she mindlessly fought to get closer to her only true friend.

A sharp prick in her shoulder, just as she broke through the ring of people caused her to cry out. Looking over, she saw a very regretful looking Mardrich holding a needle. She wanted to rail at him, but the effect of the injection was already taking affect. She grasped at a metal tray holding scalpels, a warm sensation on her hand was not one she could register with a cause.

Mardrich held his arms out to catch her as the sedative ferried her off into unconsciousness.

Krieger looked up from the animal that was now stabilized. He saw the slumped Princessa, and felt the rage growing inside him. That idiot child should never have been allowed in here. She was a spoiled brat who felt entitled to be where she wished; which of course, was not of his Contessa's fault, his mind added hastily.

Pushing the rage back down, he knew she was still watching. In a matter of uncommon care, he went to the child, checking her breathing before he noted the dripping blood from her palm.

He hastily grabbed gauze to soak it up. Many were surprised with the care and concern this supposed monster was showing to the Princessa.

"The animal is finished, sew up the wound and take it to recovery. I need to see to the Princessa's hand. This is a rather deep and nasty cut," he instructed.

Mardrich knew the Contessa did not wish The Mengelan to touch Lucy, but he was right, it was a deep cut. The sooner it was sutured, the better off she would be. Looking up at Asha, he pulled Lucy tight into his arms, letting her know that he would not leave her side for a moment.

Krieger closed his eyes briefly before taking Lucy's blood streaked hand in his own. This was her child, a child with whom he shared genetics, almost as if she could have been theirs. With a tenderness shown few, he sutured her hands with precision and grace, his eyes once again blind to anything but his work.

He took his time. The sutures were tiny, and they would leave a minimal scar. His touch was gentle and caring, but Mardrich watched him like a hawk, looking for any sign that his intentions had changed, and he meant to harm her. But that moment never came. Just as they finished with Kyros's wound, Krieg finished with hers. Both Lucy and Kyros were wheeled out of the operation room, the bird taken to recovery and the girl back to her chambers.

Lucy moaned softly as Mardrich moved her into bed. Asha covered her up while the house doctor had assessed Lucy's hand.

"This man's skill is incredible. She will be fine. I will leave pain medication on her table," he said, ducking out quickly.

Asha looked at her child. Her face was pale, yet peaceful, her thick black eyelashes fluttering over her cheeks.

"What happened?" she asked, finally shattering the palpable silence.

"It appears that for a couple moments, the bird's heart stopped. It caused all the machines to go off. You saw the rest," Mardrich replied.

"What did you shoot her with?" she asked, smoothing the raven curls away from her daughter's face.

"A sedative. It was all I could think of in that moment," he said, his tone level, his expression concerned but not fearful.

"That was an excellent move, I'm going to stay here until she wakes. You should go and check on the bird. Inform Dr. Krieger that I will send for him when I am available to discuss his fee," she said, settling lightly bedside her daughter on the bed.

Mardrich leaned in, kissing the girl gently on the forehead before departing.

Asha began to stroke Lucy's head, humming softly the lullaby her mother had sung to her in the Before Times.

Lucy unconsciously smiled softly as Asha began to sing.

You know a dream is like a river

Ever changin' as it flows

And a dreamer's just a vessel

That must follow where it goes

Trying to learn from what's behind you

And never knowing what's in store

Makes each day a constant battle

Just to stay between the shores...and

I will sail my vessel

'Til the river runs dry

Like a bird upon the wind

These waters are my sky

I'll never reach my destination

If I never try

So, I will sail my vessel

'til the river runs dry

Too many times we stand aside

And let the waters slip away

'til what we put off 'til tomorrow

Has now become today

So, don't you sit upon the shoreline

And say you're satisfied

Choose to chance the rapids

And dare to dance the tide.

**************************************************************

Deep inside Sybil's mind, she heard a soft comforting sound, a distant voice, a familiar melody. Unfortunately, she could only catch snippets of it over the whirling hum of machinery she heard around her. So close she could feel the warm metal beneath her, but it still sounded so far away. Trying to push her mind past the fog, she tried to move her body to find out where she was. Suddenly a loud voice broke through it all.

"Hey, Captain Sleepy Head, it's time to get up!"

Sybil opened one eye to see a very cheerful Violet peering at her. They had been traveling by night to get to the Sadovkan border landing and hiding during the day. Looking out the doors of what had once been an airplane hangar, she was annoyed to see the sun's last gasp disappearing over the horizon.

She wanted to growl at Violet for possibly being this cheerful, but the radiant smile on her face was impossible to crush.

"Why are you so Gorram cheerful?" Sybil asked, trying to dislodge what felt like an entire beach of sand from her eyes.

"Oh, no reason!" Violet said, bouncing up to sit beside her. She had in her hands a plate of food and a cup of tea.

"Because you come bearing food, I will not flog you for such a ridiculous mood, but only if you tell me what it's about. I know you rather well and I can tell when something has you wound up," Sybil said, taking a long swig of the tea, feeling it race through her body, and bringing it back to life.

"Well, if you must know!" Violet replied with pretend indignation, but it was clear to see she was simply imploding from holding in the information.

"I got word on the radio that Captain Barbosa and his crew are due to stop here tonight. He wants to meet with you . . . something about a package for Sadovka," she said, her body nearly vibrating with excitement.

"All of this cheerfulness for that? Oi. Okay, go get yourself presentable. I wouldn't want him thinking I run a shoddy crew," she said

Violet was off like a shot. Sybil could not help but smile. She had no idea of what Barbosa's life was like, and if he was interested in Violet, but it made her smile to see her friend light up. Life in the New Times could very easily suck the hope out of you. It was nice to see her enjoyment.

Setting down her empty plate, she rolled out of her bunk, thinking over her dream. Her dreams always got weirder the closer to the walls she got. Given Abraham's revelations, she was now set to wonder if it had something to do with these "sisters" of hers. She has known all her life that she was different; April had never used the word mutant around her, but she knew that sometimes the capabilities of her mind had frightened her mother. Perhaps these girls were different as well. It was possible they carried a bond given their half-shared genetics and date of birth. However, the science of humans had never much interested her. She much preferred to create amazing things from nothing. While the Valkyrie would always be her most stunning achievement, her favorite memory was fixing the water filtration system for the town when she was just six. So many people had been helped.

Shaking her head, she pushed the ponderings and memories away. Meeting with Barbosa would delay takeoff.

He better not come here asking for favors and think his supposedly dashing smile is going to get them for him for free. She thought her mood surly from lack of sleep.

Looking over the side, she hid a grin. Violet was dressed in her most piratic outfit. She had a rather romanticized idea of what actual pirates must have looked like; however, she looked quite striking in the black leggings and white, poufy shirt to which she had added an avalanche of lace to.

Lace that had nearly gotten them both killed. She had been so adamant that they go into Vellteri and barter with the Before Times nun ladies. They liked to be called nuns. They each looked nearly a hundred and twenty years old. They used the silkworm gardens to make lace. It was a tradition they did not want forgotten, so they taught it to any who would learn. Violet had begged to stay to learn, but when she learned that they did sunrise daily prayer services, scrubbing, and ate only roots, that was when she decided that her fingers were entirely too thick for that.

Glancing back out at the skyline, she knew Barbosa would not risk coming in until well after dark. He had broken up a raid by The Mengelan's men and freed them all. He was a high priority for Templar and the bounty squads to apprehend "Dead or Alive."

"Violet honey, he's topping the red list, he's not coming in until after dark. Come sit, loosen that belt a notch, and relax. You know the Q.A Revenge will send a tone over the radio when he is within sight. That will get you plenty of time to pull on those incredibly high and overly complicated looking boots and re-adjust your swashbuckler's belt. Is that what you made from that hide we picked up in the California region of Pendergrass?" she finished, leaning against the mast.

Violet paused in her pacing. She looked up at her captain, her best friend, and did the most dignified thing she could think of, given how true everything she had just said was. She stuck out her tongue.

Sybil laughed.

Violet stomped back aboard the ship.

"Oh honey, don't worry, you look fantastic and I'm certain Captain Stinky Pants will be immediately smitten," Sybil said, part of having Violet as a first mate was knowing when to boost her ego.

Violet smirked.

"So, help me, if you tell him I called him that I will, I will . . .," she paused, her eyebrows furrowing into a nearly solid line as she taxed her brain.

"I will do something unpleasant!" she said finally.

Sybil laughed and held up her hands in surrender," I promise he will never hear of the state of his pants from me!" she exclaimed.

"Oh, you are impossible woman!" Violet said.

Sybil opened her mouth to continue the banter when a familiar soft tone, wafted up to them from the radio.

"Now you have your Captain's permission to go ashore and great our guests, First Mate," Sybil said, all the while trying to maintain a straight face.

"Oh, Aye Aye Captain, thank you. I'll take the long boat to the distant shore, or you know . . . walk down the gang way and land on the concrete," Violet retorted as she stomped back down, all the while repositioning the lace ruffles on her shirt.

"Oh, Captain Stinky Pants, you'd best be nice to that girl or you and I will have words," Sybil muttered as the Q.A Revenge set down just outside the hanger.

She was a beautiful ship. Her lead engineer had fashioned the hull out of a red tinted titanium. The coating reflected the light around it, making hiding it in plain sight much easier.

Violet was standing by the gang way, trying her best to look casual as she waited for the crew to come inside. Sybil stood atop the deck beside the gang plank. She never greeted anyone on the ground, and she never boarded another's ship. She was known as the most elusive pirate in the skies.

She had developed these policies after what she called "her cricket" appeared. She was headed on a raid and suddenly she heard what sounded exactly like a cricket chirp in her ear. Turning her head quickly to find the bug, she found herself dizzy and disoriented. Unable to discern where she was or what she was doing, an overwhelming sense of dread crept up her body, bringing with it a palpable chill, which caused her teeth to chatter. Stopping dead in her tracks, she called for an immediate retreat, only half the crew agreed to follow her order and those who didn't paid with their lives. The base had been rigged to implode when the door was opened. They had been crushed under the rubble.

That little cricket had saved her life more times that she could count. Closing her eyes, she listened for its very distinctive sound, she had worked to respond to the threat quickly to avoid some of the more physical warnings the cricket brought.

She heard nothing, just the distant sound of Violet's chatter as she did her very best not to show how interested she really was. Given no warning by her cricket, she figured she was safe. Putting on her best "other people are looking at me" smile, she looked down at Barbosa. It was easy to see why Violet was so head-over-heels for this guy. He was classically handsome, squared jaw, and he had grown a beard since the last time she had seen him. His rich chestnut hair swept up cleanly in a low ponytail.

Reaching the end of the gang plank, he bowed deeply and with overdone flourish.

"My dear Captain Hook, if it pleases you and your exceptional crew," he paused to wink at Violet, who managed to turn the deepest shade of crimson Sybil had ever seen on a human being.

"I would be honored if I could board your venerable vessel," he finished.

Sybil, for the sake of Violet's heart, did not roll her eyes. This guy was really over the top.

"My crew and I are privileged to receive you, Captain. Please come aboard," she said, mimicking his bow.

"I will be thrilled to escort you," Violet said, bravely offering her arm to the captain.

He took it with a grin that clearly caused Violet's knees to become slightly weak.

Violet moved to open the door to her cabin. She had worked meticulously to ensure that it was fit for receiving visitors. Sybil nodded her approval to her, giving Violet a few minutes to chat with her dream fella. She was forced to realize that perhaps she had a flair for the dramatics of piratry. Maps of the Before Time and the Now Times hung on the walls. It was far easier to get BT maps if you knew where to look. NT maps were scarce and full of inaccuracies. She had started her own map as she had a unique view of the world that so many were denied now. She heard rumor that the Nulls had more complete maps that had been stolen from Templar, but still no one had the technology, to really know what was left of the earth.

The chairs had been borrowed from a museum in what had once been England. They were ornate with-if you were truly honest about it-gaudy, red velvet cushions. Rescued maritime artifacts were displayed carefully. Truly it was her grotto of treasure.

Settling in the largest and most overdone chair in the room, she put on her business face and waited for the chatty couple to enter.

Violet was simply glowing. Part of Sybil was jealous. Not so much of the love interest, she saw little pragmatic use for that kind of love. Her highs came from daring the powers that be to strike her down; from tempting fate so many times she was surely on a repeat offenders list with whoever controlled that kind of thing.

It was the hope in her eyes, that twinkling light that promised that a future could be had. That was not something Sybil had felt since her mother had died.

"Please be seated, how can I be of service to you Captain Barbosa?"

"I've heard from your eloquent and beautiful first mate here that you are headed into Sadovka," he replied, winking at Violet who was the same shade as the drapes.

"I am," she replied. It was not uncommon for air pirates to let others know about in between Imperium travel, as it was important to them all not to end up in the same place and attract too much attention.

"Excellent. I have a job of sorts. I was planning to take it myself next month; however, the sooner it arrives, the better. The cargo is small and does not require any maintenance; however, I must ask that you not open it. Also, the person to whom this package belongs works in the grand palace. His name is Mardrich. He is the animal handler for his royal cranky pants," he explained.

Sybil nodded, her brows furrowing together in thought.

It was not uncommon for contraband to go back and forth across the walls, it was even less uncommon for it to be brought through on the airships. So, while his request was not all that much out of the ordinary, the recipient was, and could prove more than a bit dangerous.

"How will I reach this Mandrake when I land? I have zero intention to go ring the Emperor's front doorbell and announce a package," she replied.

"Mardrich. I will inform him when you let me know you've landed. You never even need meet the man. There is a prearranged dropping spot for such things. He is one of my best customers," he replied.

She glanced at Violet. Smitten as she may have been, it was obvious that she was more than a bit curious about what was in the box as well.

"I'll take it. You can keep whatever fee he pays you; however, I need some more martial supplies, which I will take in trade," she said.

Sybil knew she had more than enough weapons per se, but she was short on steam cartridges. Not to mention Captain Barbosa was known for his pixie dusts. Weird concoctions he used to evade Templar.

He smiled widely.

"Your request is more than reasonable, and I will also add a mark to the book in your name," he said standing.

"Not required, but appreciated," Sybil said standing.

The book was not a real book, or perhaps once it had been, but now it existed merely in the mind of those who flew the skies. It was a favor, something you could call in and the giver had no choice but to assist. They were not given out freely. This offer only intensified her curiosity. What could be in this "routine" package that would warrant such an outlay from this dashing, if slightly overdressed, pirate?

"Excellent I will make note when I get back to my quarters. If you would be so kind as to lend me your first mate, I can have her bring the cargo back."

Sybil glanced at Violet. On one hand she really did not want to sit here a moment longer. On the other hand, life for them was about to become very complicated, and she wanted to give her friend the chance for some fun.

"Of course, Captain, and if you like, First Mate . . . you may have that requested shore leave. Just make sure you are back before the moon hits the midpoint," she said, unable to contain the side smile from the joy exploding in her expression.

"You are so kind Captain; I promise to have her back in time. If the young lady wishes to come along that is," he replied, giving Violet a swoon worthy smile.

"I would be delighted, thank you Sy- err . . . Captain Hook," she said. The twinkling in her eyes reminiscent of the lights from above as they soared over the sleeping cities.

The two of them headed down the gangplank, talking and smiling.

Sybil sat back and closed her eyes. Rest had not been kind to her in many months and this was a perfect opportunity to let the heaviness of her eyes claim her.

She drifted off quietly into a deep sleep. Before complete oblivion could take her, she heard a voice ever so softly whisper "Jia." She attempted to focus on the voice. It sounded so familiar, yet before she could, the Lord of Dreams carried her away.

**********

"Jia," Abe said, so softly not wanting to be overheard.

She looked around furtively, making sure they were alone before she spoke to him.

"Oh Abe, I just knew you would come," she said, unshed tears threatening to strangle her voice.

"It's my job. Rescuing the Carter family has become a bit of a full-time occupation over the years," he replied with a wink.

"We need to get out of here, and get Ching, and find Josiah as soon as possible. Ching must be losing her mind. I'm surprised you kept her from storming the castle," Jia said, taking a carefully hidden pair of common clothing out of a cabinet.

"You know, it took a lot of convincing to avoid that," he replied

Abe sighed as he turned around. Why was it he was always the one left to clean up Josiah's messes? He did not mean the rescue of Jia. He would have walked through Hell to save her, Josiah, notwithstanding. However, now he had to tell her the truth, about all of it. He remembered the anger and betrayal in Sybil's eyes as she had learned the truth about her father. How was this woman, this incredible, brilliant, beautiful woman going to feel when he had to tell her, that yes, they were getting Ching and leaving to get Josiah, that they had to meet up with his other two daughters in the process? Jia loved Josiah more than he deserved, and now, Abe had to break her heart.

Turning back around, he smiled softly. A long black ribbon wound around her hand as she brushed her luxurious long black locks up into a no-nonsense top knot.

"So yeah, I . . . uh, know where Josiah is. We have to go to Sadovka to rescue him," Abe said, choosing a better place for the rest of his revelations.

"That man," Jia muttered as she hid her white scrubs in a soiled linens bag.

"You have no idea," Abe muttered as he glanced back out into the ward. The hospital was quiet, and this afforded them a chance.

"Okay, so I have a plan. It's not pleasant, but it will get us out of here easily and reunited with Ching," he said.

Jia nodded.

Ten minutes later, he pulled up a body wagon to the loading docks. He transferred the bags from the Jeep before stepping out and looking around to see if anyone was about. There was a lone sentry by the door to the meds building. Markov always kept those guarded.

He raised a sleepy half wave to Abe who returned it with a sympathetic nod. Heading inside, he quickly found Jia staring at the thick black bag on the stretcher.

"You are right, it is not pleasant," she said simply before climbing into the bag.

"I'm sorry, Lotus Blossom, but this is the best way. I promise you, the moment we have exited the tower range I will get you out," he said, zipping the bag nearly up, leaving just enough space to let some fresh air in.

Sliding the gurney to the dock, he loaded her carefully.

Grabbing the papers for the actual corpse, which he had rather haphazardly tossed into the bags of burn trash, he got back into the wagon. He could not imagine how scared Jia must be; yet, he knew if he appeared rushed or worried, the exit sentry might notice.

He knew Ching was just beyond the guard tower clearing and she was very close to losing her mind. He imagined that the coppery scent on the air was her anger, that the gathering clouds were somehow in response to her worry. Shaking his head, he gave the guard what he hoped was a casual smile.

The guard looked bored. This was the worst shift for the back gate. The only things that went out at this hour were bodies or emergency missions, but there had been very few of those in the last couple of years. People had started to settle and accept their roles in the Now Times. Violent riots and other such events had become scarcer.

The guard gave the paperwork a cursory glance.

"Normally, I would check the body tags and stuff, but it says this one died of a worm. So, if it's all the same to you, I'm just gonna walk back and open the gate," he said, watching Abe's response.

"I don't blame you brother. I lost a coin toss. It's how I ended up with a worm body and I'm not blaming you one bit for not wanting to be close to that," he replied, his features twisting into a look of disgust.

The guard nodded.

"Thanks. I'll just scan you out and you can be on your way. I think everyone will be happier with that thing outside the compound," he said, passing the scanner over Abe's arm.

The guard glanced at the screen and Abe swore he could hear Jia moving around in the bag. The guard made no sign that he had as well. Abe could feel the sweat pooling at the base of his back. If he was discovered, it was over. Not just for him and Jia, but for the entire Carter clan.

"Well, Captain Abraham Jones, you are free to go. Oh, and it says here you need a physical," he said.

Abe could not help but laugh.

"You know, I'm not going until the Dr warms his hands," he repeated, hoping the joke would go over as well the second time around.

The guard snorted as he walked back inside. Pressing the small leaver, Abe could hear the welcoming sound of steam working its way through the pipes, rushing towards the complicated locking mechanism that controlled all the gates here. Markov had it specially designed so that only the right temperature of steam would open the gate.

Pulling through with a half salute to the guard, he drove carefully. Steam engines were much harder to burn out in, which in this case was a blessing, considering how badly he wanted to peel out and speed away from the place that had become his Now Times home.

Glancing up, he looked at the four guard towers. Markov took security of the fortress very seriously.

"Almost there Jia, you can open it up a bit more if you want," he called into the back.

He got no response, but the distinctive sounds of a zipper working its way down floated up to him.

A relieved smile crept to his face. They had not made it yet, but this was promising.

Exiting onto the main streets, he was once again immersed in people heading to the train. As someone who traveled regularly through the Imperiums, he found it very odd that everyone was in such a hurry to get to Sadovka. Shrugging, he kept his eyes on the road, pushing through the throngs of people as delicately as possible. At first, some people were rude, shouting things at him for having a car on the path. However, when most saw it was a body with a yellow worm sticker, they scattered.

He felt Markov and his fortress slipping further behind him as he made his way into the night. Part of him wanted to radio Ching, let them know they had made it out and would be to the clearing soon. Yet, he could not shake the idea that it would undo them.

He knew to trust his gut; over the years it had kept him alive.

"Jia, we are outside the towers. You can fully unzip, but I would remain laying down and silent until we reach the clearing," he said, waiting for the once again telltale sign of the zipper going down. However, he was not rewarded with the coveted sound.

White knuckles gripped the wheel, panic bubbled in his gut like a cauldron. Sucking air in through his nose, he attempted to calm himself. As much as he wanted to jump from the death wagon and rip open the back to see her soft eyes staring into his, that would cause quite a commotion and draw more notice than they needed.

Swallowing the bile that was creeping up in his throat, he jammed the accelerator to the floor. The service car, not used to such demands, whined in protest. Less than a mile to the clearing, he cursed the travelers, whom he so desperately needed as a distraction, but who at this moment were slowing him to a maddening pace.

"Jia?" he asked again.

Silence stretched out in reply.

A fresh bolt of panic-struck Abraham as he floored the gas pedal, ignoring shouts from travelers he nearly ran down.

All the breath he had been holding came out in an audible whoosh as he pulled into the woods. It was just a couple hundred more feet to the clearing. Some temple from the time of antiquity had once stood here, but the bombs and looting left little more than some chipped white stones slanting here and there.

He scanned the tree line. He could see no one, and that was what he had hoped for. Ching was smart. She would stay hidden. Pulling the car through the hidden pass, he heard the trees scraping against the metal. He hoped its shriek would pull some reaction from Jia.

Still, only silence.

Pulling fully into the clearing, he jumped from the car, nearly forgetting to place it in park. Merely the shadows of his feet seemed to touch the ground as he ran to the back, throwing it open with little concern for noise.

"Jia!" he shouted. Pulling the gurney out, he peered into the bag. What greeted him nearly stopped his heart. Jia lay still, her eye lashes stark against her pale skin. Her breathing shallow and erratic.

Before he could reach into the bag, he felt the others beside him.

"I . . . she . . . was fine . . . the check point . . . I don't know," Abe said, grief and exhaustion taking hold.

"He's Gorram bio-clocked her," Ching shouted to the rest of the Voids who watched from the trees.

"I need a bag of saline, my purple haze bottle and the needle kit," she said to Constantine, who ran like Hermes back to the supply stash. The panic in her voice evident, yet her movements calm and controlled as they removed Jia from the bag, laying her gently on the gurney.

"She is in shock. Blankets, and chocolate too!" she shouted in the direction her brother had run.

"Bio-clocked?" Abe asked, his hands shaking.

"Markov likes to make sure his acquisitions stay put, so he gives them a pill that suppresses insulin production. Then he puts in the pump and it only functions inside the fortress. As soon as you took her out her pump stopped working, but the suppression pills last 24 hours." Ching explained. She worked hurriedly with the requested items.

"But you can fix this?" Abe said, trying very hard to keep his eyes from the still face of the only woman he had ever loved.

"In another ten minutes or so, I would not have been able to reverse the crash. However, we broke out some Voids a while back that were clocked, and I reverse engineered an antidote. So due to my brains and you being the most amazing double agent alive, we will save her," Ching said before turning back to her mother.

Abe stepped back, settling unceremoniously on one of the slagging white stone chips. He had never thought of himself as a double agent. He had always been a Templar, since the Before Times. Yet, here he sat in a darkened clearing while Nulls, Voids, and a terrifyingly gifted young woman, who was rushing to save her mother's life. What side was he on? For that matter, what sides where there?

Panic and fear drained from his body as he watched as Jia's breathing resumed a normal and visible rhythm.

Abe's eyes sunk to the ground. He knew he could never tell Ching about the love he harbored, and at one point, shared with Jia Carter. He heard voices around him, quiet commands given to move Jia on the gurney to the cave base. A pair of scuffed boots entered his vision. Looking up he smiled at Ching.

"You truly are amazing, kid," he said, hoping to lighten her scowl.

"You are aware, after all this business is settled and we get dad, and escape the jaws of the lion, I will go back for Markov. He's a monster. He would see her die if she chose not to create his weapons," she said, her eyes smoldering with anger. Abe knew Markov had signed his own death warrant.

"Aye," was all he replied.

"Abba will need a few hours before she can walk and not draw too much attention on the train. I have booked us a private car on the train, also the Voids have supplied us with the acolytes' habits from the Maw abbey. It's covering and horrible in pattern; however, it's another layer to get us out of here alive," Ching said, kicking at rocks with her shoes.

Abe knew the waiting was bothering her. If there was one thing Ching Carter could have been blessed with. it was more patience.

"I'm not even going to ask how you got a car booked. The trains have been sold out all week with so many going to Sadovka," Abe said, genuinely impressed.

Ching waved her hand.

"Don't you think it is a bit odd that so many are going to Sadovka? I mean . . . Velletri is no paradise, but I'm not sure the New Times rule is really worth celebrating," Ching said, settling on the ground, her back against a stone.

"I was wondering that myself, having been to Sadovka many more times than I would like to, I can't see the draw myself," Abe answered, sliding down his rock, enjoying the feel of the cool, smooth stone against his back.

"I can answer that," a familiar voice said from the clearing.

"General!" Abe exclaimed with a smile.

"I'm glad to see you made it Abe, and that young Miss Carter here did not burn down the city for the return of her Abba," he said, making his way over to them. The general settled on the ground. Two Voids appeared and soon there was a fire. Food and blankets were brought.

Once everyone was settled, the General began.

"Old radiation for brains in Sadovka is planning something. He's lured people in with food, and festivities, something the people of Velletri rarely see. He's promising them a diversion. I expect that many are leaving with the idea that Sadovka is some paradise. Hidden away from them, behind this big wall. They see this as their chance to find somewhere safe. Now I think ole Gregor up there is still bitter about not being the grand high leader of everything. Perhaps he wants to trap everyone inside Sadovka, ransom back the people for more power. But I don't think that's it. I think he and bat shit Markov are going to take the opportunity to move their armies into Pendergrass and Velletri and take over by force," he said

"An invasion? I mean, Gregor is power hungry sure, and more than a bit crazy, but the logistics of an Imperium invasion would tax even Markov's resources. What led you to believe this?" Abe asked, closing his eyes as the warm soup scared away the chill that had settled in his bones.

"We have received scattered information from the other ghosts. We even intercepted a communication from Markov. To be honest, the clues are crammed together from whispers and rumors. All we know for sure is that Markov is to bring RD serum to the gala for the curtain call," the General quoted.

Ching's head snapped up.

"Did you say RD serum? she asked, her sleepy eyes narrowed in attention.

"That's what it said. We figure it's a weapon, or a pox they plan on unleashing on the other realms. Do you know of it?" he asked.

"I may or may not have broken into the basement storage in Markov's private paradise and taken some antibiotics and pill making compounds. There was a huge glass case against the wall. Triple locked, inside were a bunch of vials labeled RD and random numbers. I did not have time to fuss with it. Malaria had shown in Velletri and I had lives to save," she said quietly.

Abe kept his mouth shut; he knew for certain that had something to do with Josiah's mutations, but he had no idea how that could even be weaponized.

All eyes stared into the fire. Whatever this threat was, it was not hypothetical; yet, they had no idea what it was for.

Constantine appeared from the shadows beside Ching, causing Abe to reach for his weapon.

"Boy, you have got to learn to make some noise, or one of these days I am going to shoot you," Abe chastised.

Ching laughed softly.

"Abba is awake," he said.

Without another word Ching was on her feet and headed to the cave.

The General waited until she was well beyond ear shot.

"I don't know the specifics, and I'm not here to gossip. But I do know you are in love with Jia Carter, and I can't imagine that would go over well with our young dynamo," he said.

Abe sighed.

"It's been a long road to get to this point. Many missteps have been made, as I'm sure many more will be. However, I would never do anything to upset their lives," Abe said, his voice soft with unspoken sadness.

The old man nodded.

"Ching told me about the other girls. I know you have carried a great responsibility, although I can't say I understand the loyalty this Josiah inspires in people, given his dalliances," the General continued.

"I've spent the better part of fifteen years trying to figure out just that," Abe said with a grin.

"I hope that whatever it is he wants you all over there for has to do with stopping lord cuckoo pants, before he destroys what's left of the earth." The old man's eyes sought out Abe's, looking perhaps for a glimmer of hope.

"Me too." Abe felt his eyes grow heavy; sleep was demanding its due.

"I can only dodge the sandman so long. Given that Jia needs some recovery time, I'm going to try to get more than single hour of sleep," Abe said, standing slowly. His bones felt old and brittle, his muscles twitching in response to his want to move.

"Good idea, soldier. We have this entire place locked down. No one is coming this way without us knowing," the General replied, stifling his own yawn. He watched the fire's embers dim. Signaling for more wood, he lay on the ground, dreaming as he did many times before of his wife and their little Maine cottage.

Chapter 8

Sybil paced, making very sure not to pass in front of the windows. She did not want, for a second, for Violet to feel rushed. However, sitting still was not something Sybil excelled at. She was a force trapped inside the body of a mere human and to make her be still was torture. Glancing again at the clock for what was surly the tenth time in as many minutes, she noted that Violet still had almost an hour left.

She glanced around her cabin, her eyes laying on the meditation beads her mother had strung for her last birthday. It had taken April nearly a year and extensive trading; however, she had managed to put together a string of twenty-eight of the most unique and beautiful beads Sybil had ever seen.

Her mother had understood how hard it was for her daughter to be still, how her mind whirled and leapt from one adventure or invention or plan to the next. Sybil remembered how proud her mother had been. She had made it in hopes of giving her daughter a place to pour her energy and soothe her mind.

Grabbing the beads, Sybil headed for her favorite place on the entire ship. The crow's nest. She spent as much time atop the mast then she did behind the wheel. It was intoxicating to be among to clouds, to be so distant from the struggles of a dying world below.

After climbing the mast, she settled inside the nest, and proceeded to wrap the beads around her arm. Her mind went back to Abe's words about her father and her sisters. It had been a shock, of course, yet part of her had always felt drawn away. Sometimes she would catch phantom smells or sounds as she went about her life. Perhaps those were snippets from the lives of the women with whom she shared blood but had no chance to know.

Her mother had always told her she was exceptional. That her mind and her skills were not common in these times, or in the Before Times. What if the others were too? What if they had felt her, had seen or heard snippets from her life and been just as confused as she. Running her fingers over the beads as she thought, she closed her eyes trying to imagine what they would look like. With different mothers, it was possible that they would bear little, or no resemblance to each other.

The smooth surface of the beads rolled easily between her fingers as she caressed them. Something about their clean, cool surface appealed to her, drew her in. Closing her eyes, she felt each bead, trying to guess its color simply by how it felt.

Rigid muscles became flaccid, rushing torrents of thought transforming into meandering streams. Short, patient less breaths became deep, energizing lungsful of cool night air. Closing her eyes, she felt herself drifting. It was not sleep that claimed her, it was Zen. She allowed her mind to make peace with her upcoming adventure and allowed her thoughts to explore the possibilities that lay ahead without stress and fear.

The deeper her mind went, the closer her body pulled her into dreams. Cool air rushed over her cheeks and she smelled a campfire. Opening her eyes to find she was not in the crow's nest, she stood in a clearing full of shadowy figures. People who were just too out of focus to grasp their faces. She moved forward slightly, careful to stay in the tree line. While nothing about the situation set off her cricket, but that was no reason to be careless.

Surveying the landscape, it was evident from the large crumbling marble blocks strewn here and about, some in rather large impact craters, that she was in Velletri, near Rome. She'd only come in this far once to pick up a shipment of meds from the Voids. Even that she had been reluctant to do, being this close to Markov's keep was not wise for an air pirate.

Inching closer, she looked again at the faces trying to find distinctive features.

A voice in the distance called.

"Wake up, Abe. It's time to head for the train."

Abe! Sybil's mind proclaimed. They were friends. Rushing forward, she found herself rooted to her spot. Deciding the best course of action was to call out to her friend. She took in a deep breath and called out as loud as she could.

Nothing happened, no one even responded to her. She felt the panic rising. Why could she not move? Why did no one see her or hear her? Shouting again and again, she felt someone grip her arms and shake her roughly.

Opening her eyes, she stared into the very concerned face of her dear Violet.

"What the hell?" she murmured, standing stiffly.

"That is exactly what I'd like to know!" Violet exclaimed.

"I'm down the end of gang plank, saying goodbye to Sebastian, and I hear," she continued.

"Wait . . . Sebastian?" Sybil interrupted.

"I had no idea he even had a first name," she said, noting that every viewable piece of Violet's skin had turned the same shade as a tomato.

"Yes, of course; however, that is not nearly as important as to why you were shouting for Abe at the top of your lungs on an empty ship!" Violet said, leaning over the crow's nest to shout.

"She's fine, it was a bad dream. I'll let you know when we get back," Violet said, nodding to the reply that Sybil was too disoriented to follow.

"What time is it?" Sybil asked, trying to remember the specifics of what had been a rather odd dream.

"Well, it was midnight exactly when I came back to the ship, so I imagine it's now closer to a quarter past, given I'm not as adept at scaling the riggings to get up here as you are," Violet replied.

Sybil was about to make a crack about her outfit and boots hindering her mobility when she noted the rather disheveled state of her clothing and the lack of boots. She smirked and raised an eyebrow instead.

Violet simply stuck out her tongue. She was no more ready to share her time aboard the Queen Anne's Revenge than Sybil was ready to explain why she had been shouting for Abe. They descended to the main deck in silence.

"I'm going to go prime the engines, you make sure everything below deck is ready. Tie down the new supplies," Sybil said, disappearing below deck.

Violet smiled. Her task gave her time to change and get ready for the next step in the adventure. Picking up the red rose from beside her boots, she smiled softly. Captain Stinky Pants had turned out to be much more man than myth and his company quite enjoyable.

*****************************************************************

Abe awoke thinking of Sybil and hoping that they had made it airborne.

"Abe, Ching says Jia is ready to go. She's all sorts of antsy to get out of the Imperium before Senor Crazy discovers she is missing," Constantine said as he appeared with a cup of steaming hot coffee.

Abe sipped it slowly and nodded.

"I'll speak with the General and we will head out soon. Keep her chill, Shadow," he said.

There were very few people Abraham Jones trusted. In fact, it seemed that the people he did trust were all related to or revolved around Josiah Carter. Josiah had been a last-minute addition to his squad. Just days after the blasts had ended, Templar was on the move. Looking back now on how the Now Times had been completely shaped by that last-minute addition, he wondered if he would have accepted him had he known.

Constantine nodded. He loved Abraham as much as Ching did. Many times, when Josiah would go missing for days and weeks, Abe would be there, bringing surprise goodies such as milk. Once, he even brought them a live chicken. In many ways, he was a father to them both.

Abe closed his eyes again and let his mind wander to Sybil. In his dream, he had heard her calling his name. Not being able to keep in contact with her during the traveling sat like a brick in his gut. She was smart, but much like Ching and Lucy, and of course, dear Josiah, patience did not run in this family.

***************************************************************

Lucy's dreams were fevered. Strange images flashed through her mind; the hum of some unknown machinery was its only soundtrack. The image of a dark-skinned man sitting beside a campfire burst into her mind. He seemed weary, faint gray stubble appearing on his chin. However, before she could grab on to the image it was gone in a swirl of medication induced haze.

Thick, soft, warm darkness beckoned her back into its complacent depths, bidding her to forget the troubling things that lay just on the other side of her eyelids. A small, frantic spark in her mind begged her to hold on, to not slip back, there was something ever so important she needed to know; but she could not bring enough clarity to her thoughts to recall what.

Letting herself become comfortably numb once again, she hoped for the oblivion of deep sleep. Her mind, however, had other plans. As she relinquished the spark of control, she tumbled down what could be described as a rabbit hole of more muted visions. Colors, sounds, and smells swirled around her mind.

Her internal struggle played out on her face as her brow furrowed deeply, a worried scowl twisting her lips. Asha stood, her own brow mirroring that of her daughters. Nightmares and odd dreams were no strangers to Lucy. Most of her life she had experienced such, several times things she had seen in these tumultuous moments had come to be.

Running her hand softly over her daughter's forehead, she hoped whatever was troubling her so was nothing more than the effects of a tiring day. None of them could afford the kind of misery that had accompanied her earlier visions.

Just as the rational part of Lucy's brain feared that the maddening onslaught of visions would cause her to crack, they ceased, leaving her in a strange, yet oddly familiar space. She knew she had been here before, the thick stone walls and floor pristine marble. The hum was louder here. Turning, she came face to face with a large copper tank, its finish so bright as to be nearly blinding to look at. Moving closer, she was struck by the enormity of the tank. Heat waves rolled invisibly from its shiny surface. She dared not touch it. Stepping back to look to the top, she realized it must be nearly four stories tall and as wide as the entrance to the performance hall.

The performance hall. That was when it hit her. She knew this tank. She knew this room. Although she had only been here once before, it was the water tank for the Lord and Leader's organ. This massive mechanical marvel was what it took to power his beautiful music. Awe filled her; she had never been much one for machines, but it was a masterpiece of engineering. Multiple clear pipes, filled with every color imaginable, branched out of the top leading into the ceiling.

Curiosity overcoming her, she stepped towards the control pane. Multiple and varied switches, buttons, knobs, and levers adorned the copper box. None seemed to be labeled. It would take a skilled hand to operate such a machine.

"Lucy," A male voice called to her, soft, almost inaudible.

She looked around tentatively. There was no place for anyone to hide in this space, unless they were brave enough to go behind the massive tank. She peered into the deep shadows behind it, anyway, searching for the phantom speaker.

"Lucy, find me," the voice said again.

Moving swiftly towards the dark corner, she felt a panic rise within her a need to find this voice, it needed her.

Just as swiftly as her mind had given her the vision, it tore it away again, leaving her floating in the void of her nothingness before allowing her the respite of dreamless sleep.

Which was just as well, a swift knock at the door brought someone she never wanted to be near in her conscious hours.

Krieger strode into the child's chamber, pleased to see Asha sitting as resplendent as ever beside the child. Convinced to keep this encounter from ending up like the last, he slipped into his most formal mask.

He bowed to her and opened his mouth to speak before Mardrich came rushing in the room, the devil on his heels.

"Asha," he began before noting Krieger's presence.

"Well then, I see I don't need to announce you to her Ladyship," he said, his tone strained through a polite smile.

"Such good hired help you have here in the palace. I admit myself slightly jealous," Krieger said with what he thought was a charming smile.

He resembled a ghoul and Asha fought the urge to demand him to leave. He had helped her daughter today and decorum must be observed. Pushing down her outrage at him daring to come to her daughter's room, she put on her social smile.

"Dr. Krieger, I am in your debt. Not only did you care for my daughter's beloved friend, but in her time of need, you cared for her. Name your price," she said, careful not to let him think she had any sentiment other than thankfulness for his skill.

He waved his hand dismissively, his eyes glancing at the stern figure of Mardrich who stood with his arms crossed firmly just to the right of his Contessa.

"We are family, I just came to check the sutures in her hand and to let you know the progress on the bird," his tone was soft; many would argue that the Mengelan had no heart to speak of. Yet, in this moment, he could easily be mistaken for a kind doctor caring for his patient.

Asha nodded, she didn't for a moment trust this man. She knew of his misdeeds and had plead with her husband more than once to reign him in. He had always ignored her, and the atrocities went on. Swallowing her disgust, she allowed it to burn in her belly as the correct responses fell out of her mouth on their own.

"Good news on Kyros, I hope?" she asked, wanting so much to have something wonderful to tell her daughter when she awoke.

"Very good, he really is an exceptional specimen, mutated without a doubt, very strong. He will heal well, and he will fly again. He is already awake and responding to food cues."

Mardrich snorted.

"I'm not surprised it would be food to rouse him. That bird loves his treats."

Asha smiled.

Krieger nodded, taking his time to examine her hand, he noted as always, his superior workmanship despite the chaos that had surrounded it. In a way he was glad it had happened; she had given him a chance to show off for his Contessa as well as giving him a very copious blood sample which he had quietly transported back to Heaven.

"Her scar should be minimal. If you see any signs of infection, notify the buffoon on staff. He should be competent enough to treat it; if not, I am always at your service," he said, offering a brief bow to Asha and a nod to Mardrich before exiting without another word.

Once his footsteps had faded, Asha gave her old friend a puzzled look.

"That is the same nutter you tossed out in the snow that night?" she asked.

"You know, as rare as snow is these days, perhaps it set him, right?" Mardrich replied, equally puzzled by a manner he would have never expected from Krieg.

"I doubt it. He is still a monster and I will sleep better once he is gone," she replied, watching her child's serene face.

"Well, I must be the one to tell you . . .. Your dear husband has requested he stay for the celebration. Not to mention, with the tons of people flooding the Imperium, it's like market day for his train of death," he replied, his mouth set in a hard line. Nothing could ever remove the memory of his ride on Heaven.

Asha's expression was no less grim.

"I will find a way to stop him," she said softly before turning to gaze at her daughter.

****************************************************************

"I see the wall," Violet said solemnly. Most of the night had been spent in familiar silence. Sybil had a lot on her mind and that always meant conversation was light.

"Guess the time is now. You know you don't have to do this; I'm sure Barbosa would pick you up and you would be safer," Sybil said, her eyes not leaving the looming white stone wall.

"While I do find his company, engaging, you are not getting rid of me that easily Lady," Violet replied.

A smile slipped to Sybil's lips.

"In that case, turn on our fog cover and let us go visit the great and mighty imperium of Sadovka," she said, sarcasm dripping from her rather nasal attempt at a Sadovkan accent.

She turned away, walking towards the wheel before stopping to look back at her only friend.

"Thanks," she said before taking the wheel.

Violet smiled. Emotions were hard for Sybil. She had never quite been a human, not really, anyway. Violet was convinced she was an air sprite or something that became trapped earth side in the blasts. Regardless of her ineffectual communications, she was the most loving and fiercely loyal person Violet had ever known.

With a brief nod and half salute, she made her way below decks, a mushy display of returned affection would only cause Sybil to be uncomfortable.

Most of Sadovka had a layer of dense fog nearly all the time, something to do with ocean air currents and the steam vents. After their run in with The Mengelan, Sybil devised the fog generator to give them more cover. No one knew how much hatred she truly harbored for that man. Not for the damage he had inflicted upon her, but for the unnamed many who had boarded Heaven never to be seen again. Shaking her head clear, she steered the ship towards a particularly dense patch of fog. She could feel the change in the ships vibrations as the generators started up. Valkyrie was her greatest accomplishment. No matter how much she loved the farm, this was her home, soaring among the clouds in something that existed solely from her imagination and hard work was her life's greatest joy.

As the wall loomed ahead, panic, a rather unfamiliar emotion, grasped her. She listened intently for her cricket, sticking her hand inside her pocket, she gave Orion a soft pet to find him also unperturbed. Examining the growing tightness in her chest as she did all things within her body, she realized, with a certain amount of uneasiness, that the fear she felt was emotional, and to her, the far worst cause.

She was afraid of meeting this man, her father, who to her knowledge had never even see her. A man who left her mother in this savage world to raise a premature daughter on her own. A man who apparently had done this not once, but twice, given he stayed with his third child. What kind of man could he possibly be? Her logical mind told her to turn the ship around let him find his way out of whatever predicament he had found his way in to. She owed him no loyalty.

Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, knowing that her mother, her kind and compassionate mother, would have urged her to go, had she been alive. To meet her sisters. She knew exactly what she would have said as she had said it so many times.

"Life now is so unpredictable, all we have is each other, and the bonds of family, be they blood or chosen. Nourish those and the rest will be possible."

Sybil had to sit and wonder if her mother had known about the others; if perhaps, she had been preparing her for this day, for the eventuality that one day she would be face to face with women who were her family.

That would be a question for Abe should they all survive whatever it was they were trying to do. Checking the map again, she saw they had made excellent time. She was nearly a full day before the rendezvous which would give her adequate time to hide the Valkyrie. She had Fox, the Void dude, send ahead a message to the rest where she was planning to set down the ship, which in her opinion was far too close to that obscene palace for her liking; however, it was fairly obvious to her that the Valkyrie was the means of escape, and as such should be as close to the palace as possible.

The wall began to pass under them, barely visible in her flawless cloud cover, yet she could always feel it, this tingle at the base of her neck as she crossed into another Imperium. She had to wonder now if that was because of her sibling, a woman who lived in the lap of the establishment. She could see them having very little in common.

It was hard to believe that a mere wall separated the two very different landscapes. A dense, thick forest ran a mile on every side of the walls. It was supposed to make a more impenetrable border. Except for at the Triangle, there you found a maximum locked down facility. One that she had been in once and knew it to be an odd collection of Before Times things.

Pendergrass lived up to its name as the breadbasket imperium, nearly all of it was farmland, rolling hills, flat planes that stretched for miles, rivers, and lakes. Sadovka was barren. Some things grew, but their main export was steam. Everything in the Now Times revolved around the exquisite steam machinery that kept them all alive.

She had heard tell of a forest that the Emperor had cultivated behind the palace to hunt in, as well as several massive indoor gardens. Outside of that, you lived for steam. It was her least favorite place to be. She found the whole thing to be draining, mentally and physically. It was always ten degrees hotter there no matter the time of year, although they had had snow twice in the New Times. Freak air currents from the colder water from the arctic.

Scanning the horizon for the imposing spire, she cringed. Given that the Mengelan was the emperor's twin brother, there was little doubt he would be here for the celebration.

"Perhaps in all this mess I can rectify the mistake of leaving him alive," she said to Orion, who had scurried up to her shoulder.

"Cap'n, I have to say, that's the weirdest looking parrot I ever did see," Violet said, as she rejoined her topside.

Orion looked at her with something that could possibly be offence.

Violet laughed, offering the creature a piece of jerky to soothe insult.

Sybil smiled, allowing the light Violet brought to chase away the dark thoughts that Krieger inspired.

Abe could smell the train before he could see it. Everything was much cleaner with steam than it had been with the old fuels, but there was still the smell of grease for the wheels and heated metal always gave off its own smell. He could never have described it to anyone else, yet it comforted him. His Before Times had contained a rather large number of machines of all kinds. To him, it was a comforting link to a past that with every day he grew more certain would never again come to be.

Looking behind him, he held in his mirth. Both Jia and Ching were dressed as acolytes of the maw. It was very similar to what nuns of Before Times wore, except these colors were red and black. Jia seemed mostly comfortable in the rather covering and restrictive habit, whereas Ching looked ready to burst out of it like superman from a phone booth.

The General had somehow gotten ahold of religious exception passports, as new acolytes of the Maw had to be covered from head to toe and were not allowed to disrobe to be scanned. It was a brilliant plan, he had to admit, and these Ghosts seemed far more connected then he had ever imagined.

They moved through the throng of people. Even though the habits provided the needed cover, they did stick out a bit as there were not as many temples to the Maw in Velletri as there were in Sadovka. Abe just kept his head down, pushing his way through the crush of bodies.

He admitted to paying very little attention to the celebration announcements unless he was on a protection detail, he had no love for big parties. They almost always meant trouble. What was so special about this party that would draw all these people to head towards the least hospitable Imperium in existence? Moving to the ticket window, he produced his credentials allowing Jia and Ching to go to a separate window. He did not want anyone remembering them as traveling together. Constantine had completely vanished. After a tearful goodbye with Ant-man he had slipped off, promising to meet them on the train. In Abe's hand he held a voucher for a compartment. Given his Templar status, he would never be expected to travel with the common folk. He knew Jia and Ching would be given compartments as well, religious types were never expected to mingle.

Scanning the crowd, he looked for the lithe young man, whom as a child he had carried inside his jacket for two days to the Carter's household. If he told himself the truth sometimes, he was sure he cared more for Josiah's children than he did.

A very bored looking employee scanned his arm, glanced over his pass and handed him a red ticket.

"Last boarding platform is for compartments," he said, not even glancing at Abe's face.

He nodded, moving through the bustling platform where every square inch seemed covered by humans and their bags, children with eyes full of excitement, adults checking and rechecking their tickets. Very few people in the Now Times had been on a train, they were reserved for troop and supply transport, and that crazy bastard Krieger. But no one really wanted to ride his train.

Spying Jia and Ching ahead of him, his heart slowed down to a mere thundering. They had made it; each held a red ticket like his.

"I'll be Gorramed, I think this may work," Abe muttered under his breath, hefting his not so insignificant pack over his shoulder.

Being Templar, he was not subject to search, and even with religious dispensation, the women's things could still be checked, so anything that could raise red flags had been crammed into his bag. From the clinking sounds it made every time he shifted; Abe was rather certain Ching had brought an entire chem lab.

He moved to the end of the platform, making brief eye contact with Ching. He tried to look more interested in the train in front of him than in the two women who stood close together hands clasped.

It was a Templar train; therefore, it was black. Markov liked black. He said it felt official. It was a refitted bullet train; each window would be bulletproof, and all the doors had heavy locks. It could, if need be, be turned into a mobile tactical base. It was one of twelve and rumor had it another had been sent into Pendergrass to give free rides to any who wished to go to Sadovka.

Markov was not a generous man. Something was in this for him and you'd best believe the steam canisters had been donated for the trip by Sadovka.

Like most old-time steam locomotives, water was heated in the boiler and converted to steam. However, Enoch had made improvements to many of the pervious steam machines by adding a place for canisters of highly compressed steam to be added to boost speed levels and force. They were the same concept employed by the steam guns so favored when black powder ammunition became nearly impossible to find.

"Unless you look in Markov's vaults," Abe thought to himself.

The train's whistle jostled him out of his thoughts as the throngs of humans crushed onto the train. Luckily for him the compartments were harder to get ahold of, so it was more of an orderly line than many of the common passenger areas were afforded. Abe hung back to make certain both Jia and Ching boarded the train.

Just inside the door, the passes were checked by the train's employees. Unlike almost everything Templar, the trains employed civilians as porters, ticket takers, and cooks. Abe figured it was because if the train was ever locked down, they would have a staff that would be able to care for the troops without taking away from manpower for menial tasks.

"Ticket please," a voice said.

Abe's head snapped up he instantly slapped an uninterested expression on his face as he handed Constantine his ticket to stamp. Shuffling along the corridor, he peered into the compartments pretending to judge each for space for him and his bag before moving on.

Just as they had hoped, no one had decided to sit with the two Acolytes, and they sat huddled together in one of the smaller compartments which could hold two more comfortably.

"Excuse me Ladies, I don't mean to intrude, but I was hoping to sit with you," he said loudly to give the appearance as if he was speaking to strangers.

The women nodded.

Abe slid the door closed behind him taking time to stow his bag and get an idea of how much could be seen by people simply passing by. The door provided a decent view inside the compartments; however, it had a curtain. Settling across from them, he pulled a book out of his pack and began to read, keeping up the appearance of traveling alone. Several times people peered in before deciding to move on.

Luck was seemingly with them.

It took far too long for any of their tastes for the trains pistons to start pumping. The slow lurching movement that announced their departure from the station had begun. None of them had seen Constantine since they boarded, but Abe had no doubt he would show up soon enough. That kid was slick.

Once the roaring of the train's engines and click-clacking along the track became a consistent hum, Jia felt it safe enough to speak.

"Six hours and we will be in Sadovka," she said simply.

"Have either of you ever been there?" Abe asked, feeling his muscles finally start to relax as Markov and his scanners were carried further and further away with each revolution of the wheels.

"No, but I've been told it's hot and full of cranky people," Constantine said, causing them all to jump as he slid into the compartment.

Ching fought the urge to jump up and hug him.

"Well, I'd love to say you are wrong; however, generally the people are standoffish, and it is always ten degrees hotter there than anywhere else, if not more," Abe answered.

"Oh, and do I dare even ask how you got a 'job' on a Templar train?" he added.

"I know you will not believe this, but the job is straight on the up and up," Constantine grinned.

"You are right, I don't," Abe said with a chuckle.

"Serious, Stonechat put out a flyer about two months or so ago asking for people to 'volunteer' to work the passenger trains for the celebration, since Markov was not going to part with any of his staff, at least not at a reasonable price. So, I went, I was scanned, given that I've never been caught doing anything I shouldn't and am the adopted son of a Templar employee, I was a shoe in," he said, his wide grin contagious.

"But we didn't even know we would be going to Sadovka then," Ching replied.

"You weren't planning on running out on me, were you?" she said, her tone jovial but with a tense undertone.

Constantine rolled his eyes.

"Of course not, silly. I planned to use the position to get a couple of the General's men across. They are wanted here, so we nicked a few tickets and I punched them in," he said as he settled on the floor of the compartment. His naturally long limbs folded gracefully.

"I wonder how many people on this train are legit," Ching said, shaking her head.

A long moment of silence reigned as Ching glanced at Abe, her eyes full of questions.

"Does she know?" she asked, gesturing to her mother.

"Do I know what?" Jia asked.

"That this is not only a rescue mission for you, but for Josiah as well. I received the signal," Abe replied solemnly.

He hadn't wanted to give Jia all the bad news at once. She had, had a very rough couple of days and he wished to spare her as much pain as he could.

"I knew he had been gone too long," she said, glancing out the window as the gathering gloom enfolded them.

"I meant about the others," Ching said quietly.

Abe winced. There had been many times over the years that he had debated grabbing Josiah by the shirt and knocking some sense into him. However, no more so than at this moment. Staring into her trusting eyes, he was left to impart not only the news of her husband's infidelity, but of the outcome of those affairs that she was about to meet.

Standing, he closed the curtain, and with a heavy heart, he sat across from her and began to speak.

Chapter 9

"I am not here as an Acolyte. I'm not here as an emissary. I am here as your sister, you pretentious twit," Lila shouted at her brother. Her face nearly as red as the delicate priestess gown she wore.

"You must be angry, you are cursing." Nakari replied. keeping his own emotions and reactions in check.

"Why?" she asked. Holding her hand up before he could speak.

"Don't you dare ask me why what, why would you shoot Kyros? Not only does it go against the tenants of the religion you pretend to hold so dear, it's cruel," she finished.

Nakari drew in a deep breath. He loved his sister, even given her missteps. Which he firmly believed to be solely the work of that ridicules pampered Princessa.

"I had to send a message. It seems to me after watching her for some time that the only things she cares for are you and that bird. I could never, of course, harm you. So, I did what I had to do to get her to relinquish whatever hold it is she has on you and let you continue on the path that was chosen for us," he said, folding his hands calmly in front of him.

He had known when Lila stormed into his prayer chamber today a fight was to be had. This was a truly private place and whatever was said would never be heard. She was free here to unleash her anger.

She shook her head sadly.

"It's called love, love for the sake of love, not as a tool or a weapon. Which is not something I fear you can understand," she said sadly, her rage cooling.

"You will go to her and apologize and ask forgiveness," she said, her eyes meeting his.

"My dear sister it is more likely that the Maw will stop giving steam before that is to occur," he said, trying to keep his tone civil.

"You would prefer the investigation find it was you? If you go to her, you have a chance of keeping father from finding out and being disgraced publicly," Lila said, settling into the chair opposite him. It was soft and the red velvet felt good against her skin. Nakari loved opulence and when your father was the head of the Now Time religion, that was afforded to you in spades.

"An investigation? Over an injured bird? What a waste," he said, looking disgusted even if a touch of concern graced his tone.

"You said yourself, it is one of the few things she loves. She is first in line for the succession of Sadovka. Her mother is the favored wife. What did you think was going to happen? When planning out your little fantasy, did repercussions not factor in at all?" she asked, hearing the weariness in her own voice.

Mardrich had come to her earlier to tell her of Lucy's misadventure during Kyros' surgery and of his suspicions of her brother's involvement, confirming what she and Lucy had thought. While she wanted to rush to her love's side, she knew this had to be handled so she could give Lucy peace on the situation.

He waved his hand dismissively.

"There is no proof I was involved, and in order to implicate me, she would have to out the two of you. Given the emperor's feelings on aberrational behavior . . .," he trailed off allowing his words to sit heavily in the air.

"Sometimes I have a very hard time believing we are related," she said, her anger fizzling.

He fought the urge to chuckle, he was getting through to her but mocking Lilia was the quickest way to enrage her.

"You are young, and sometimes passions have a way of taking over our thoughts. I urge you, end the relationship with her and concentrate on your work here. Think about what the Emperor would do to her if he knew. It would be far more serious than some damaged animal. Favoritism can only be relied on so far," he said, watching his words sink into her head.

Lilia took a deep breath; she and Lucy had many times talked about what it would mean if they were caught. It had even, for a short time, belayed their affair. However, Lucy was magnetic, staying away from her was the same as trying not to breathe. There was no way her brother would ever understand the love and acceptance she had found. It was best to let him think she was bowing to his wants for the time being. Safer for Lucy too, Nakari was upwardly motivated and while he played the family loyalty card, she knew it was merely scandal he was protecting himself from.

"You know, father knows already," she said defiantly.

"He's an old fool with a soft spot for you. He would lose everything if the Emperor found out. He should be the one talking sense into you. But since he obviously lacks some of his own, I am left to do it," he said, putting on his priest tone.

Rage bubbled inside Lilia, boiling her blood.

"Our father is the Archbishop of the Maw. No matter how you feel about his choices, you will never mock him again in front of me. As you know, the Maw is as dangerous as it is beautiful, and accidents do happen," she said, meeting his eyes with a sharp stare before storming out of his office, nearly running over a lone acolyte who was hovering around the Bishop's door.

For a moment Nakari just sat there listening to the sound of her boots on the tile. She had threatened him; practically told him she could kill him. Part of him raged, she had no right to speak to him like that. For a moment, a few unpleasant scenarios she could find herself in played through his mind. Yet as always, his cold calculating side stepped in. He dared not draw negative attention to himself. Not with the Grand Rite just a few days away.

Motioning the acolyte in, he quickly stowed his personal feelings. Lilia would get in line or she would be removed.

Lucy drifted through the dream realms, her mind catching on to bits and pieces of memories, or images randomly compiled by a brilliant mind into random scenarios.

Lilia knocked very softly, so softly in fact, that had Mardrich not been waiting for a report on Kyros, he may have missed it.

Raising an eyebrow, he opened the door. Smiling, he admitted her. Given Lucy's wound it would not be at all out of character for an acolyte of the Maw to attended her and check on her wellbeing. Given Lucy's rank, Lilia would be a sensible emissary from the Archbishop's office.

He knew both Lucy and Lilia had been more than careful about their relationship. He knew, and of course, both the Archbishop and Asha did as well. However, they all let it go on. Love was love. In the Before Times so many lives had been lost in the pursuit of allowing those to love as they chose without dictation from the ruling bodies. Much ground had been gained. After the blasts, nearly all that ground had been lost.

It was outright illegal and punishable by time in the steam mines in Sadovka to have any abominable relations. Now, on a few points, the Emperor was right on. He abolished child marriage, although arranged marriages were still done at the higher levels, but both parties had to agree. However, that was where Emperor Gregor's tolerance ended. No same-sex marriages or relationships were allowed. Also, those with deformities, mental or physical, were to be sterilized under the law. The other Imperiums did not have such rigid rules. When the territory was divided, several things were agreed upon while some were not. Regardless, he was happy they had found love and would protect them by any means necessary.

Hearing the door open, Asha turned her head, and seeing Lilia, she smiled. She loved her very much. She had such a soothing effect on Lucy and truly made her happy, which seemed to happen much less as her political duties had closed in upon her.

She looked to Mardrich, who glanced out into the hall before closing the door with a nod of safety.

"Oh, my darling ember," Lilia whispered softly, sitting on bed beside Lucy, slipping her hand into that of her love.

After a moment she looked up, unshed tears glistening in her eyes as she examined the cut on her hand.

"Given his reputation, I was not expecting this much skill in his work," she mused, quietly trying not to note the pallor of Lucy's mocha skin. Her long raven strands had been carefully laid out around her head.

"Being near that man makes me ill. Yet, I find it impossible to find any flaw in the work he has done, both on Lucy and on Kyros," Asha said, taking a moment to look at Lilia.

Her hair was exquisite, as if it had been spun from gold. She had never seen it free, just braided perfectly and covered by the crimson chiffon headscarf she wore. The silver embroidery along the edges spoke of her rank and importance. Her eyes were blue, yet not a shade that Asha could recall seeing before the blasts. It was more of a cerulean, with hints of green. Often, she had wondered if both Lilia and Lucy bore mutations. She was a good several inches shorter than Lucy, but they made an adorable couple.

"She hasn't awoken?" Lilia asked softly.

"She comes up briefly then seems to drift off. The sedative given to her was heavy, but appropriate, given the situation," Asha replied.

"I spoke with Nakari. He didn't deny, nor confirm, his hand in the attack on Kyros. I want very much to take this to my father. However, as you well understand with the conclave so close, he is up to his neck in work," Lilia said, smoothing the already smoothed covers around Lucy's form.

The grand celebration of the Imperiums survival was not the only large event taking place. The Leaders of the Maw were to meet and set down new policies and procedures. It was also time for the Grand Rite.

Asha well remembered the last time the rite had been done. Gregor had been in contention for power then. Power he nearly lost until he became the chosen of the Maw.

The Maw itself was ugly. A scar cut deep into the earth, crescent in shape. No one was quite certain how deep it ran. Veins had been tapped into it, to process steam, as far as four miles deep. Enoch, the savior of the masses had stood atop the highest ridge proclaiming that God had forsaken them and only the Devil would take pity upon them and opened his gates, giving mankind the chance to start again.

She remembered him giving that showboat grin before adding: "Remember, Lucifer only ever desired to give mankind knowledge, which led to his being cast from Heaven." Disaster torn, ravaged people were ready to accept any scrap of hope thrown them, and Enoch offered so much of that. He had given them devices and taught them to harness the limitless steam as mankind had done previously. He spoke to rabbis, priests, preachers and teachers of all former faiths. He held revivals through the establishing realms, showing them the power of the Maw, promising it would never desert them as God had.

"God judged each man woman and child on this earth and found them wanting. He directed his very soldiers on earth to destroy us with our own weapons. But man is not so simple, not so weak. Our very own God underestimated us . . . left us die. But we didn't die. We may have been bent and broken, yet we survived. Because just like Lucifer knew all along, we are the top of the ladder. Humans can adapt. We can change. We can and will survive. The Maw will not desert us, and unlike the strenuous limitations placed on us by God, the Maw asks only one thing. Do unto others as you would have them do to you," he proclaimed in every Imperium, to throngs of people who needed hope, who needed something to believe in. His take on the truth and the Before Times stories may have been a little questionable, but to people who had survived full on nuclear war. Fact checking was not high on the list.

But Enoch was not content to just speak of the Maw. He invited the three top running leader candidates to come face the Maw. To look directly into its raging steam. If they came out unscathed, then the Maw had chosen them. It could see what was within them and if they were right to help the world.

Asha had been afraid then. No matter her personal feelings for Gregor, she was still in his harem, not yet a wife. Sticking one's face into a one-hundred-plus degree jet of steam sounded rather stupid. Yet, they had agreed. Gregor, Maxwell, and Philomena had gone to the Maw.

Despite temperatures reaching well over one hundred in the vicinity of the Maw, the area was packed. People waited for a sign, a miracle, something they could witness that could help them move on with the lives they had now.

Lots were drawn for turns.

Maxwell, Philomena, then Gregor. Asha had watched from a hastily made tree house structure for VIP's.

Maxwell had the air of an English gentlemen; yet, every time he spoke, Asha was reminded of Ricky Ricardo on the I Love Lucy reruns. She was certain that his name was not originally Maxwell Harcourt the 3rd, and that the aristocracy attitude was more of a persona. However, he was a smart man and out of the three, the most tolerant in the ways of new laws. Perhaps having lived in persecution during his young life had led him to have more tolerant ideas now.

He was Cuban. Few boats had come ashore during the early days after the bombings. Final reports called Cuba, as well as other islands, a total loss, but who really knew for sure. Despite the roaring temperatures and the steam surrounding him, Maxwell looked non pulsed, he was suave. His thick black hair slicked back, gazing out over the crowd with a politician's smile, he showed no fear.

Enoch stood on the edge, his scuffed black boots and denim jacket were not quite as vintage then as they would be now. Despite the murmur of the crowd and the hiss of the steam. His voice carried, to every ear, preaching of salvation.

"Brothers and Sisters! Look upon these people, these mere humans who stand before you, ready to accept whatever judgment the Maw has for them. Make no mistake! God turned his back on us because of our sins! Greed! Gluttony! Lust! . . . just to name a few. He deemed us unworthy of life. Look around, my fellow humans. Not only have we survived, we have begun to thrive! This, this beautiful steam, given to us by the angel Lucifer, provides!" To demonstrate his point, and perhaps his oneness, with the Maw, he thrust both his hands into the direct jets of steam pouring skyward.

There had been gasps from the crowd, several fainted. Even Asha had been impressed when he pulled his hands from the steam completely unscathed as before. She remembered his abnormally long fingers, the way they curled nearly up to your wrist when he shook your hand, giving any exchange an often-unpleasant closeness.

He took a moment, holding his hands high above his head, his stringy black hair twirling around him as he amped up the crowd with his theatrics.

"Now, step forth Brother Harcourt. Is it your desire to rule over Pendergrass in the name of the Maw, to never again fall to the vices that nearly destroyed us?" he said, staring into Maxwell's eyes. One of the most startling things about Enoch was that he never seemed to blink. His pale blue eyes bored through you, leaving a faint hole in your soul.

Maxwell stepped forward; his mind was screaming that this was the stupidest thing he'd ever done. Yet, he hoped it was rigged. He and Enoch were friendly, so hopefully it would work in his favor. Each step to the Maw's craggy edge felt like a mile. Taking a deep breath, he let the hot air fill his lungs.

"I am," he replied, no trace of anything but resolve in his tone.

"Then step forward and allow all those here to be witness to your surrender to the Maw," he exclaimed, his expression one of extreme religious fever.

With only a moment's hesitation that went unnoticed by most, Harcourt stepped forward, his entire upper torso disappearing into the jet. Time stood still, or at least it felt that way. After a mere thirty seconds he reappeared, completely unscathed as Enoch had been.

The roar of the crowd had been deafening. Enoch placed his arm around Harcourt, holding his hand up as if he had been a prize fighter. Maxwell stepped back. Several of the more zealous of Enoch's followers stood alongside, dancing and falling to their knees in the kind of true joy only brought on by religious devotion.

"Triumphant! The Maw accepts him, Lucifer sees our need and senses the righteous in those we need to lead. Philomena my dear, you are next," he said, gesturing to the Maw. A small sardonic smile crossed his face for only a moment before his snake oil salesman pitch began again.

"Do you, Philomena, wish to rule Velletri in accordance to the Maw and respect the chance at life it has given us?" he said.

"I do!" she said, her voice enthusiastic, obviously given hope by Maxwell's survival.

"Then step forward," Enoch said, his expression smug.

With a smile she leaned into the steam. For a moment, all seemed to go as before; but then, the screams started. Screams that echoed off the stone mountains around them and in many nightmares for a good time to come.

"She's burning!" one of the followers on the platform shouted.

Moving quickly, he reached into the steam to pull her out and laid down what was left of her body. She was completely unrecognizable, her face reminiscent of a wax crayon that had been left on a hot windowsill. He stared up at Enoch who looked utterly unsurprised, until he saw the man's hands.

Grabbing him, he jumped up, waving them around like a flag.

"Do you see this! The faithful are rewarded! This man . . . a simple man with no desire to do anything other than praise the Maw, pulled the unworthy from the steam and is unharmed! Gabriel! The Maw has chosen you to be her leader!" he shouted. The cheers were deafening as people seemed to have somehow forgotten that a woman, a rather respected high-ranking woman, had just been murdered.

Gabriel himself appeared completely lost. Enoch turned him to every side of the crowd, their excitement seeming to amuse him.

Enoch closed his eyes.

"Well now, what to do about Velteri?" He asked. His question was not for the masses but for the members of the aristocracy

He may have gone on for some time until a rather pronounced "Humph" from behind them brought Enoch's eyes to focus on Gregor.

He was not nearly as frail back then, his hair more golden. His stance, just a bit taller.

Enoch turned back.

"Oh yes, you . . .," he smiled. Luckily, only a select few were present for it. His skin stretched so tightly over his bones, it seemed as if it would rip at a single touch. But just as quickly as it had come, it was gone; replaced with a normal oily grin, making most question what they had even seen.

"Oh, we mustn't forget you. Why, that simply wouldn't do at all. You are the man who thinks himself brave enough to rule the realm that contains the salvation of humanity!" he said, his pitch stirring up the crowds below him.

"If you accept this, and she accepts you. You will be responsible for building houses of study for the acolytes and places for the people to come and pray. Archbishop Gabriel here will be your councilor in all matters concerning the Maw. Is this something you are willing to accept Gregor?"

Enoch stared at him intently, never blinking as he awaited his answer.

Everyone in the political world knew of Gregor's grand vision, he had seen himself as the leader of the new world. During the boundary setting, he was about as pleasant as sour grapes.

However, he had, when you looked at it, chosen the seat of power. Both Pendergrass and Velletri had minor steam vents, even some heated pools. But Sadovka had the Maw. Provided of course, it did not melt him into oblivion. Asha's breath caught in her throat as he stepped closer. She had no love for the man, but he meant security.

Gregor stepped forward, his posture perfect, his eyes purposely avoiding the corpse laying just to the right of the chasm.

He looked out over the throngs of people before he spoke.

"People of the Now Times, you are all here because you are survivors. Not only of the blasts, but of the anarchy and chaos that followed. You deserve a leader who will protect what we have and who will return our civilization to its former glory," he raised his arms to the crowd, shot a harsh look at Enoch and simply stepped off the ledge. Enoch's look of surprise was the first genuine one, anyone had ever seen.

Gasps, sobs, and shouts rose up from the mob. Suspended perfectly above the rim of the Maw was their new Lord and Leader. Unharmed, he floated as the steam held him aloft. Holding his hands up in triumph, he turned back to the platform and gave Enoch a self-satisfied smirk before stepping back onto the craggy rock.

The deafening roar from below drowned out any chance at comments. A miracle had been witnessed. This would become legend.

Asha shook her head slowly, pulling herself back from a set of rarely visited memories. She kept those locked away. It had been that very night she had first met Josiah Carter.

Turning to Lucy, she realized Lilia was praying over her. Bowing her head, she listened to the soft Latin chants she spoke with such love. Finishing, she kissed her on the forehead, taking a long moment before turning to face the others.

"Please let me know when she awakens," she fled the room, unstoppable tear drops spilling over her cheeks.

Mardrich watched a moment in contemplation. Lila was a firecracker. Smart, ambitious, and a true insider of the Maw. She was privy to secrets even the great Lord and Leader was ignorant of.

Not that she had much choice, given who her father was. Lilia had been raised in the convent. Unlike some of the Before Times religions, practitioners of the Maw could have families. Both she and her brother had been born into the Maw. Lilia and Lucy were less than a year apart.

Given the positive and destructive influences of religion since time immortal, it was important to start this time off correctly. Enoch had spent nearly a year with the new and rather overwhelmed Archbishop, sharing with him the tenants he claimed Lucifer himself had imparted to him on a dark desert highway three days after the final bomb obliterated Japan.

Who could dispute him? His contraptions and inventions, his oneness with the scalding steam seemed truly divine. He had given them a second chance after they had quite literally blown up the first one.

His name had spread like wildfire through the Imperiums before there were Imperiums. Even Markov seemed afraid of crossing this nobody from the desert with his big tent and mighty words. Templar had followed his traveling show, improving lives, watching as the survivors crawled out of dusty holes and began to live again, to thrive.

The most held theory was that he would lead the New Times, uniting man under one banner of faith, something that had not been tried since Jesus had also wandered the desert alone looking for answers.

Yet, when the need for real substantial order had become apparent, he was nowhere to be found. Which suited the would-be emperor just fine. He had never cared for Enoch, too much razzle dazzle for his taste. Leadership was about power, fear, and the guns to back it up. He saw little need for faith, before the blasts, or after.

Deliberations began. Three people stepped forward to throw their hats into the ring. He appeared, gone were the faded blue jeans and ripped shirt. In his absence, he had adopted much finer threads, coal black dress pants with a shirt to match, sleeves rolled to the elbow. His worn black boots sticking their glaringly scuffed surfaces from the hems of his perfectly pressed pants. He strode up to the Vatican's gate, placing a hand upon it only to be rewarded with a wicked fork of lighting slashing across the sky with the precision of a scalpel cut.

He had laughed, long and loud, making most around him uncomfortable. Pushing through, he had begun to wander around the grounds, coming upon the triage center for the animals. It was here that he and Mardrich met. Mardrich, had been to a few of the man's services, told himself it was curiosity, a needed escape from the death and sickness around him. But he knew better. There was something about this man. No way of telling if it was bad or good, but it sure was something.

Mardrich had been in the stable accessing the condition of the horses. Some strange disease was working its way through all the horses in the city and Markov had requested Mardrich by name. So far it was perhaps radiation poisoning, perhaps from contaminated ground water or vegetation.

He had just put down a young paint mare when a long shadow fell across him.

"Tis a damn shame," he said, pulling out a shiny switchblade. He began to peel a rather questionable looking green apple.

Mardrich looked up, taking the man in with a practiced eye. He would have guessed him to be in his late forties. His hair more salt than pepper, slicked back and perfectly neat.

"Aye," Mardrich replied.

Following him as he moved to the next horse, slicing a piece of apple; he offered it to the weak animal, who took it, chewing slowly, but gratefully.

"I honestly believe animals are the only innocent bystanders in all of this," he said, glancing over the near dozen white sheets covering the dead.

Mardrich felt himself nodding along with the man. He'd had the same thoughts many times himself.

Examining another mare, he nodded. "Short end of the stick for certain," he mumbled, pleased to find that this one may just make it.

The man regarded him a moment before extending his hand.

"I'm Enoch, "he said.

"Yup, I know." Mardrich said, wiping off his hands on his jeans before accepting the handshake. I've been to a few of your services.

He smiled.

"I heard they sent for you by name, you're the best to be had with animals," he said, leaning against the wall.

"I know my way around," Mardrich replied. This man was starting to make him a might uncomfortable. He never seemed to blink and his eyes bored right through you.

"I have a dog I found along the side of the road a bit back and at first I thought he was just hungry and looking for a home, like a lot of us out there. But I'm starting to think that it is not a dog, and either way, he seems to be sick. I've grown quite accustomed to Moses' company and I was wondering if I could get you to come look at him when you finish here. I can't pay you, per se, but I do have a rather large cache of medical supplies, of the veterinary sort, that I'd be willing to barter if you could see your way to helping out ole Moses," he said, peeling another slice and giving it to the mare who seemed much more enthusiastic, her eyes brightening noticeably.

Mardrich packed up his bag slowly, giving himself time to think. He had not yet been hurting for supplies, Templar had given him anything he requested. Yet he was a practical man. No matter how prepared Templar had been, he doubted very much that animal medicine has been as well stocked as the human varieties, and sooner or later, the well would dry up.

If the time since the blasts had taught him anything, it was to horde the necessities of his life and his trade. He looked up at the man who would go on to help form the Imperiums and conquer the Maw's raw power.

"I can look, but I can't make any promises. More often than not, I find the animals too far gone to be saved; however, if there is a chance to save his life, I will do everything I can," Mardrich hefted his bag, seeing with some relief that the mare looked ever more alert as Enoch fed her the last of the apple.

"Your best is all anyone can ever ask of you my son; don't you ever forget that. I am grateful," Enoch said, walking back towards the gates without another word. Mardrich followed silently. He had to admit curiosity into the inner workings of this man and his devices had sealed the deal for him. He hoped he could save the creature; Enoch was not the kind of guy you wanted to get on the bad side of.

The two of them left the Vatican's grounds. Velletri at that point was still very chaotic and parts of it were not to be traveled by day if it could be helped and by night, not at all. Enoch had set up in what had once been a large open-air market, the area was crowded with onlookers as his silent disciples set the tent in place. The tent itself was odd. If Mardrich had to guess, it had been a circus tent at one point in its incarnation.

Although, pale blue and gray stripes were not something he would have ever pictured for a circus. The crowd parted as Enoch walked through with Mardrich at his heels. Looking around he saw the eyes of the faithful, the hopeful, and the lost. These people had been through so much. They wanted, no, needed a man like this. Food and water may keep the human body alive, but hope was the only food for the soul. He gave them that. He never promised them a return to the life's they had once led. Back to the need for immediate gratification and tech toys. He promised them a hope for survival. A chance to start again, to abolish prejudices and social contracts. To embrace your brothers and sisters and love. He inspired the pursuit of knowledge and science, not a common stance for a man of faith.

Yet, even as a man of faith, he never forced anyone to believe. As he so often said, he was a simple man, given a simple message to share. He emphasized not passing judgment on others. Even the commandments given to him by Lucifer, which would come to be the foundations for the religion of the Maw, were simple. It was a hard pill for many of the old ones to swallow. Their entire lives, Lucifer had represented all things evil. Satan was blamed for heinous crimes, conceived not in some gaping pit of Hell, but in the minds and hearts of men.

Now they were to believe that this dark entity who had been used to frighten them into good deeds, was not as he had been represented. He took pity on mankind, on their greed and destruction. Coming to their aid in a time when God's back had firmly been turned.

Moving through the tents past the ushers who set up hundreds of chairs for tonight's service. Enoch intended to preach tonight about leadership in the Now Times, many thought to throw his own hat into the ring. The place would be packed.

Leading him back behind the pulpit, there was a smaller room. A folding table, a cot, and a large dog bed were all it held. He was indeed a simple man. The animal bed was covered with a blanket that rose in unsteady patterns as the animal beneath it struggled to breathe.

All else forgotten, Mardrich rushed forward dropping to his knees, wincing ever so slightly as they impacted the soft ground. His daddy and granddaddy had suffered in their final years from arthritis, and moments like this reminded him he would not escape it either.

The animal was burrowed into the blankets. He noted blood stains on the blanket. Frowning, he gently pulled it back. He had seen many horrible and grizzly things since the blasts, he was not afraid of the gore. He was more concerned that what he was going to find was yet another animal who was too far gone to save and that always broke his heart.

White and gray ruffled fur met his gaze. He smiled and looked up at Enoch.

"Well, you were right about one thing mister, this ain't no dog. This here is a wolf," he said turning back to study the animal for the cause of its distress.

"Oh, well that would explain the howling," Enoch said with a smirk.

Mardrich only half heard him, his eyes were closed as he felt through the animal's fur searching for the cause of the blood. An ice blue eye regarded him weakly. A weak cough brought droplets of blood from the animal's mouth. Mardrich frowned.

"Has he received any kind of injury, was he struck or attacked?" he asked, feeling gently around his ribcage.

Able shook his head.

"Nah, he's been fine for months, then as soon as we entered Velletri he started slowing down, last few nights he just seems to want to lay around. I've fed him his supper and kept an eye on how much water he's drinking, but as you can see, it's getting worse," Enoch said, his love and concern creasing his brow.

"I think he's got whatever it is that's making the horses sick. It could be an airborne strain of something only communicable to animals. It could be the level of radiation here is still too high for them. I don't know. What I do know is that his lungs are full of fluid, and if I can drain them, I think I can treat him the same as I did the horses. He's weak so there is a chance the procedure could kill him. But I guarantee you, not doing it will," Mardrich said, stroking the magnificent beast's fur softly.

Enoch nodded intently.

"My entire staff, all my supplies are at your disposal. Anything and everything I can do to help, just say the word," he paused thoughtfully for a moment.

"I took him to the local veterinarian not two nights ago, he told me he was an old mangy hound and supplies should not be wasted on a mere companion animal," he continued.

Mardrich's eyes narrowed. "I know the man, I can't say I'm surprised, but I am sorry he spoke to you, and about you like that," he said, stroking the animal's fur. There was something terribly calming about the beast despite its distress.

Enoch beamed. "My gut was right about you. If you learn one thing in the Now Times, trusting your gut should be it."

Mardrich nodded, clearing the table off for surgery.

It had been well after midnight when Mardrich had accepted a cot in one of the volunteer tents. He was exhausted and the clothing he had been dressed in would never come clean. Yet he had done it. Moses was resting comfortably, breathing easy and grateful. He had given Mardrich a nudge with his nose as they had been setting him up in recovery. Their eyes met; an overwhelming feeling of gratitude had washed over him.

Laying there, his mind wandered to the eight horses lost that day. But he had saved a wolf. An animal unseen since the blasts. A majestic and noble creature he'd never seen outside of documentaries.

Enoch had been ecstatic; he had embraced Moses ever so gently and shaken Mardrich's hand with a grip tight enough to leave marks.

Enoch loved hymns and often the tent would sway with the voices of the faithful. It was during a rendition of "Amazing Grace" that Mardrich had been certain that Moses would live. He may have a bit of a time believing all the things being thrown around about God and Satan, but whatever it was that fueled Enoch, it was powerful. The air had been alive with it, his words buzzing through space like arcs of electricity, charging the hearts of those around him who were struggling for a reason to believe.

He had collected his fee after checking on Moses the next day. He has instructed some of Enoch's staff on how to change the dressings. When heading to the supply tent, he had been kept out of the gadgets area buy a rather stern looking man whose head was completely covered in swirling black tribal tattoos. He had been disappointed, but it was hard to feel anything but happy, he found. Just the atmosphere was enough to put a spring in any one's step. Enoch had been unable to see him off, but he had left a note once again expressing his thanks to the man as well as a P.S. that said simply:

"I owe you one."

Mardrich shook his head, pulling his consciousness back from memories that had long since started collecting cobwebs. He glanced at Lucy and hoped her dreams were sweet.

******************************************************************

"Captain, it's time to land." Violet's voice seemed to come from so far away. Sybil had been watching the Sadovkan skyline creep closer and closer.

Sybil did not reply, but the knitting of her brow was enough for Violet to know she had heard her. It was hard to imagine what was going on in the mind of her solemn friend and given the white in her knuckles as she grasped the ships wheel, now was not a good time to pry.

"I'm going to take her in slower than usual, and hover before we land. I want to look around before I put her on the ground. This would be a tricky take off in a hurry and you know how I feel about surprises," Sybil said, attempting a dash of humor at the end only to have it fall flat.

"Shall I go down and scout?" Violet asked.

This was not at all an uncommon practice. While Violet could pilot the Valkyrie in an emergency, she much preferred leaving her in the hands of her creator.

"Yes, and take Orion with you," pulling the sleepy creature from her pocket, she kissed his nose gently.

"Hey sleepy head, check for mines?" she asked.

Orion blinked at her and scurried to Violet's side, climbing into her pocket.

Most people might find the exchange odd, even Violet had wondered how she got the stoat to do her bidding or how she had even trained him to find land mines. She'd never asked, but she owed her life on more than a few occasions to the critter.

Bringing the ship around she lowered it gingerly into the thicket, tree and metal came together in protest as they met. Scraping sounds echoed through the empty night causing both women to freeze. Long drawn out moments passed as she maneuvered the ship into the rather tight space Abe had promised. A few startled birds were the only signs that their presence had been noted.

"Abe needs a refresher course on the dimensions of my ship," Sybil muttered, imagining what kind of scrapes and scratches now adorned her shiny hull.

Violet smirked as she tossed a rope over the side. Both waited a full two minutes before looking over to see if anyone was coming to explore this rope dangling from the sky, but as Abe had promised, this seemed to be a very uninhabited portion of the Sadovkian wilderness.

"You would think only ten miles or so from the fortress grounds there would be, I dunno . . . a guard or something," Violet said, attaching her harness to the rope.

"Let's be honest here, who would want to invade Sadovka?" Sybil said, this attempt at humor earning a snort from her comrade.

"Can't say it was on my to do list," she replied.

With that, she was gone, slipping silently down the rope into the gathering gloom.

Sybil could not breathe until she heard Violet touch ground.

"Son of a broken steam pipe," she heard Violet curse below.

Knowing it to be a curse of aggravation, not of danger, Sybil's hand went instead for the rope than her weapon.

Listening intently, she heard Violet unclip her harness. A large burst of air exploded silently from her lungs as she watched the bioluminescent glow stick wink on.

She always hated this part, she knew she had to stay aboard and make sure the ship was steady, and Violet was more than capable; yet, ever since her run in with the Menglan, she had been more cautious, some might even call it anxious, but she would never admit to that.

Silencing her mind, she listened for the tell-tale chirp that danger was near. It was silent, yet something pulled at her, something was taking advantage of her concentration to pull her in.

In an instant the world around her was reeling, the trees the sky, her ship . . . all of it was gone. She was in a dark room, with large looming shapes scarcely visible in the dim light.

"Find me," words softly spoken from no discernable direction.

Sybil opened her mouth to speak, but just as soon as it had come the strange dark room disappeared.

She opened her eyes to find herself clinging to the rigging of her beloved ship, thick hard ropes pierced her flesh adoring the ship's rail with rivulets of her blood.

Violet's head popped back over the side.

"What the hell boss, I've been calling for a lift for like . . .," her voice trailed off as she saw the splashes of blood. Unlatching her harness, she rushed to her friend, pulling the still dazed Sybil from the rigging gently.

She would have given anything for April to be with them right now, she had always been better with the episodes. Arm slipped around her waist; the warm polished stair welcomed them as Violet held Sybil to her chest. If there had ever been a worse time for Sybil to lose control of Sybil, this was it.

Chapter 10

Abe's voice, which had filled the compartment for well over an hour, finally fell silent. He had told her all he knew, which was decidedly more than he realized when it was all laid out in a timeline. Halfway through his tale realization dawned on him, he'd spent the better part of his life following around a man he knew very little about into dangerous situations.

Each breath required effort; four set of eyes found anywhere to look but at each other.

"I always knew there was something about Josiah, no matter how daft his plans, or how sketchy his excuses. I always believed him, I thought it was love," Jia scoffed quietly.

Ching's fingers did and undid the snaps on her many pockets, Constantine knew the move well, it meant she was thinking heavy thoughts. Ching had always held a deep love for her father, he was her hero. On the nights that found him home, the two of them would sit in front of the hearth swapping stories of adventure, dodging guards, and helping people. Josiah had admired Ching's' want to become a chem runner, her need to care for others came solely from her mother, he would say. Josiah was not exactly what you would call a people person.

Abe gazed out the window, the little voice in his mind wanted to go on with the rest, to tell Jia of his love even now, but enough had been said, it would remain as always, his silent devotion.

"Sadovkian border ahead," The conductor's booming voice penetrated the chamber causing Ching to jump to her feet.

"Like that's worth announcing," she muttered, settling back into her seat. It was easy to see she was hurt; she had been betrayed by the man she worshipped.

Other people, however, thought this was well worth announcing as they crowded up against the windows. Many had never been outside Velletri, a few had not been back since the wall had been built and were anxious to return.

The train stuttered to a stop at the gate, all the files of those scanned had to be transferred to the gate so the entries could be recorded. Given the amount of people on this train, this was going to be awhile.

Those in the compartment sat watching the crowds, staring at the wall, and pondering what could be on the other side.

Ching's foot began to tap. Jia knew it would not be long before her daughter was pacing, her natural state of being was in motion. in the Before Times they would have called it ADD, now it kept her alive.

As if she heard her mother's thoughts, Ching Carter unfolded herself from the seat and began to pace in the limited space of the compartment, making sure to fold her long encompassing robes over her contraband filled cargo pants. The outfit was strangling her, the compartment was stuffy, and she simply could not look into her mother's eyes because she knew the pain there was nowhere as deep as her own. Jia had long ago deduced that Josiah had other women. Ching had her own suspicions, but this was her father and she could never admit to herself what Jia had become resigned to.

Nearly two hours had passed, Ching was ready to climb the walls just to be moving and all attempts at small talk had sputtered out as quickly as they had been born. A sudden jolt landed Ching in her Shadow's lap following a string of very un-acolyte curses. Abe hid a smirk, out of all his children, Ching Carter had inherited Josiah's love of cursing.

Pulling Ching to her feet, they all froze as the compartment was pitched into darkness.

"It's the tunnel. It's only a mile long and occasionally the compartment lights work," Abe said into the darkness as he retained his grip on Ching's hand.

The ride through the dark was long, but even longer for Ching, for she was no longer in the compartment with her loved ones. Her own grasp on Abe's hand slackened as she was ripped from her own space and tossed into a dusty room.

Her eyes narrowed, taking in her foreign surroundings. The room was cavernous, dim light allowed her to see huge gleaming tanks, the copper bouncing the light from an unknown source.

A familiar scent wafted past her nose but was gone before she could identify it.

"Find me," her father's voice, echoing through the room.

"Save me," The voice repeated, yet there was no way to determine its point of origin. Ching spun from side to side, unable to move her feet. Searching for the slightest sign of her father.

Exiting the tunnel, Jia muffled a screamed as her daughter's eyes rolled up into her head, collapsing her once again into the arms of Constantine.

Abe helped him lift her up on to the seat.

"Has she ever done this before?" Abe asked, watching the dazed expression reemerge on Ching's face as parts of her conscious mind found their way back.

"She's had mild ones before. Sometimes she gets dizzy, but nothing like this," Constantine said, panic edging his voice.

"It's the others," Abe said, placing his folded handkerchief over her eyes. They have never all been in the same province before. Sybil must have made it to the rendezvous point," Abe muttered.

Jia grabbed his shoulder, whirling her to face to him.

"Why should it matter if they are all in the same place, what is happening to her?" she demanded.

"I don't know why, but all the girls are . . ., well, gifted, like Josiah. This happens more to Sybil, but she makes more cross wall runs than the other two. Before, they have been mild, because it was only two together, but with all thee and Josiah it must have blown their link," Abraham mused out loud.

He looked up from his stream of thought to see Jia and Constantine staring at him.

"Was that supposed to be an explanation? I am now more confused than when we started," Constantine said, his eyes flicking to Ching's easy breathing.

"Yes, and no, and I don't know. But I'm sure wherever the other two are, they are facing the same as our little lotus.

******************************************************************

Asha accepted the tea from the chambermaid as she watched Lucy out of the corner of her eyes. She was propped up on the pillows with Kyros nestled up beside her. Both had been on the mend and Asha was starting to hope that everything would indeed be alright for the celebration tomorrow evening.

Asha was curious to ask her daughter about what had occurred in the operating suite, something about the Mengelan's presence had agitated her daughter. At first, she just assumed it was his reputation. Yet, the more she looked back on the memory of the encounter, the more she realized it had been a visceral response, a physical sense of revulsion perhaps just from being near him. Lucy had not yet brought it up and she figured it would be best to wait until this anniversary nightmare had ended to broach the subject with her daughter.

Lucy laid the paper down that she had been reading, trying to impress the words upon her brain so she did not spend her entire welcome speech staring at the podium.

"This is very well-written mother; you would think this was something you did often," Lucy said, a smile in her voice which had returned with the return of her beloved bird. His new metal joints and feathers only enhanced his beauty. Lucy would spend long moments staring at the mesh of machine and soft down, the seamlessness of their conjoining seeming almost natural.

Asha winked at her daughter.

"I have written nine out of the ten speeches for this event, and I tell you, I'm running out of creative ways to welcome people to our tropic imperium," she said, a genuine smile finding its way to her lips. Her only child had given her quite a scare and it was nice to see her up and about, even if the Medici had advised bed rest until she was required at the ceremony.

Lucy chuckled.

"Hello . . . it's hot, we are generally cranky people, we have some incredible flowers . . ., oh yes and the Maw, have a nice stay!" she said, finishing her mock speech with a flourish, hands settling heavily upon the bed.

"All the time I could have saved," Asha replied chuckling.

"I tell you little one, I'm ready for this to be over, everyone is so tense, and it's unnerving," Asha said, looking up.

A scream froze in her throat as she looked up from her confession to see her daughter convulsing gently on the bed.

Rushing the bed, she gathered her gently into her arms, she had, had seizures before, but none this violent. The paleness of her daughter's café skin broke the scream from her throat rang through the halls.

"Medici."

Violet eyes searched her best friend's face, watching slowly but surely as whatever prison had held Sybil's mind returned her to the present. The ship had hovered silently for nearly an hour. Violet knowing how vulnerable they were, switched on the reflector; it was not as effective in the treetops, but it beat a blank and right now she had no idea what to do. There was a lot on this ship Violet could accomplish, she was very proud of the skills she had; hell, in an emergency she might be able to pull off a take-off, but a landing like this. In the dark? They had better chances of getting to Mars safely.

Relief flooded her as Sybil closed her eyes and reopened them. She looked more like she did after one of her headaches now than as blank as she had after the attack.

Glancing at the position of the moon and the need to get this thing landed and hidden before sunup, she decided to risk trying to talk to her.

"Hey Captain, If, it's okay, I'd like to bandage the cuts on your hand, so you can. . you know, land the ship?" Violet said. Sybil blinked more rapidly and looked down at weeping cuts on her hands, pulling her the rest of the way back round.

"Gorram it, what is going on around here?" she asked, her voice rusty as if it had been years since its last use, not a mere hour.

"Well as best as I've been able to figure, while I was on the ground dodging poison plants and irritating the weirdest looking dog I've ever seen, you had an episode. It's different than the headache ones and much more intensive than the ones you have when we cross the wall. You've been in La La Land for over an hour and I do believe you were debating walking off the edge of the ship, which I do not recommend while she is in hover.

"An hour! In hover!" Sybil jumped to her feet, running to the stealth controls. Seeing them engaged she turned to look at Violet.

"Pretty sure the only reason you are not Captain is because you refuse to learn the boiler," she said, the panic draining from her expression.

Violet beamed, that was a compliment, and a rare one concerning the ship.

"It hisses, and it's hot, I know the minute I touch it it's simply going to burst," she replied, watching her friend closely.

"Honey, what happened? I mean, do you have any idea where you went, what could have caused you to hurt yourself so?" Violet asked, herding Sybil back to the stairs and beginning the task of bandaging her hands. This she was good at. Sybil's hands were abused, she never gave them a moment's rest, and their care had fallen to Violet when April died.

Sybil closed her eyes, letting the medicine work its way into cuts she knew would be a bane for a couple of days. Searching the dark recesses of her mind, she looked for an explanation, a place to account for the time lost.

"I don't know, I can almost grasp the memory, then it darts away again. All I can seem to recall is a woman screaming 'Medici'." She shook her head. She could still hear the fear and desperation in the woman's voice, the memory alone bringing goosebumps to her arms.

"Let's hope that does not happen again," Violet said, finishing her bandages.

"Now, if you would be so kind, could you land this canoe, it's safe down there," she said, scurrying to avoid Sybil's playful glare.

Taking the helm, she opened the control panels. Fluid movements saw her bandaged fingers dancing over the complex controls as thrusters shut down and the ship began to drift to the ground.

The massive ship set down with much less of a sound then one would expect from such an immense vessel. It was enough to anger the birds and their entrance was announced by the rustling of trees and wings

Pressing up against the mast, Sybil peered out, noting the raccoon that she supposed was Violet's strange dog poking its face from a hole in a tree. Indignance showed in its bioluminescent eyes as it settled back in to rest.

Assured that they were safe and anchored securely, they met in Sybil's office.

"We have two hours to make it to the train station in St. Gregor's square. It appears to be no more than an hour's walk; I'm going to disable the steam conductor in her engine," Sybil preemptively held up her hand to Violet's complaint.

"I can't take the chance of someone finding her and figuring out how to take my baby. This is the point where you tell me that the Valkyrie is an engineering marvel and it would take someone forever to figure it out. But people are smart, and I just can't lose her. Grab the packs and Captain Fancy Pant's package. I will meet you on the ground in thirty," Sybil said, turning to go. A low, angry chittering from Violet's coat pocket caused her to pause.

"Oh, Orion I am so sorry, I forgot to take your report. Please come tell me what you found, little one," she said, holding her arm out tentatively to the creature.

It seemed that he pondered a moment before clawing his way from Violet's pocket to leap to Sybil's arm. The two of them nuzzled as another whispered apology passed from her lips.

"No land mines to the perimeter on all sides, and he says it's not a dog, it's a trash panda." Sybil said, listening to the distinctive squeaks and sounds made by her companion.

"You know, most people who talk to animals get to hug themselves all day," Violet said, always in awe of the connection she shared with the fur ball.

Sybil looked up a movement.

"I am not most people," she said walking away, her boots punctuating her words.

Chapter 11

Ching sat up, Jia's arm protectively around her shoulders, Constantine's hand upon her lower back. Accepting the water from Abe, she fidgeted with her restrictive outfit to get a drink.

"I have no idea how they wear this for any extended period of time," she said, her voice croaking through her lips.

"Devotion, I guess," Constantine said, his eyes had not left his sister since the tunnel lights had illuminated her distress.

She was slowly coming around; it had taken a while to convince her that her hands were not cut as she had sharp phantom pains in her fingers and could swear that she felt blood.

"So, Abe, now that we are all upright wanna give us another run at that explanation?" Constantine asked his eyes flicking to the closed curtains like a man who had spent his life hiding.

Abe sat down and sank into the cushions; he really was going to have some words with Josiah Carter once this was all over.

"I may be completely wrong, so please don't take what I'm saying as gospel, but given that I have spent a lot of time around the Carter clan, things I've noted are starting to fall together."

The same poor Medici who Lucy had ripped apart mere weeks ago moved over her now still form, he had arrived just in time to see the end of the seizure which lasted much longer than any of her other recorded episodes. He checked her vitals a third time. While Asha was a kind woman, he knew her love of this child was as fierce as the Maw and he had no desire to upset her.

Hanging his stethoscope around his neck, he stepped back to face an anxious Asha and Mardrich. He was not sure when he had arrived, as even with his bad foot the man made no sound.

"She's sleeping. I don't know what triggered the seizure. I will be reviewing her food intake for the day, but given how sudden it was and how intensive, I need to have her brain scanned to know for sure. However, given that the ability to do that is gone, I must guess. In most patients with her history of episodes, even if not all of them are seizure in nature, would perform an exploratory brain surgery. Of course, that is not an option for her because of the risk of changing her personality or leaving her comatose. All I can suggest is to watch for the triggers. Once we have those, we can work towards avoiding it the best we can," he said, using his speech to move him towards the door. The Emperor had requested a report on Lucy's health, and he was not a man one kept waiting.

To his great relief, Asha simply nodded.

"Thank you, after this gala is over, we will do everything we can do, even if it means retrieving the Before Times things we need," she said, turning her back to him in dismissal.

Mardrich waited until he heard the man's hurried steps take the right turn at the fork. He was going to see Gregor; he had become aware of Lucy's worsening fits.

"Do you think it has something to do with The Menglan? Could he have put something in her wound? The thread he used. Did he place something inside Kyros that is affecting her? "Asha said before he could speak.

Her voice was thin, its frailty hit his heart like an arrow. This woman was so strong, she had survived so much more than just the blasts. Yet that child could shatter her.

"I don't think so, she has had milder ones in the past. Perhaps all the stress she has been under lately just made this one worse?" he asked, guiding her to the rocking chair she had been sitting in when all this began.

"I, I don't know, but I will give her speech. This stupid thing is less than two days from now and I can't take the chance of her having any more stress on her," Asha said, her shoulders slumped under his resting hand.

Behind her, his expression was thoughtful. Would Gregor accept that? Lucy had a certain fame around the diplomatic circles it would not do for her not to appear, but Gregor would be enraged if she were to appear defective in any way to the people.

Mardrich sighed deeply, his calloused hand scratching over his gray stubble.

"I have all kinds of feelings about this shindig and ain't none of them good. I agree, we need to keep Lucy as shielded as possible. I am here, for what it's worth," he said softly, his eyes lingering on her sleeping face.

"My friend, you have been more of a father to her than either of them could have hoped to be. I am and will be eternally grateful for all the care you have given her. It sets my heart at ease to know she is cared for so. When all this is over, I think an extended trip to the other Imperiums might be good for her health,' Asha said, reaching up to squeeze his hand on her shoulder.

He nodded.

"I have to go into the square, are you going to be okay?" he asked, loathe to leave them, but needing the crate Barbosa was bringing him.

"I am. Oh, can you keep an eye out for Abe? I know he will show up, he always does," she said softly.

Madrich gave a curt nod, he was not entirely sure about Abraham Jones, but she seemed to trust him.

Exiting silently, he made his way to the stable, no one noticed him. He enjoyed his general anonymity. It gave him greater freedom in a court that was so focused on who they could backstab. He enjoyed being a nobody.

Glancing at his motorcycle he smiled, Enoch had sent it to him, all rigged to run on a steam battery. Out of the blue one day it had shown up with a card that simply said: From one old dog to another.

Normally, he would relish the chance to take it to the square, zipping through the side streets, the wind ripping at his hair, the power of the throttle vibrating the chrome. He had no idea exactly how it worked and had never had to fix it or even to charge it.

However, the streets would be packed. You could already hear the din of the assembled crowds in the square as they perused the museums and vendors. Every lodging was jammed. Many had simply brought tents or outdoor sleeping gear. Gregor's propaganda had certainly drawn many.

The estimated remaining population after the blasts had been 3 billion. At least half of that number had been lost to violence, revolution, radiation, and horrendous living conditions. An informal census had been conducted the year prior. Not everyone cooperated with the Imperiums' dictates, so it was impossible to say for sure how many people still inhabited planet Earth, but the conservative estimate was one billion. If he had to guess, he'd have put the number that had streamed into Sadovka at around the five million mark.

The largest concentration of humans in one space since the blasts. The cleanup alone would take months. Moving past his beloved bike, he selected his favorite mare, Nightingale, her chestnut coat shining from her morning bath.

"Let's try not to poop on anyone if we can avoid it," he said, slipping on her bridal. He chuckled to himself, it was quite often his jokes were not appreciated by his menagerie.

****************************************************************

Abe had stopped speaking what felt like an eternity ago. The silence lay over them like a wet blanket. Several times it looked as if someone would break the smothering awkwardness that lay over the compartment, but then nothing.

Finally, Jia cleared her throat.

"For my own recap and to make sure I understand everything as well as I can . . . Josiah has three daughters; all born on the same day, hundreds of miles apart. Ching and Sybil know about each other now, Lucy does not. April is dead and never knew about the others. Asha knows nothing about the others but has always had suspicions. And you . . . you've known everything all along," she said, her eyes resting on Abe.

She wanted to be angry with him as he could have told her. He should have, especially given the things that had passed between them. Now they were on the run, caught up in some insane plan cooked up by a man she wondered if she even actually knew. Abe looked away a long moment before answering.

"I have spent a fair number of years following that man around on one exploit after another, even as his commanding officer. Josiah has a way about him," he said, his eyes finding a very interesting piece of seat cushion to examine.

The silence returned as the car lurched forward, they were near the gate now, probably only two or three compartments before them. Abe set about arranging the cabin so that the window to the guard was clear and everyone looked very separate.

"I'm going to have to go soon, I will have to be scanned in with the rest of the crew, once we are docked. I need stay behind and clean the train. I need to uphold this job in case we can't get back out any other way," he said, giving Ching a tight hug.

"I will meet you at the point in the forest in twenty-four hours. I will take what I can from the train in supplies. Let's just hope your air pirate is half of what her tales say she is," he said with a swift nod to Abe and a long hug to Jia. He slipped out the door just as the train lurched forward again.

Peering out the widow he could see the tunnel booth, they were next.

"Well ladies, it's time to pretend like we don't know each other and that we all want to go to Sadovka," Abe said, settling in the corner nearest the window, he wanted the guard to talk to him first.

Jia and Ching nodded, adjusting their robes to be as concealing as possible. The train lurched again, moving them towards the window. Jia's breath became audible as they inched forward, the pace painfully slow.

Abe made an exaggerating shushing gesture at her as he stood to open the window. As the glass raised a gush of hot, moist air filled the cabin, causing Abe to cough into the face of the guard.

"I am so sorry my man," he said, his voice apologetic.

Seeing Abe's uniform, the guard in the booth relaxed a bit.

"It happens more than I'd like to admit. People aren't used to the air here, they cough for weeks after changing zones," he said, casually scanning Abe's arm.

"Yeah, I've had Zonexia a few times man, it's rough. I do not envy you brother, but when I get home, I will put in for an easier post somewhere for you," he said, noting the awe in his eyes when Abe's clearance rank came up on the screen.

"It is much appreciated. Thank you, Sir. I hope you enjoy your time here. Now, ladies?" he said, motioning Jia and Ching to come forward.

Abe noted that he made a point of not asking them questions but pointing to information on their documents and asking simple yes or no nods. They responded and he bowed silently to thank them.

"Now I will just run our contraband scanner over the compartment. We have found other people trying to sneak things in, inside the body of the train. Not that anyone in this car would be suspected of such but they may have hidden things before people boarded," he explained as he configured buttons on the panel.

Ching turned away from the guard, her eyes catching Abe's, panic spilling from them. The red beam of light passed over the cabin starting at the top and making its way towards the floor.

"Please be seated, this won't harm you or penetrate clothing; so just sit back and relax it, only takes around eight minutes or so," The guard said, his tone friendly.

Before they could comply, a booming siren filled the tunnel. The blaring sound bounced off the walls in agonizing echoes. The soft white lights replaced by harsh red and white alternating flashes.

"Be calm," Abe hissed at his companions.

"This is a medical alert code; it means someone on the train is having a medical problem. We are all finished and okay here, and will be moving on soon, yes?"

Abe said, his tone fatherly as he directed the question to the guard who was trying to configure the scan.

Nodding, he pressed the large brass button to his left. In a hissing release of steam the car was uncoupled from the guard station. The few more long whistles released as they pulled away masking the collective sighs of relief.

Abe lay across his entire bench seat, his hat over his face. Jia and Ching returning to their original seats.

"Abe?" Ching's voice soft as she tried to get his attention.

For a moment no response came, and just as she had decided he had fallen asleep, he lifted his hat and turned to look at her.

"Yes, little lotus?" he replied, not allowing his eyes to fall to Jia. It was hard to not comfort her.

"Thank you. You have been a consistent force of protection in my . . ." she paused.

"Well . . ., in all of our lives and I have no idea how this mess is going to shake loose, but I need you to know that," she sat back quietly, staring out the window at the blank tunnel wall.

Abe smiled slightly before dropping his hat back over this face.

"I do what I can," he said softly, letting the car descend into deep silence as they waited for the tunnel to end.

The train's slow pace was murder for Ching, whose still spell lasted less than ten minutes before she was up and pacing again.

"It's going to be midnight before we reach the square!" she exclaimed at one point.

"I set up all rendezvous points with a window, plus I accounted for the trains being slow and was kinda hoping we would come in, in the dark," Abe replied, his voice calm but showing no evidence of the sleep he feigned.

"Oh," she replied.

******************************************************************

"I don't think I shall ever get used to the smell of Sadovka," Violet said. They worked their way silently along side streets. Any flash of red causing them to press themselves into dark nooks and shadowy alcoves. Those were Sadovikan military. Gregor was the only leader to have a militia separate from Templar. It seemed so hard to believe the two men were in collusion when they so often clashed sabers.

"Were it up to me, I'd never smell it again," Sybil hissed under her breath. The throngs of strangers flooding the square were a blessing and a curse, she thought as her eyes scanned over the mob of the faceless faithful. Skins of all shades were present, long ago race barriers had fallen away among the common man. Cooperation was the only form of survival in the Now Times and it would be ridicules to cut off a helping hand simply because of what color it was clothed in. Being with Abe would make this feel less like one of her less than planned adventures. He had been the only father she had ever known and even with the impending meeting of her actual father on the horizon, it was more for the comfort of Abe's presence she needed.

"There," Violet hissed, pointing to the overly ornate statue of Gregor standing in the far corner of the square.

"Good eyes," Sybil said, turning her course to move towards the appointed meeting place. Tucking her chin in, she made her way through the living mass. Voices, smells, sounds, and colors surrounded her in the swell of humanity. Looking up, she realized she was too far right to reach the statue. The crowd's incessant movement was making it hard to plot a direct course to the other side. Reorienting herself, she reached back to find Violet's hand attached firmly to the back of her jacket. This was not a place to get lost in.

"Gregor is due to speak in less than an hour!" A random women's voice exclaimed as they shoved through.

"Well, at least I know we are on time," Sybil muttered, trying to keep her bearings as the way and movement of the crowd disoriented her. She felt her temper crashing over her body in waves as human after human bumped, shoved, stepped on, and elbowed past her, just as intent on their destination as she was on hers.

Looking up, the gaudy statue of Gregor loomed over them. Pale, waxen marble made up the body while gold and colored stones adorned the effigy.

"Just another fifty feet or so," she turned to say to Violet. Before the words could cross her lips a sharp tug at her satchel sent the world spinning as she failed to keep her balance by grabbing at anything around her.

"Sybil!" she heard Violet shout, but her voice was distant and blurred. She felt the warm stones beneath her, comforting as she willed her vision to stop spinning. The tugging at her satchel continued. She realized it was not just her vision that was moving. She was being drug through the crowd by someone who was very intent on removing her package. A few people paused to look down at a woman being drug through the crowd while another brightly colored head fought to catch her. But for the most part, they were just three more rhythms in the pulsing of the square.

Attempting to reach out for anything to stop the momentum, her fingers grasped the edge of a wrought iron fence. She hissed loudly as three nails were rendered from her fingertips as her fingers wrapped around the warm metal, halting her rough journey across the square. Another sharp tug at her bag strap wrenched her nearly from her safety before another set of smaller arms wrapped themselves around her, further anchoring her to the spot. Wiping the sweat and soot from her face she swiveled around to find her attacker only to be met with walls of humans moving to and fro.

For a moment she let Violet hold her. Her mind was perhaps not completely clear, her fingers stung, and her back would be sporting some rather extreme bruising. As she stood slowly, willing her legs not to shake, she saw with ironic amusement that she now stood at the foot of the very statue she had been trying to get to.

Her relief lasted mere moments before the red swatches converging on her position entered her eyesight.

"Shit" she muttered.

"What?" Violet said, searching her for another injury.

"Looks like my attempted mugging has drawn the attention of Sadovka's best and brightest," she said, looking pointedly as she tried to count the number of officers moving towards her.

"Take this and hide," Sybil said, shoving the satchel hard into Violet's chest before shoving her into the crowd, letting her fade into its welcome anonymity.

"Sybil Hook!" one of the men shouted as they surrounded her. People began to stop, checking out the spectacle.

"It's Captain. I fly an airship; in fact, it is my ship which in fact makes me Captain. So, now that we are clear on our introductions, what is it I can do for you, numerous gentlemen in your festive red coats?" she asked, hoping to give Violet adequate time to hide.

"Fine then . . . Captain," the largest guard sneered. He was a good six inches taller than Sybil, which given her own six feet, bordered on impressive. His nose had been broken, multiple times, and he sported a fresh black eye.

"Looks like crowd control might not be going so well for you guys, so I understand if you would want to recruit help. However, I am not permitted to work in this Imperium," she said, flashing a smile.

"Just cuff her," another guard to the right said.

"She knows why, but what she doesn't know is that the Menglan is here and I bet he'd love another shot at that pretty face," the first guard said, his brutish face split into an idiotic grin.

She rolled her eyes, not to hide fear, but rage. She had wanted many times to run across him again. While the circumstances were not important, his death would happen.

Holding her hands out in front of her, she allowed herself to be cuffed and led away. She took just one last glance over her shoulder, her gray eyes scanning the base of the statue and caught sight of Violet's boot. Uttering a soft whistle, her pocket rustled ever so slightly before a dark shape slunk towards the boot.

Violet looked down at Orion, his worried face not bringing her hope.

"It's all right little guy, Abe will be here soon and then the others . . . and hey, the palace is where we were going anyway, right?" she said, looking into his starry eyes, hoping for some of the understanding that seemed to flow so freely between him and his Captain.

He blinked slowly before burrowing down into her pocket.

"Fifteen more minutes until the festivities begin! Did you see that criminal they took out? Some sort of assassin!" A woman's voice said.

Abe is supposed to be there right as the speech started, but he had an hour to work with. So, all she could do was wait there. Who knew what would happen to her inside Gregor's ashen fortress, its red marble façade long ago given over to the soot that blows from the Maw, giving it the living, pulsing appearance of being part of the great scar, itself.

She looked away from it, a knot forming in her stomach. What if Abe was also captured or if this Ching girl wouldn't come? It was perfectly rational upon learning that your father had two other daughters the exact same age as you to be rather uninspired to risk life and limb for the man whose actions perpetrated all this. She had no contingency plan. None of her plans had ever not included Sybil. Even if they had been separated, Sybil had planned for that. Being alone was never part of the plan. This was more than she could handle.

Placing her head on her knees to hide the sobs that now wracked her body, she shrunk further into the maintenance doorway, hoping to become invisible.

"Violet!" An unfamiliar voice hissed in her ear. Jerking awake, she instinctively shoved the stranger away from her crate.

She was met with a string of colorful curses as two dark shadows helped the third up. They all wore common cloaks, many newcomers here liked them as they helped provide a better rate of acclimation. They reminded Violet of the old Baja jackets they found in that California trade store. But with a face cowl of Templar filter technology.

Clutching the crate to her chest she looked around. The crowds were pressing into the square, listening to the speakers welcoming everyone and telling them the schedule of events. It had grown dark.

Her eyes flicked to the right looking for a place to run when the sleeve of a very familiar army jacket caught her eye.

"Abe," she whispered.

He nodded, motioning for her to follow them. Making their way through boxes and stacks they found themselves in the deserted shipping district. Everyone would be at the festivities as all work was suspended. That in and of itself being so very uncommon, that people were taking advantage of it.

Violet looked at the others cautiously, there were three others and she realized one must be Sybil's sister.

"Um, sorry about shoving you. You caught me off guard," she says to the one she knocked over.

"Don't worry about it, we will do all the formal stuff later. I'm Ching, That's Jia," she said, gesturing to the other dark shape.

"Where is this Sybil?" she asked.

Violet's eyes narrowed.

"Captain Sybil Josiah Carter, also known as Captain Hook, was taken to the fortress by Gregor's guard after someone tried to steal this package, we were supposed to deliver to some guy named Mardrich," she said, making sure her pride and love for her captain punctuated every word she said.

"I know who he is. He works for Asha and by extension Gregor, he's our way in to get everyone else out," Abe said, turning to face the fortress, his least favorite of any of the visits. Not because he didn't like Lucy or Asha, but he hated this place, that man, and Josiah for putting him in the situation every time he had to be there.

"Give her a hood. Don't worry kid, we will get your captain out so she can get all the rest of us out of here," Abe said, leaning in so she could see his wink.

"I have Orion. She sent him back to me," she said, donning the hood, loathing the clingy nature of the fabric.

"Excellent, he can follow her scent. That will make it easier to get her out. See, she knew we would come for her," Abe said, offering a reassuring half hug around Violet's shoulders. He cringed slightly, she felt so tiny and frail. All the girls, so young, so willing to do whatever must be done. They had been born into a world that was a remnant, a shell of what had become the downfall of man. Greed, consumerism, materialistic desires. He'd been just as guilty as the rest. Always looking to the future but never to the consequence. No one expected the earth to die. No one without a tin foil hat ever predicted full scale nuclear war. Yet, here he stood with children. Children who understood what it took to survive. Children whom he hoped would someday undo all that his generation had done.

Shaking his head, he drew in a deep breath.

"I know Mardrich works primarily in the stables. With all the big to do in town we should be able to hide there and hope he doesn't stay around for the festive folk dancing," Abe said, leading them through narrow passageways and along sooty corridors.

Approaching the stables, Abe was surprised and slightly suspicious to see Mardrich leaned up against the doors to the barn smoking a pipe.

"I don't know if you know who I am," Abe began, taking his hood off to give the man full view of his face.

"I'm-"

"You are Captain Abraham Jones, Templar, Special Assignment Squad. Asha said to keep an eye out for you, but this was not quite what I was expecting. Who is the crew?" he said, gesturing to the others.

Looking around cautiously, Abe nodded, and they removed the hooded portions of their jackets.

"This is Jia Carter, Ching Josiah Carter, and Violet. It would take a lot of time to explain to you who belongs where and why, but what I can say is I have your package, but Sy . . . Captain Hook was taken in the square," he said, glancing around, his hackles raised.

"What are your plans for Lucy? Do you intend to introduce her to this other child of that man? I know far more than you think I do, Abraham Jones; I have been with Lucy since she drew her first breath. What makes you think I'm going to let you stride in here and disrupt her already fragile health because . . . whatever reason . . . you've chosen now to need her?" Taking the package, he placed it gently inside the stable doors, covering it with straw. Closing the doors softly, he leaned up against them, his arms over his chest. Not necessarily threatening, but steadfast in his denial of their entry.

Abe's brow furrowed deeply. This was not a roadblock he had anticipated; it had never occurred to him that someone who he had considered on their side might not be. Sizing up the man, he knew that were it to come down to fisticuffs, he could take him. Yet, that was the least desirable outcome. This man had many ways to make this entire thing easier. So, diplomacy would have to come first.

"I understand your love for Lucy, and I do not in any way intend to harm her. However, her sisters and her father need her. I wish I had details I could tell you of the grand plan and reasons, but to be blunt, I really don't know much more than you do. I know we must rescue the Captain and Josiah, and then get out of here. Whatever Josiah is up to, that he needs all our help, I can only hazard to guess. I can't say your Lucy will be safe. I can't guarantee that we will all walk out of here alive. But I do promise you this, if we give her the chance, if Lucy is presented with the information and chooses not to come along, then we will let her be. I can't and won't force her, but I have to at least give her the knowledge so she can make her own choices," Abe said, watching the gears turn in the other man's head.

Mardrich shook his head no, sparks and ashes flying from the bowl of his pipe as he tapped it out against his heavy boot.

Abe's heart sank as he readied himself to knock the man cold.

"I don't agree with this, and I bet you Asha is going to disagree even more. However, Lucy is, well . . ., she's Lucy and the wrath incurred were she to find out what was hidden from her is far more dangerous than whatever adventure you have planned," he said, stepping away from the doors. He turned his back to the group.

"We will go up through the servant's tunnels. I suggest we go to Lucy's room before we do the prison break, just in case that gets dicey," Mardrich said as he began walking, not glancing back to see if they followed.

Abe looked at the others and shrugged. He was not quite sure he trusted this man, given his disdain for their purpose, but options were not overly available. While this may end up being the wrong path, for now it was the one they would walk.

A nondescript door in the base of the fortress swung silently inward as Mardrich flashed his barcode across the scanner.

The group stepped inside, blinking rapidly. Violet attempted to force her eyes to adjust to the visceral lighting that graced the lower halls of the fortress. The light in Sadovka had never returned to the Before Times colors, no skies of blue or fields of green were to be found here. Crimson light tinted the soot coated air causing a hazy distorted look that most became accustomed to. Many houses were built with massive openings to allow for air flow in order to prevent soot accumulation. In common homes it piled up along the doorsteps, lining the windows with palpable gloom.

They walked on, silently huddled against the wall, although their caution seemed for not as the lower halls were deserted.

"We have one hour until Lucy will be due on the stage. Given her episode, Asha will be speaking in her place, but Gregor will put her on display. Your captain will be in the holding cells. Now, here is where you run into a problem. To the right are the stairs to the cells, to the left are the stairs up to the suites. I know where both are, but I can only take you to one at a time and given that after the speeches this place is going to flood with party guests curious to see how the royals live. You have choices to make," he said, his face passive.

Abe frowned as he had no idea where Josiah was. They had not chosen to inform Mardrich of the third requirement of their adventure and he was hesitant to. This man was a loose cannon. He could, at any moment, inform Gregor of their presence; Ching was wanted, Jia had been stolen from Templar, Sybil was wanted by the Menglan, and well everyone's police. There was that and explaining that his favored daughter belonged to a rogue Templar soldier who was hiding somewhere in his fortress. It did not sound like news that would make him overly happy. Especially not with the entirety of the three Imperiums watching.

"I know how to get to the suites. Ching . . . Jia . . . come with me. Violet go with Mardrich.

Before the final syllable had dropped from his lips, Ching was seizing. Her body shook silently, the violence banging her against the smooth floor.

Violet and Mardrich stood back as the others comforted her through another episode.

"The pipes, it's in the pipes, canister, find me," Ching's voiced hissed from behind gritted teeth.

Mardrich watched, his brow furrowing. He'd witnessed this happen to Lucy. He resisted the urge to bolt up the stairs and check on her.

Abe, and Jia formed a tight circle around her, holding her vibrating form against the warm floor as Violet scanned the empty halls.

"Josiah," Abe said.

"If we survive this, that man has a lot of questions to answer," Jia said, cradling her daughter's head as the fit subsided.

"I'm okay, I'm okay," Ching said, pushing people away, her body straining with her efforts to stand.

"I heard his voice; I smelled his aftershave. I think it's his way of communicating," Ching said, her nimble fingers massaging away the blooming headache behind her eyes.

"Look, I don't know what's going on, but time is ticking. If you want me to take you to your Captain, we need to do it before Lucy hits the stage. I must be there; you know in case . . .," Mardrich said.

Jia smiled softly; this man truly loves this child. Given the circumstances, he was a much better father figure than the other two could have been or were.

"How do we know where to meet back up?" Violet asked, each word punctuated with a step towards the right hall.

"Pipes," Ching said absently.

"Steam pipes? There are hundreds of miles of them in Sadovka. I mean . . . it is our thing. Water pipes?" Mardrich said, his hands clenching and unclenching as time slipped by.

"I don't know, they would be special, something specific, I think.," Ching shrugged.

Violet began walking further down the right hallway, her aggravation growing.

"Guys," she started, but the rest of her statement was drowned out by the majestic power chord that echoed through the halls.

"The organ!" Mardrich said.

"It's Gregor's pride and joy. It's a huge steam organ, has all kinds of fancy buttons for effects and such, but it has very special pipes," he explained.

"But it sits up on the stage. I can't imagine this person would be hiding there, unless he's down in the tunnels. The pipes run down through the entire fortress and are fed by the Maw itself. Now that . . ., that would be a good place to hide," Mardrich added.

"Okay, find pipes, let's go get Sybil, Lucy, and Josiah; and get out of here before we end up on pikes at the front gate!" Violet said, her back against the door leading down.

For a moment, no one spoke as the gravity hit them. For one of them, this was an executable offence, simply sneaking into the Imperium alone was enough without any of the unique flavor each criminal offence would offer.

"There is no time to get Lucy before she goes and if she doesn't show up, you are going to have Templar up your arse," Mardrich said, furrows etching his brow.

Silence reigned as decisions were weighed.

"Do you intend to take Lucy out of here?" Mardrich asked, his voice low.

"We do," Abe replied. He was not sure honesty was the best course; however, time was nearly gone.

"I'll send for Lila; she won't go without her. Captain, you go up the maintenance stairs, there is a small hall off the side stage. Grab her and Asha as they depart, then just go down until you can't anymore. You will be able to find the organ. Just . . ., well, follow the pipes. We will get the pirate and meet you there."

"Who is Lila?" Ching asked, but received no answer from Mardrich's retreating.

"Better not be another daughter," Jia said softly.

"No, she is Lucy's paramour," Abe said, a finger to his lips as he pushed open the door, unsure what would be on the other side.

The hall stretched out silently before them. Deep, recessed lights gave the cramped space a claustrophobic air. This was not a place meant to be walked by Gregor and his ilk. This was a space for the unseen, the hands that kept the shiny empire running were just as shunned and hidden as they had been in Before Time. For all the changes that had come, man's need to lord over other men had only become stronger.

Mardrich opened a similar door, but one with much more grim connotations. This also was not for the high class. This was for ones who would likely never again see the light of day. Glancing behind him at the young girl mirroring his every step.

"I want to say thank you," he said, his voice low.

"For?" Violet asked, her eyebrows quirking.

"For bringing me my package from Brad," he replied, keeping her to his right as they moved through the deserted mazes towards the holding cells.

"Brad?" she asked, a mere moment before the realization dawned on her face.

"His name is Brad?" she laughed softly shaking her head, "Oh, Sybil's gonna love this."

Mardrich chuckled, "He's a good kid. He's mentioned you and your captain a few times."

"Oh?" Violet said, glad the dim lighting could not give away the high blush she felt rising to her cheeks.

"Yup," he replied, leaving her desire for detail hanging.

The sound of boots approaching silenced any further questioning. Assuming a stalwart stance beside her, he roughly pulled her forward, holding her tightly in his grasp.

"Be belligerent," he whispered into her ear before jerking her body as if she were pulling against him.

"Get off me you Pipe banger," she spat at him loudly enough to echo down the halls.

"He raised an eyebrow, impressed before slipping into his role.

"Shut up Horse thief," he said, loudly letting his voice be clearly heard by the approaching boots with quickened at the sound.

Around the final bend before the cell block came two uniformed guards. Mardrich was pleased to see he knew one of them from the riding club, that was going to help.

"Mardrich, what do we have here?" he said, his oily voice reminding Mardrich of why he was only an acquaintance and not a friend.

"Ah . . . well Jordeen, we have a horse thief who was trying to make off with some of my horses during the festivities. Caught her myself."

Violet stared at the ground, afraid to make eye contact and give away the con.

"I nabbed her but could not find hide nor hair of a page to send her with. Guess they are all watching the hoopla. Had to walk here all the way here myself," he said, stating the obvious for the benefit of feigned anger.

Jordeen nodded, clucking his disapproval.

"I understand we drew short lots for this assignment," he said, his partner grunting in agreement.

"Do you mind processing her yourself? I know it's a lot to ask, but it's chow time and we are starving," Jordeen said, his eyes roving over Violet's body, his intent clear.

Mardrich felt a rage at this blatant disregard for his new friend, but roles had to be played.

"Yeah, I can. Is decontamination ready?" he asked, feeling Violet flinch beside him.

"No, this stupid bitch pirate came through a few hours ago, threw a helluva fit and cracked two of the walls," he said, tugging none to playfully on Violet's hair.

"I see," he said, coughing to hide the smirk on his face.

She is most definitely related to Lucy, he thought, knowing Violet's down face hid a smirk.

"You will have to write her up and add it to the database by hand. Bio's and all, I'm afraid," Jordeen said.

"Although, if you need help with her Bio's, I could stick around," he said with a wink that caused Mardrich's stomach to turn.

"Nah, you boys go get some good chow before all the blue bloods get it," he replied, careful not to sound too eager to have them gone.

"Yeah, it's not like she's going anywhere," Jordeen said with a smirk and a short slap to her ass before they continued the long climb up.

The pair waited until their footsteps had faded before relaxing.

"Sorry about him, he's kinda . . . well, a pipe banger," he replied.

"Yeah, sorry about that, but you said be belligerent," she said

Mardrich smiled. This girl had spunk; it was good to know that Lucy would be in excellent company.

"I was impressed, honestly, I didn't know you were Sadovkan," he replied as they made their way ever downward. Condensation appeared on the smooth stone as they made their way ever closer to the Maw.

She laughed.

"I'm not, I'm from Vellteri originally; however, travels with Sybil have given me a rather colorful vocabulary," she said, pride gleaming in her eyes as they came upon the decontamination bio chamber. Cracked lights and broken glass gave witness to Sybil's rage.

"Do I even want to know what goes on in there that would cause her to behave this way?" Violet asked, following Mardrich around to an ancient metal desk with its roots in Before Times.

"Well, they strip you naked in front of the guards, put you in and allow the scanners to measure all your biometrics. Then you are sprayed and cleaned with chemicals and coated in Linus to protect your skin down here," he replied, looking none too pleased that this was standard operations.

Violet's face crumbled.

"Poor Sybil," was all she could say, hoping she caused the havoc before they managed to do any of those things to her.

"Sit down kid, for us to access the cell block. I'm going to have to input you. It's going to take a few minutes, but hopefully those two are much too busy ogling the women and stuffing their faces to remember duty.

Violet glanced at the heavy steel door, its gleaming surface long tarnished by heat and soot. Somewhere in the labyrinth beyond lay her best friend.

She sat down with an exaggerated sigh; inaction always made her fidgety.

More than a quarter of a mile deeper in the stone fortress sat Sybil. Shifting again and again to make music with the clinks of her leg irons. She had just about perfected Jingle Bells when a voice from outside her cell spoke.

"Having fun?" the voice asked.

Moving from the stone bench to the door, Sybil peered through the bars of the small window. She could see nothing but the rows of doors mirroring hers on both sides of the hall.

"Not really, probably have a lot more fun out there," she said, hoping for a reply.

"I have no doubt of that, little one." The voice came from the cell across the hall. The voice was female, but with a heavy Sadovkan accent. One more commonly found in the lower provincial classes.

Thrilled to not be alone, Sybil leaned against the door.

"What you in for?" she asked, remembering the line from a book.

She laughed a moment; it was a bitter sardonic sound.

"I am imprisoned because I was in a Null colony. They took my children, numbered them and gave them away. But at least they were not executed. They had never been given a chance to be counted and automatically assumed deviants simply because of who they were born to," she replied.

The nulls, the voids, the ghosts. They had children, families, and communities. They were not just a force of resistance fighters. This woman had never been given a choice. She could be marked and controlled or live free and suffer on the edges of society. Sybil looked down at her own number. She knew what it meant. It meant tracking, control, subjugation of the populace.

But what else did it mean? It meant she was free to live in her designated land. She could purchase food, receive medications, be protected by her community, and in Pendergrass there was little mind paid to the overarching rulers. People lived their lives the best they could with the protections provided them by ink on their skin.

"You are the air pirate? Captain Hook?" the voice asked again, nearer to the door.

"Yes, but please call me Sybil. I'm so very sorry for what was done to you, what was taken from you. I know life is tough on the edges, but even with my raids I am safe, numbered, and protected because I was born to someone with a number," she said, hearing her voice clog with emotion

"Don't get me wrong, I've no love for Gregor or his kind; however, my youngest child died at the age of five. From the measles, because, you see . . . they were never vaccinated. Medicine sometimes comes from pirates, and outlaws, but not always when it's needed. Helping us gets you imprisoned or worse. My children are safe from that, safe from raids that land you here, safe from the devil in the train. I will face this; I will walk, head held high when they come to lead me to my fate. A fate of which you will soon be aware," she said, a soft sigh escaping her lips.

Sybil's hope crumbled. She had assumed they would come for her, Violet, Abe, this sister. But what if they didn't. Her list of crimes was more than long enough for her to be executed in town square. A sigh of despair escaped from her lips.

"Don't worry little dove, you will have a chance. For me, it will be execution with the other rebels they manage to catch during the party. For you . . . well, you are going to Heaven," she said, a wave of fear in her voice.

"I heard them talking before they brought you down. The Menglan is to be notified, and he's to have you. Now I know that sounds scary, but we have all heard the story and of your escape. Hell, your scar is legendary in some circles," she replied.

"I . . ., I had no idea. I mean, I guess I figured being an air pirate, I would be known, but I never really thought about being legendary," she said, leaning heavily against the door. Up until this mission, everything had been a flow. Flying, fighting, stealing, and sharing. One moment to the next. It had never occurred to her to look to the greater scheme. That people like this woman knew of her and she had not, until this moment, even pondered her existence.

"May I ask your name?" Sybil said, hoping her inner turmoil was not apparent.

"My name is Mary Magdalena. I am pleased to know you Sybil," she replied.

"Well, I'm going to tell you this Mary. You nor I are headed for death or Heaven. I have friends I came with. They will come for us, and I promise I won't leave without you," she said, forcing a brave tone.

"That's a wonderful sentiment, little dove. I truly hope your friends do come. I don't much like the idea of swinging from a rope for the pleasure of Plutocrats," Mary said, forcing some hope into her tone.

The air was consumed by the heaviness of the paths before them. They would swing or they would fly. There was no in between. Sybil had never felt so helpless in all her life.

******************************************************************

Abe moved the group down the hall, pleased to find them unoccupied. Must be a lot of work to host such a party as the one he could hear above. Sighting the stairs, he took a deep breath. There was so much that could go wrong. They could run into security, party goers or worse, Gregor himself, as they attempt to extract Lucy and her mother. Another organ cord struck, causing Ching to clap her hands over her ears.

"It's too much," Ching said when Abe glanced back at her.

"Much like the man it belongs to," he mumbled in reply. The din started to die down and he knew the time had come for speeches.

"It's go time," he said, feeling none of the bravado he displayed as he pulled open the service door.

For a moment he feared Mardrich had led him astray. The room inside was pitch black, or so it appeared at first as his eyes grew accustomed to the red tinted darkness. He saw that they had come in beside the thick stage curtain. Deep folds of velvet were all that separated him and his rebel band from the eyes of thousands of people. Holding his finger to his lips, they entered slightly, keeping his back to the wall behind him, not wanting to move the curtain in the slightest.

The first voice he heard caused him to stumble, nearly giving away their position. It was Markov. He was droning on about the advancement of humanity, to look to Templar for the future, and realize that all our best interests lie in the Regime's heart.

Abe sighed silently, not one of those men out there prophesying the future gave a single damn about any of the lives under them. Edging closer to the opening, he could see Markov's back as he stood at the overly gilded podium. Turning away, his head snapped back so fast Ching put her fists up. Motioning for them to stay put, he crept as close as he dared to the curtain. The closer he got, the further his heart sunk. Positioned under the podium were two gas masks. On the stage were Asha, Markov, Lucy, Gregor, Maxwell Harcourt the 3rd, and Contessa Victoria Keyes Stonechat.

His gut rolled; something was about to happen. Something that Josiah was trying to prevent. This was no celebration, but a trap. He knew without a doubt those masks were meant only for Markov and Gregor. Whatever it was they were about to subject the masses to; they wanted no part of themselves.

He turned to the others, panic in his eyes though his voice remained calm.

"We have to get them and get the hell out of here; they are planning to release something airborne into the crowds," he said, his voice so low that all had to lean in to hear him.

Jia's eyes went wide, as she looked at her daughter.

"Forget the girl, it's too risky. We have to get to Josiah and get out!" she said, her tone a bit too loud causing everyone to cringe.

Abe just shook his head, turning his back on her idea of abandoning Lucy and Asha to the hands of madmen.

Asha stood; her graceful form silhouetted by the bright lights.

"First, I want to welcome you all to the wonderful land of Sadovka," she began. Abe's attention was focused on Markov and Gregor, who were whispering covertly, mouths hidden from the crowd.

Abe felt his palms grow sweaty. So much of the plan rested on his ability to grab the two of them into the darkness and get to Josiah. A mere second too late in grabbing a sleeve and they would be intercepted by the Templar guard.

Lost in his musing, Abe jumped when he felt Ching pinch him. She nodded; her gesture vague in the dim lights reflected from the stage. He noted that Asha had finished speaking. Everyone was being moved from the stage, so Gregor could perform. It was go time.

Leaning as far as he could to avoid the glare of light through the slightly parted curtain, he waited, his breath stuck in his throat, for a glimmer of Asha's gown to be visible. Behind him the other two women held their breath. Jia's heart was thudding at the thought of coming face-to-face with her husband's mistress and other daughter. The notion of getting out alive with yet another daughter raged within her skull. Ching was pleased to find herself oddly calm, almost too calm, as if something was sedating her.

A flash of gold, Abe's hand struck from the dark. Asha's voice squeaked out a cry, her fingers grasping wildly for Lucy. Turning into the pitch, Lucy's eyes tried to adjust to the strange scene before her. For a brief second, her eyes met Ching's before they both collapsed.

Boots moving cautiously through the gloom, no one wanted to be responsible for ruining Gregor's show.

Taking a chance, Abe spoke.

"Templar guard, I am Captain Abraham Jones. I am here to assist Asha with Lucy who has fainted. Quietly, as to not disturb the party, please head for a Medici immediately." His voice was a low commanding whisper.

Removing his hand from Asha's mouth, he nodded towards the slumped women and the door, hoping she understood.

"Yes, please hurry, but do not mention this to anyone," she said, her commanding tone leaving little room to argue.

Abe's shoulders relaxed. Asha knelt beside her daughter, glancing over to see another mother bent over a child.

"Abe why is it you can never just visit anymore?" she asked softly.

"I'm always up for fun," he said, raising his voice just enough to still be covered by the crowd and shuffling on stage.

"Sorry Asha, we have to go. Gregor is planning something, and you and Lucy are in danger." Asha glanced out through the curtains, seeing the silhouette of the man she had been forced to marry. Seeing his sadistic smile, she nodded at Abe.

"How do we move them? Where do we take them?" she asked, her eyes moving furtively between the stage and the door.

Abe sighed.

"Man, I could use a shadow right now," he muttered before hefting Lucy over one shoulder and Ching over the other.

"Guide me, I can't see," he said, holding his arms out to Jia and Asha. Taking his arms, they moved through the velvet folds ever so slowly as to not give away their presence.

Abe's body was screaming under the weight of his charges. His shoulders hunched and unhunched trying to find a semi comfortable way to carry two unconscious young women. A dull red glow assaulted their eyes as they stepped into the hall.

"Hall is empty," Asha said.

"We have to head down," Jia said, not hiding at all her curious stare at the stunning woman before her. Her hair hung in long, intricate onyx braids, the red lights giving it a nearly living look. It was no wonder Josiah had fallen for this woman. But what was their relationship now, she wondered. Were many of his long hiatus really trips to be with this other family? Given this woman's position, it would make it very hard for her to see him, much less be with him. Looking at Ching's pale face slung over Abe's shoulders, she sighed softly. All the feelings were going to have to wait. It was time for action.

"Why? Who are you? What are you doing? Abe?" Asha asked, her eyes flicking between her daughter's drawn expression and this woman who was staring at her.

"I'd love to do introductions and explanations, but I can only hold them so long. If nothing else, we need to get into a stairwell so that we can try to wake them," Abe said, the strain his body was under clear in his voice.

The women nodded.

"Tell me where you want to go. I know this place rather well," Asha said, placing her trust yet again in Captain Abraham Jones.

"We need to go all the way down, to where the steam pipes for the organs are," he said.

"I can't even imagine why you want to go down there, but it's sure to be empty, so let's go," Asha said, leading them across the hall. Her eyes were darting around every bend, looking for those who would alert Gregor.

"Here," she hissed, opening an almost invisible utility door. The group found themselves standing on a carved stone landing, stairs leading up and down from their position.

Abe sighed in relief as his back screamed in protest. Laying them gently against the warm stone, he looked at the two young women he had spent the better part of the last 19 years caring for.

"Now we try to wake them and hope that Mardrich and Violet are doing so well," Abe said, rummaging through Ching's pockets for her med supplies.

"Mardrich is involved in this too?" Asha asked.

"He helped us get in here. I know this is all crazy and sudden, but Gregor's up to something. Josiah is hiding somewhere in here, and he needs the girls. No, I don't know why, yes there is another sister and uh . . . Asha, this is Jia, um Josiah's wife." Abe pretended to be very interested in the vial he had was holding, not wanting in anyway to be a part of this if it went sour.

"Well at least he married one of us!" Asha said, with a slight laugh breaking the tension.

Below their feet, tensions were mounting as Violet and Mardrich made their way into the winding tunnels of Sadovka's high security prison.

"It figures they put her on the west side. It's the closest to the Maw, gets the hottest, and is generally the most miserable place to be. She must have put up one hell of a fight," he chuckled.

"The fact that someone tried to undress her alone is enough for her to lose her mind. Sybil's not into being touched, you know, by people. Any people really. I think Orion is the only creature that gets physically close to her," Violet explained as they made their way through the halls.

Most of the cells were empty, dark glass windows exposing roughhewn stone benches simply awaiting the next poor soul.

"Not super crowded, huh?" Violet asked, wondering if Sadovka even had prisoners other than Sybil.

"Gregor dislikes surprises and breaks in his plans, so he had a lot of nulls and voids locked up in here. And well . . .," he struggled to explain the rest as he felt complicit in Gregor's rise to dictatorship and therefore partially responsible for the heinous acts he employed.

"He had them all executed. Men, women, children. He didn't want anyone staging a rescue during the party and messing up his plans," he said, these words dropping to the stones like bombs.

Violet cried out softly.

"Yeah, good old Gregor," Mardrich said, coming around the last bend to lead them into the west wing.

"Okay, let's just grab your captain and scramble, I'm out of lies on why I'm here," he said, punching the code quickly into the door.

A series of whistles, clicks, and pressure changes indicated the steam mechanism inside was granting them access.

Deep within the halls ahead of them, two women were talking about everything. Solitude was something Sybil was very content with normally. But she had never been so happy to have someone to talk to as when Mary made her presence known.

"Shh dove, I heard the door, it could be good, it could be bad, but whatever it is, be ready," Mary said, shifting her position inside the cell to make it harder for someone to come in. Sybil laced up her boots and straightened her jacket. If she was to be taken to him, she would not give him the satisfaction of being stripped of her things and sprayed with slime.

"Sibyl?" A voice called down the corridor and her heart soared.

"Violet! I'm here down here," she said, trying to keep the joy she felt from raising her volume.

Pounding footsteps came her way.

"Don't worry Mary, my friends are here, and we're leaving," she said, her grin nearly splitting her face.

"And to think, I thought punching the guard was going to get me was beaten. We must stop and get the others, so many from my settlement were taken," she said, excitement creeping into her voice.

"As the footsteps neared, Sybil noted another set and hoped to also see Abe, to know that things were moving.

"I'm right out here honey, I've got the code and Mardrich is going to help us. He's not a pipe banger." Violet said, standing outside Sybil's door with a wink to Mardrich.

"As in the package dude? Cool, but you must get Mary too, she's across the way. She's a Null, she has to come too," Sybil said as she waited for the door to open.

"Okay boss," Violet replied as she nodded to the door across the hall.

Mardrich, seizing the chance to make a difference in the life of a people he had largely ignored, flipped through the codes book as Violet worked the code on Sybil's door.

"They certainly don't make this easy," Violet mumbled as she placed in the long series of codes and symbols.

"This is the worst wing in the highest security prison in Sadovka. Using 1234 was not really an option for Gregor," Mardrich said, his fingers more accustomed to the input methods moving quickly over the keys.

"You bring me to the nicest places, Cap," Violet chuckled, pleased to hear the tumblers inside the door moving with every code.

Mary chuckled softly.

"I can see why you had such faith in your friends" she said, stepping into the corridor. Mardrich regarded the woman. She was older, perhaps even close to his age. Her skin tanned and tough from life in the Sadovkian countryside. Nulls here had it the worst. Sadovka was rough even in the civilized parts. The outsiders were truly hated by the Regime, although without them, the Menglan would never have been able to fill Heaven.

Her long hair was golden with traces of white at her temples. Like most women here, her hair was bound into intricate braids. It helped keep the soot from clinging to the strands.

At that moment, Sybil's door opened with an audible whoosh and the Captain stepped out. Violet could see where they had ripped her shirt. The sleeve of her duster also bore several holes. They had tried to strip her and show her who had the power. But things like that never sat well with Sybil, and Violet was pleased to see that they had gotten no further into the process.

Sybil and Mary regarded each other. Though they had spent some time talking, they had not seen each other.

Mary laughed.

"I'm pleased to say Captain, you are as dashing as I imagined," she said with a head bow.

Sybil's face flushed with a sunset shade of crimson.

"I'm just me. Now, a couple of questions. Did we make our delivery? Is Abe here? Do we have the other two? What is the plan? Is my ship okay?" she rattled off as the quartet made their way back through the winding bowels of Gregor's hell.

Taking a deep breath, Violet began answering, ticking each item off on her fingers as she went.

"Yes, the package was delivered, Abe is here, he, Jia, and Ching went to get Lucy and her mom. The plan is to go down into the tunnels, to find the big pipe organ. That's where we believe Josiah to be. The ship is right where we left it . . . I hope. Orion is there, so I sent him back before we came in. I was afraid he would be hurt. Let's hope he's got it under control," Violet explained

"Orion?" Mardrich asked.

"He's an irradiated stoat I found in a Templar storage facility we were raiding for meds. He gets me," she said.

"Oh, this should be interesting, I know Lucy won't leave without Kyros, he's an irradiated owl. This party just keeps getting bigger," Mardrich said with a sigh.

Long, drawn out cords from the organ stopped everyone in their tracks.

"We are running out of time. Gregor and Markov are planning something. Something bad. We need to get out of here and quick. I hope you have a big ship, Captain."

Sybil nodded.

"My girl will get us out of here."

Setting off at a run they moved towards the way they had come in. Violet rounded a corner and collided solidly with two very drunk guards.

"Well, now we have to fight," Mardrich said.

Not waiting for anyone else to respond, he pushed forward, cold cocking both inebriated guards on the chin.

"Nice shot," Mary said with an appreciative glance at Mardrich's solid build.

"I was a boxer back in the day," he replied with a wink.

The trio turned to see Sybil dragging a guard into the decontamination chamber, a vengeful smile gracing her lips.

Dragging the other, they paused only long enough to start the sequence which would shower the unconscious men with goop, lotion, and all manner of things.

"I put them on the delousing cycle, though I'm not sure the machine is strong enough to cure them," she said before checking the corridors.

Seeing them empty, they hurried towards the stairs.

"Now we must get the others. They can go out through the steam vents," Mary said, looking around frantically for traces of her people.

"The others?" Mardrich asked surreptitiously.

"Yes, I was brought in with so many others. They did rounds to clear out the forest around the Maw, so that the visitors would not see us," Mary replied.

Violet sucked in a quick breath. Mardrich's grizzled face taking on a dark demeanor.

"I have no way to say this to you that is not going to be horrible, so here it is," Mardrich said, laying his hands gently on the woman's shoulders.

"Gregor had all of the Nulls, Voids, and homeless that the Menglan didn't want, executed. He's trying very hard to show off a unified realm," he said, looking anywhere but her eyes. Being a part of Gregor's staff had never been something he was proud of. But it had afforded him a decent life and gave him the chance to watch over Lucy. However, seeing firsthand the pain and grief fill this woman's eyes, he knew this was no longer his home.

A deep silence prevailed, no one sure how to move on. A blast from the large organ shook the walls and startled everyone back into action.

"Not that way." He said gesturing to the stairs they had come down. "Unlike the others, you are already as close to the bottom as you can get here. We just must go sideways now. I have not been to the pipe room in years; however, it's not hard to find if you know what you are looking for," Mardrich said, popping open an almost hidden maintenance door.

"Gregor has certainly gone out of his way to make this place uniform," Violet noted as they slipped into yet another red rimmed hall that felt like so many others they had crossed already.

They moved slowly, stopping to look at the huge brass pipes that ran overhead. Red light glinted off them, strange against the other dark sooty pipes. Veins from true heart of Sadovka, to feed Gregor's need.

"I rather hope the others are progressing as well as we are. Time is not on our side," Mardrich said, keeping his eyes peeled for the others.

"Here, try this one," Abe said, handing Jia a bottle of smelling salts.

Removing the lid, her nose wrinkled as the strong ammonia assaulted her. Kneeling beside her prone child, she cradled her head waving the salts under her nose.

Her eyes fluttered.

"Are those mine, and who was in my pockets?" she asked before her eyes were even open. Her voice was tired and weak. Abe was worried there was no way to pull off this escape if the girls just kept randomly collapsing.

Jia chuckled, passing the salts to Asha. The women had reached an uneasy peace. Leaving the issues, they needed to resolve for a more auspicious time, she waved them under Lucy's nose. Unlike her sister's suspicious response, Lucy came up swinging. Asha ducked just in time to see Abe doubled over. Lucy's punch has reached a target.

"Oof," Abe grunted.

Lucy's eyes, now fully open, glanced at the scene.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly.

"Girl, if that's the worst thing that happens to me on this trip, I am doing exceptionally well," he said, with a chuckle to hide his grimace.

"I am, however, getting too old for this shit," he said, absently running his fingers over his gut.

"I've seen you before, in the palace, many times over many years." Lucy said weakly.

"Yes, I've been coming here since you were born, my name is Abraham Jones, and I'm uh, a friend of the family." He said glancing at the people who were more like his family.

"Lucy, Ching, and Jia Carter," Abe said, watching the women standing, hoping the fainting spells were at an end.

"Um, hello?" she said, looking to her mother.

"So, I have no time to tell you all the things that are going on here, but here is the very short, extremely abbreviated and probably not helpful version," Abe said quickly, keeping his back against the door, while the girls regained their balance.

"Your father is not Gregor. He is a Templar soldier named Josiah Carter. He has two other daughters who were born on the same day as you. Ching is one of those daughters, as is Sybil, an air pirate," he explained.

"Wait, I've heard of her . . . Captain Hook? The one who escaped the Menglan, right?" she asked. Abe noted the full body revulsion running down Asha's spine at the mention of Gregor's twin.

"One and the same. She was captured in the square while we were coming here to find you, because Josiah is here somewhere. Gregor and Markov are up to something dangerous that I believe is about to be unleashed on the party goers," Abe finished.

"So, now we have you. Hopefully, Mardrich has Sybil and they are headed to the organ. I have no idea what we are going to find down there. However, I'm going to go out on a limb here and suggest that none of us will be able to stay here. If you choose to go with us, we will have to flee Sadovka and I don't know if we will ever be back," Abe said, watching her closely. Out of all Josiah's daughters, Lucy had his passion. All of them were clearly gifted, but Lucy had that drive, that spark of madness that turned a simple patrol run into an undersea treasure hunt.

It was also the trait that got Josiah into the most trouble and the fuel behind Lucy's famous rages. So, blessing or curse, she was the only one he was unsure about.

"Mother, you are coming?" Lucy asked.

"If you go, I go, there is nothing for me here otherwise," Asha said, knowing her padded decorated existence was balancing on her daughter's decision.

"Lila and Kyros, how can we get them?" she asked, the decision set behind her eyes.

"Mardrich had said he will get Lila and I'm fairly certain that Kyros should be in the stables for feeding, so we can grab him on the way out," Asha answered.

Lucy nodded. Extending her hand to Ching, she put on her diplomatic demeanor.

"Well, this is a hell of a way to meet, but hello Ching. Let's get this party started, shall we?"

Ching grinned. The air around them instantly lightened and Ching shook her hand.

The group headed down, row after row of dimly lit stone stairs. Each flight they descended brought heavier air. Soot began to cling to their faces, reminding Abe of coal miners from the Before Times.

"How far down does this go?" Asha wondered aloud

"To the best of my knowledge, this tunnel leads to the very gates of the Maw. Essentially, we are walking the road of man's rebirth," Abe said, the solemnity of his voice filling the others with awe.

Abe, Asha, and Jia remembered. They knew a time of blue skies, and senseless technology. Cars in space, and handheld computers. The time before, where greed and hatred ruled. Things hadn't changed all that much. Just now they were forced to start over. To find new things to fight over. It's always a hope that major disasters would force a reevaluation.

That perhaps maybe, just maybe, humans could work together to build something new out of the rubble. Asha sighed inwardly. It was all cycles. Greed and push back, mortal demands on the Earth's internal structure. If mankind was given the chance to take and destroy, they would.

"Looks like we have reached the ground floor. We should not encounter any guards down here. If Gregor is smart, he will have the exhaust vents heavily guarded to stop any rebel attempts." Abe explained, glancing up to watch the pipe as they walked.

"Find me," Lucy and Ching's voices cried out in unison.

"Oh, please don't faint again," Abe said under his breath, turning to face the girls.

"I don't quite know how I know this, but this Josiah person is near, and the Captain, I can feel her, her pulse . . . her breath . . . she is close," Lucy said, opening her eyes.

Ching nodded.

"I can feel her, too. But not dad. He's here . . . I can feel his spark, but it's not as strong to me as hers is," Ching said, cringing as she realized Josiah was not father to Lucy or Sybil. Only she had been chosen for that.

"Do you think you can use that feeling to guide us to her?" Asha asked her daughter. She'd seen Lucy do extraordinary things over the years, so this little display of ESP did not rattle her much.

"I think so. I can't say this is something I've ever tried, although this connection does explain some of the things that have happened to me over the years. So, I will try," she said, and with a shrug, she closed her eyes.

Stepping forward, Ching placed her hand inside that of her sister's, the dim tunnel was illuminated brilliantly as blue electrical arcs raced between their fingers. Eyes closed, they began walking, steps aligned perfectly. Breathing as one, they walked fearlessly, blindly through the darkest intestines of the Maw beast.

"Ow!" Sybil cried out, causing everyone to jump.

"Cap?" Violet asked, examining her friend for what could have caused her injury.

"I dunno . . . it felt like someone zapped me with a live current," she said, running her hand down her arm absently.

"That would be impressive. We don't even have any electricity stabilizers anymore. They got rid of all of the electrical trappings when the world moved back to steam," Mardrich said, eyeing the woman as they kept moving. It was hard to see a resemblance between her and his Lucy, if it were not for the eyes, he would refuse to even believe that she was a part of this strange bloodline. But when those storm steel eyes locked with yours, there was no mistaking it.

"Guys . . . I uh, feel something. Someone is coming close. I can feel their power. I think it could be the others. Or it could be a squadron of Gregor's goons, or hell, at this point it could be nothing. This place makes me all out of sorts," Lucy said, an unusual amount of fear evident in her voice. They walked further down, finally hitting the bottom floor.

"I'm hoping it's them, we have less than ten minutes until Gregor's speech is due to start. Whatever he's planning, he intends for it to happen whilst he is on stage. I saw the gas masks for him and Markov under the podium," Abe said, glancing above his head to find the pipes they were to follow. As promised, they were quite easy to identify; however, they ran both ways in this corridor and there was no clear sign as to which way the organ room was located.

"It's so hard to get my bearings in this place," Ching muttered as they all examined the pipe looking for some sort of indication as to which way they ran.

"I can't honestly say I've ever been down here; these tunnels are rather disorienting," Lucy said, chewing her lip thoughtfully.

"Can you try to feel for Sybil? Perhaps they are headed the right way and we could pick up on them?" Abe asked, his ears straining for the continued sounds of the organ. For as long as the organist was still performing, they had time.

Ching opened her eyes.

"Dad is that way," she said, turning abruptly to the right, following something no one else could see.

Abe looked at Lucy to see if perhaps she felt the same, but she simply shrugged and followed her. The rest fell in line, their options were few and time was short.

"I feel the arc again. They are close, probably in an adjoining tunnel and there is something else. It's light, a sooty light, it's ahead of us, shining ever so slightly . . . I think it's him," Lucy said.

Asha looked to Abe, her eyebrow arching. He shrugged, he had always known the girls were special, and that Josiah had a way about him, but all of this was new to him as well.

"I hear footsteps," Mary said, pointing ahead to a T junction in the tunnel.

"It's Abe and the others," Sybil said, absently running her tingling fingers against her rough jacket sleeve. It wasn't an unfamiliar feeling, but it had never been so strong.

Violet let out a sigh of relief. At least then, they would be back with Abe. He always made her feel safe. Although the rock in her stomach at the thought of these sisters still lay heavy.

Mardrich moved into the lead. He didn't doubt the Captain, but it never hurt to be cautious. Reaching the junction, they paused, Mardrich taking a moment to run his fingers over the braille panel telling him where he was and what pipes were contained here. Given the low, red-stained lights, such panels had been installed all over the inner bowls of the fortress to make it easier for the drones to attend to the machines of their masters.

"We are not far," he said, listening to the shuffling footsteps, trying to determine if they were ahead of them or behind.

Hushed voices to his left told him they would all soon see what happened when the three women were confronted with each other.

"Here they come," he said to the others as they filed into the passageway, waiting.

Violet slipped her hand into Sybil's, comforting them both.

The light, reminiscent of what had been seen on Mars in the time before, draped over the unlikely group as they stood tensely in the hallway. Chords of an over-aggrandized organ piece rang above them.

Breaths were held as the shuffling came closer, one more wide bend and they would all be face to face.

Closer the steps drew until the other group came into view, led by whom Violet and Mardrich knew to be Ching, and Lucy though Violet made a guess on that one.

The two groups stood for a moment, just regarding each other. Eyes taking in as much detail as the lighting afforded. Abe opened his mouth, ready to do the introductions, was pleased to see that none of them had passed out.

But he was silenced, Arcs of blue power connected the women, flowing freely from their fingertips, surrounding the three of them in a purple haze as their pure electricity clashed with the Maw's signature glow.

"That's Electricity," Mardrich said in awe.

It has been years since he had seen any kind of live current. When the bombs rained down, the radiation had removed all-natural power charges. No lightning could be caught, no conductive alloys, even copper was useless. Without the metal or conductors, dams and wind turbines were useless. It just could not be stored. It was the reason for the Maw, for its power and influence. It was the only form of pure raw power man could harness. Electricity had taken man from the sooty, dangerous gas age and made them a technological race, leading the way for cars, planes, computers, and the weapons that eventually brought the world to its knees.

Silence was heavy as the scene played out. The closer the girls came, the more powerful the current. Abe could hear the static crackle as the hairs on his arms rose. Reaching out their hands, they stacked them allowing the current to surge around them before dwindling down and vanishing.

"Well that's a whole lot better than them passing out," Asha mumbled, feeling a deep unease about being involved in this, but knowing they were too far now to turn away.

A wheeze of the organ followed by silence urged them on.

"We have to go; we have to get Dad and we have to get out of here," Ching said, an urgency to her tone echoed by the faces around her.

"I'm all for the getting out of here part," Jia said, unsure of how happy she was to see her husband. A man whom she felt now that she never really knew.

The girls forged ahead, leaving the others to follow. They no longer needed direction, they moved fluidly along the corridor, eyes set ahead.

Another turn brought them before massive copper doors that stood easily ten feet high. Mardrich knew the room inside was just as massive as the doors suggested, it had taken months to dig out this cavern, the blueprints had taken up whole rooms. It was one of Gregor's most elaborate constructions, an "effigy to ego" it was called by his brother.

Before anyone could pull the daunting doors open, one burst open and Josiah Carter landed in an unceremonious heap at his daughters' feet.

He was dressed in the uniform of a Sadovkan royal guard, although it was obviously not his, as the sleeves were at least two inches too short. Pulling himself up he regarded them. In his hands was clutched an intricate copper and glass cylinder, no more than 10 inches in length. The casing held a tube of the bluest liquid Sybil had ever seen. It reminded her of the sky on a clear day above Pendergrass, or perhaps more like what she imagined the ocean to be in Before Times. Both ends held valves and it looked like something you would slip into a pipe or injector for delivery.

"Well good, you are here," he said, looking at his daughters. It had been a very long time since he had been closer than the crowd at parades to Lucy. He'd never even met Sybil; although he'd followed her exploits through stories and occasional Templar wanted posters. Glancing behind them, he was rather surprised to see the entourage.

Nodding to both Asha and Jia without prolonged eye contact, he gave a thankful nod to Abe while trying to figure out the other three.

"I'm glad you are all here, and you unlocked that door. That place is unbearably hot," he said, pulling out a bandanna to wipe the sweat from his brow to accentuate his claim.

"We didn't unlock the door," Ching said, regarding the man she'd known and loved all her life. Sure, he's been an absent father, sometimes, but she'd always loved hearing about his treasure hunts and adventures. Yet, now she had to view him in another light, as a flawed human, a father to other daughters, and she was not sure she liked this examination of him.

"You did, but we will get to that. Right now, we must get out of here. Gregor is expecting this stuff to spew out of the organ coating the hapless below. When it doesn't, this place is going to become a whole lot more popular," he said, moving back the way they came.

Abe shook his head. He didn't know what he expected, but what he should have known was that Josiah Carter, was Josiah Carter, completely full of insanely unbridled enthusiasm that had nearly gotten them killed several times.

Here was a man with a lot to answer for to a lot of people, taking the whole thing in stride as if it was all an expected day.

Everyone followed behind him. Silence reigned as they tried to make sense of what he had just told them. Ching caught up to her father's fast pace, walking beside him.

"What's in the cannister?" she asked, hoping she would have a chance to study the formula.

"No idea," he replied as they kept walking. He took turn after turn as if he'd been raised in these tunnels. Even Mardrich had to pause at one point to find a braille map to make sure they were headed out.

"So how do you know it's a bad thing?" Violet asked, unsure she liked this man with his flippant attitude to everything they had gone through to rescue him.

He paused and shot her a look before continuing through the maze of tunnels.

"Because I know Gregor is a not a good man, and I also know that when one does something good for people, they generally do not do so in a manner such as an unexpected chemical bath. Also, to note, he took methods to protect himself and Markov from the spray as well as placing all important cabinet members and Maw officiants outside the impact zone."

"But not Lucy and me. He intended to use whatever that is, on us," Asha said.

"I'm sorry," Josiah said, his lively tone somber.

"How do you know all that?" Ching asked.

"You would be amazed at what you can hear through the pipes when you are sneaking around," he said with a wink.

Abe felt Jia tense beside him as they spoke to each other. He could not imagine the things that must be surging through her mind.

"When we reach the end of this tunnel, the only way to go is up. If I'm lucky, which I tend to be, this is an access hatch that should come out in the root cellar beside the stable," he said with a wink to Abe, who knew all too well about his brand of lucky.

"Yes, that's true and that's probably our best shot of getting out of here. I know the land well. Can any of you ride?" Mardrich asked, feeling much more comfortable on home turf.

"Ride what?" Violet asked.

'Horses, obviously. It's a stable" Lucy said, her tone irritable.

Violet retracted physically, drawing herself up behind Sybil.

"Not cool," Sybil said, giving Lucy an intense stare that the later was the one to break

"Okay everyone, let's get going, I'd expect the cat is already out of the bag, so the more distance we put between us and them, the better our chances are," Josiah said with a pointed look at both Sybil and Lucy.

The tunnel dead-ended at a ladder which led up into an impenetrable darkness, and hopefully the path to salvation.

Josiah went up first, each of them listening as his footsteps took him further into the darkness. Breaths were collectively released when a muffled curse was followed by a shaft of real light shining down upon them. Blinking, they all began to climb. The air in Sadovka, which was sooty and hazy before was stunning after the dark red innards of the fortress.

Mardrich had never been so happy to see the stables as he was at that moment. They would have to ride double on a few of them, but he had enough horses to get them to the ship and hopefully out of Sadovka for good. He felt the same as Asha; he had stayed for Lucy. Not that he had anywhere else to go and his life was far from what it could have been. But if she was going, so was he.

He knew now that Gregor meant her harm, a harm he had not intended for me, he thought, recalling Gregor's insistence he stayed in the stable to keep anyone from hurting his horses. He had chosen to spare him, but not his own wife and child. He had no loyalty to hold him here now.

"Okay, make for the stables. We will get everyone on horses, grab Kyros and Lilia, and make for the Captain's ship," Mardrich said, taking over. This may have been Josiah Carters' roller coaster, but this was his portion of the track.

Everyone nodded. The grounds were empty though the sounds of loud partying could be heard. Gregor had to host the celebration as it had been announced without letting the people, he had trapped, know what was held in store for them. He must have been furious.

Rounding the door to the stables, Mardrich paused. The doors were closed when he left, now one stood ever so slightly open, just enough for one person to squeeze through.

"Must have been Lilia," he thought as he glanced over his shoulder. He was sure that at any moment the alarm would be raised and their ridiculously large and rather easy to spot rescue party would be captured. But so far, they had been lucky. Perhaps this Josiah did have a knack after all.

Sliding back the door, it was immediately obvious that their luck had run out.

Standing in an ever-growing pool of fresh blood, stood Nakari. His robes had been spattered with the blood of his sister, who lay at his feet with her delicate throat slashed.

A deep mournful moan tore from Lucy's throat as she raced to Lilla, pulling her lifeless body into her arms. Tears streamed down her cheeks, splashing on the fading warmth of her paramour's face.

Abe rushed the man, who pulled out a steam bolt gun and aimed it at Lucy, her face buried in Lila's blood streaked locks.

"Don't try it old man," he said with a smile.

"I admit, when I intercepted the note to meet in the stables, I had expected quite a few less people to be present," Nakari said, his eyes raking over the group.

His gaze coming to rest on the canister Josiah held protectively against his chest. His nostrils flared, rage bubbling color into his face.

"What are you doing with that?" he spat.

"Not sure to be honest. It just seemed so lonely, all locked up in a special top-secret case; so, I thought it might like to take a walk," he said, hoping to keep the man's attention while Abe made use of the size of the group and the shadows to attempt to flank him.

"Do you have any idea what you have done?" he asked, rage causing him to visibly shake.

But the answer did not come from Josiah. In all his anger, Nakari had forgotten the weeping woman at his feet.

She stood, her love's blood staining her gown. Her hands shot out, wrapping around his throat.

"Do you have any idea what you have done?" Lucy asked, echoing his words with cold, burning fury.

Chaos erupted, as Asha rushed to her daughter. Abe went for the gun and Lucy continued to squeeze, enjoying watching him struggle as his eyes began to bulge.

"You're killing him," Asha cried as Lucy's expression of pure grief twisted to a sadistic grin.

Nakari pulled frantically at her hands, using all his strength to pry her fingers from his throat. Everyone stood around watching as he fought against her to no avail. Her grip was fueled by hatred, his lips gained a blue tone, and she continued to squeeze harder, her eyes never leaving his.

"She was all that was good in this world. Her life was worth more than mine; yet, you took hers. Your own sister . . . simply out of hatred. Your life is forfeit." Lucy pronounced her sentence, and with a decisive twist of her wrists, his neck snapped. His head rolled at an odd angle before she dumped him unceremoniously to the floor.

"I can't leave her here, not alone in the dark," Lucy said, a profound sadness in her words.

Mardrich wiped away his tears. This was not at all part of the plan, but he understood Lucy's desire.

"I'll carry her on my horse; hopefully, we will have time to bury her properly once we get to the ship," Mardrich said, lifting her body into his arms.

Lucy whistled softly through her tears, the sound barely audible to those who surrounded her, but was more than enough for the other piece of her heart, who came swooping in nuzzling his mistress's cheeks.

After what seemed like an eternity of matching experienced riders with people who were rather afraid of horses or had no experience, they were off. Abe brought up the rear to act as guard, pausing to close the door to the stables. Someone would have a bit of explaining to do when that mess was discovered, and he was glad it was not him.

Mounting his horse, he looked after the others, sickened to see bloody hoof marks on the ground. There was a stream between here and there so that would hide the trail, but that was the remnants of a fierce girl whose only crime was loving an incredible woman.

Mardrich led them out the back-hunting gate. It was deserted, but not so far that they could not hear the roar of the crowd as they were led in song, by what one could only imagine was a very angry Gregor.

The forest here was dense. Soot clung to the trees, painting them in dim grays and blacks instead of living brown and greens.

Mardrich turned them east towards the wall, holding the girl's cold body against him, letting his tears flow as the horses moved quickly on. He was not the only one; tears were shed for the girl some did not even know. Asha wept for her mother, who was a close friend, who had not only lost her beloved daughter, but her son as well.

Asha watched Lucy as they rode, her mind flashing back to the sound her daughter had made upon entry to the stables. It would haunt her forever; the depth of love shattered had been far more than she had realized. She has always supported Lucy's passions, and while her relationship with Lila had put them all in danger, it had never occurred to her to tell her not to. "Be careful, be cautious," that was all she could tell her beloved child. Jia rode past Lucy and Asha felt a thud in her gut.

She had long since stopped believing that Josiah would come back. Even if he did, a declaration of Lucy's parentage would only lead to the execution block for all three. In the back of her mind a well-hidden fantasy was held about him swinging in and whisking them all away to a safe place, away from Gregor and the Menglan. He had no intention of ever coming back. He had sent Abe, and Abe was a comfort; yet, she could not help but study Jia and wonder why, she had been the woman Josiah had chosen, and if she even knew Abe was desperately in love with her.

There was simply too much to process, to think out, and life was affording them no time for that. Madrich stopped at the edge of a clearing; from here, the Captain would have to lead.

"If you would be so kind as to take us to your ship," he said, pulling his horse back to allow her the lead.

Sybil paused and from deep within a secret inside pocket she pulled a thick black box, no bigger than her hand. She flipped the copper latch, gently opening it to reveal a compass. In the lid of the box was a puzzle; several sliding blocks, that when moved into the correct position, would pick up Orion's energy and point her to him.

The needle spun hopelessly for a moment. Sybil's breath caught in her throat; had he been captured? Had he been killed? After a moment, the dizzying arrow pointed northeast, through the dense forest.

"Okay, we are going this way. Given the fading light, I'm going to suggest we do this a bit slower. I understand the urgency, but I also don't want to give off our whereabouts by startling all the wildlife for miles," Sybil said, turning to look at Violet who rode behind her.

"Agreed," she said, a smile creeping to her face; she was still Sybil's first mate.

Without waiting to see if the others agreed, she urged her horse into a fast walk, ducking under a large branch.

Abe heard grumbles from the ranks about being sitting ducks; but given that the Captain's ship was the only way they were getting out of here alive, no one really wanted to argue the point with her.

"It should not be too far now," Violet said to the group, noting one of the tree markings they had left just in case they had to come back in a hurry.

Darkness was falling heavily as they came to the clearing. Sybil jumped off her horse, ready to be aboard her ship. Before her feet touched the ground, a dark shape tackled her.

"Captain!" Violet cried out, jumping off after her, attempting in vain to get between the two struggling figures. As everyone caught up and saw the brawl in progress, weapons were drawn, but no one could get close enough to them as they tussled and fought.

Ching pushed her way to the front. Watching the pair only a split moment before she cried out.

"Constantine!" her voice echoed through the clearing, causing the pair to freeze.

"Ching?" A voice all the Carters and Abraham Jones were familiar with.

Constantine detangled himself from the Captain as Abe brought out glow sticks, illuminating them in a wash of queasy green.

Ching tossed herself into his arms, crushing his lithe body.

"I'm ok! Jeez . . .," he said, hugging her back.

"How long had he been here? Had he seen anyone? Did the General get out okay? Did you touch my ship? " Questions were tossed at him from many directions, the last one coming from Sybil, who was holding a piece of her torn jacket to the sizable cut on her lip.

"The General, he found out what happened to the Nulls here, so they decided to take the ones in hiding and go home. Even the wanted ones would rather hide then be executed on sight. I was helping carry a couple of the kids on the way here. They headed towards the far back corner of the wall . . ., supposed to be a tunnel there. So here I am as promised, and no . . . I didn't touch your ship," he said, feeling his nose to see if she had actually broken it or just given him another ridge.

Kyros flapped his wings, leaping from Lucy's shoulder to chase something unseen to everyone else.

"We have to bury Lilia," Lucy said, looking anywhere but at the saddle blanketed form laying beneath the tree.

Constantine and I will dig," Abe said, pulling tools from the supplies the shadow had borrowed.

He nodded, his eyes showing a curiosity he knew could wait for later.

"If you all could find some flowers, I would greatly appreciate it," Lucy said, following in the direction Abe had gone, to pick a spot for Lilia's resting place.

The others fanned out, knowing they should not be spending the time, but unable to just leave the girl under a blanket.

Despite their exhaustion and the lingering pain in Abe's back from carrying both girls, they got a hole dug quickly. Although it was not as deep as anyone would have preferred, there was simply not enough time.

Lucy stood over the uneven dirt mound, unable to believe that it held the woman that she had shared her soul with. The rest laid their flowers on top, Asha offering a prayer in the Latin of the Maw.

Heads were bowed, and after a few moments, Kyros return to his Mistress's shoulder was taken as a sign to give her a minute alone.

They walked back, feet unheard on the thick grass, the forest floor covered in a thick moss. Jia looked at it, her chemist's curiosity kicking in. She had always loved working with plant proteins and her minor had been Botany, a love she had passed on to Ching, who had used many of the surviving plants in her formulas.

After a few long, uncomfortable moments, Lucy joined them. Tears streaked her face, her hands holding Lilia's veil. Kyros settled on her shoulder before darting off into the bush in search of some other kind of game.

Mardrich clucked at the bird. He didn't want him eating anything that had not been treated or cooked.

"Now is not the time for food, we have to go," Mardrich said, setting the horses free.

Most would return to the stables, or so he hoped.

"Wait, before we go anywhere with that bird, I need an assurance it's not going to eat Orion, or it stays," Sybil said, moving towards her ship, anxious to be in the air.

"Orion?" Lucy asked, snapping her fingers to return him to the perch on her arm.

"He's a ferret." Abe said making his way to the descending gangplank.

"He is a stoat, a special one, and a member of the crew," Violet said. While it was hard to deny the beauty of Kyros, Orion was family.

"I'm sure everything will be fine; I can tether him if need be," Lucy said, finding a respect for this sister who also held the love of a special animal.

Sybil nodded as she walked up the plank, stopping at the top to look over the group.

"I welcome you to the Valkyrie, I am Captain Hook and I will be your guide on this escape. So, if you would please come aboard. My first mate will show you to my cabin. It may be a touch cramped, but I'd prefer you all be inside on takeoff, just in case we are getting shot at," Sybil said with a flourished bow. This may be the weirdest adventure of her life, but she was still a pirate.

Abe chuckled as they all settled inside the cabin. She had been right; it was a little packed. Abe found himself uncomfortably close to Madrich, who didn't look at all displeased to be rather smooshed against Mary.

Sybil slid into the engine compartment, retrieving the hidden piece from her smuggler's hold. She moved quickly; her hands programmed to be able to do this blind. Within minutes the engine surged to life. Heading above deck, she moved quickly. Nodding to Violet, she ascended to the top deck.

Sybil faced the control panel. She had placed it beside and old-fashioned ship's wheel she had salvaged. She stood behind it now, feeling the ship come online as the lights winked on one at a time, confirming she was ready to fly.

The night was lacerated by the wail of a piecing siren. Their time had run out.

"I'm going up high and hot! You might want to warn them," Sybil said, throwing all the levers up. She had the moonshine boost engine ready. Getting them up and out of the range of Sadovkan guns was the goal, and a slow rise simply would not do.

"Our tenuous welcome, I believe, has been rescinded," Violet said to the group in the cabin.

"She's going to take off fast. Straight up, so um . . . hold on to something," she added, shutting the door before anyone could comment.

Violet wound her arms through the rigging. They had done this kind of take off several times, and after going airborne the first two times, she had learned.

The alarm continued its shrill voice, instilling panic in the creatures around them. Orion burrowed furiously into Sybil's pocket, trying to escape the sound.

"I wonder how Gregor is explaining this to his party guests," Sybil said to Violet, who was trying to cover her ears and hold on at the same time.

"I wonder which of our actions caused the alarm to be raised. I mean, they have a few options," she replied with a grin.

Pulling all the levers up to almost full, the Valkyrie shot into the air, breaking many branches along the way. The dark sky gave them an advantage even though the clouds were thinner than she would have liked. It was unlikely they would be looking up, unless of course it was her escape that had caused the alarms, then things could get a little more difficult.

Pulling them up to a comfortable cruising height, she engaged the engines and headed back toward Pendergrass. The course could be altered if need be, but at this moment, all she wanted to do was go home.

The siren's squeal was suddenly halted. The absence of the sound leaving room for the ringing that now filled her ears. Sybil set the controls, motioning to Violet.

"Come watch her, I'm going to check on our guests," she said, shoving her hands in her deep pockets. So far, this had not yielded much in the way of answers, and while she felt a definite connection with the man, her feelings about him bordered more on distrust than a bond.

Opening the door, she had to suppress a rather loud laugh. As predicted, the takeoff had left everyone in a random jumble on the floor.

"Well we are up; we are headed towards Pendergrass and I think it is safe to come out on deck, which might afford everyone a bit more room. I am sorry about that, but better safe than sorry," Sybil said, feeling the words rushing out of her mouth. She was nervous and that was not something she enjoyed.

Turning her back on them as they all struggled to become upright, she headed out to the deck, settling on the steps.

After a few minutes they filed out; Abe, Jia, Constantine, Ching, and Lucy. Then after another moment, Mardrich and Mary, who was sporting a decent size scrape on her forearm.

Ching noting the scrape, began to dig through her pockets, and quickly located all the things she needed. Silently, she bandaged her wound, all of them glancing towards the door as they waited for Josiah. He was what all this was about. His rescue had cost lives and he had all the answers.

After a long moment he exited, no longer carrying the container. He regarded everyone who was staring at him with a lopsided smile, though he didn't meet too many eyes.

"I must say, Captain, this is quite an amazing ship. I can't say I've been on a flying vessel in the Now Times and I must say, this is exhilarating," he said, his eyes searching Sybil's face.

"Thank you," was all she said.

Seeing that everyone was staring at him, he sighed.

"I knew this day would come, or I suspected it might. Really, nothing is certain anymore, but I'm glad it did. Now, I know you all have questions. Some of them I can answer, others . . . well, I'm still puzzling out myself. But I will tell you what I do know. So please, everyone, find a seat. Captain, the course for Pendergrass will do for now. The farm is still safe, I assume?" he said, turning to Sybil.

"Yup, just like you left it," she said, letting her meaning hang in the air.

He nodded, noting Abe's wince.

"My tale begins in a different world. A world far different from this one, yet, so much the same. During the five years before the blasts, Templar had begun genetic experiments. They screened thousands of people, without their knowledge, for specific genetic markers that were open to mutation. Most people carry one, and in rare cases, they even carry two such markers. I carry four such markers, as I would imagine all three of you do as well" he said, glancing at his daughters.

"As such, I was recruited into the RD project. Now, what you're going to wonder is, why would I do such a thing? Why would I subject myself to be mutated? I can't expect any of you to understand; however, those who know what the world was might. I was broke, and my mother was sick. Templar promised me that if I let them test my blood, they would care for her and give her the chemo treatments we couldn't afford. It seemed simple to me; I let them check my none too special to me blood, and occasionally inject me with medicines. They didn't sell it as mutation at first; not until it started to work. So, agreeing to it was simple," he paused, his fingers finding the small round medal around his neck.

"Anyway, so things start to change. My mother is in remission, I feel incredible, and things just seemed to start working out for me. So, when Markov brought me in and explained the mutations and the breeding program, well . . . it seemed okay. I mean, after all nothing bad had happened at that point," he shrugged.

"Women were also being tested, all over the world, looking for the mutation markers. In order to be an RD male, you only needed one mutable marker. With women, they needed two. Once they found women with the markers, they placed them into a database. The goal was, after the male trials were done and they had what they considered to be superior specimens, they would be mated with the RD females to bring forth an evolution of mankind. A race of brilliant, talented individuals with what some term as ESP," he said, beginning to pace.

"But then, the blasts came. Templar was determined to continue despite many of its subjects being vaporized or dying of radiation. Markov truly believed that if they could make more resilient people, they would be better equipped to deal with this new world and the lingering effects of the radiation. So, he took the three of us who were left and started combing the registries for the females. There were only nine left," he said.

"I do truly hope there are no more children out there," Jia interrupted, her comment bringing a snort of agreement from Abe. This was the first time he was hearing any of this as well.

"No, I was assigned the two of you and April," he said quietly.

"None of the meetings were by chance. We were assignments," Asha said, looking upon him, knowing love had never been something she had felt for him.

"How can this be? My mother never mentioned being part of a test," Sybil said, realizing there was a lot her mother never told her.

Josiah cringed before answering.

"None of the women were told. They were screened, chosen, and mutated with no knowledge. The mutagens were given as medicines, or during medical procedures. For some reason, Markov thought women would not understand his grand plans, so they were not told," he said, watching the rage rise in the woman who currently had him surrounded.

He raised a hand in defense, but a blast that shook the ship saved him from further reply.

Sybil was up first, her body quick as she scrambled up the rigging. They had almost made it out of Sadovka, but there was no question that they knew she had escaped as they had pulled out the anti-airship guns.

Another blast, this one sending a wooden bolt through one of her sails.

"Inside the cabin. Now!" Sybil shouted, jumping the stairs to the control panel as Violet and Abe pushed the others inside.

Rope slid across the deck as wave after wave of wooden bolts were sent into the air, some striking the metal hull with an audible ding. More than a few found their way to tear coconut-sized holes in her sails.

"The whole wall is covered; we will never get over!" Sybil shouted

A voice she was not expecting answered her.

"Take her to the rim," Josiah said as he expertly shimmied his way up the ladder as the ship rocked side to side. The blasts were coming heavier now.

"Are you crazy? All the way back through Sadovka to the edge? They will shoot us down before we get back where we started!" she said, engaging every lever she could think of to give them speed and height.

"Go through Velletri," he said, his calm gray eyes annoying her.

"There is no access to the rim through Velletri," she replied, pleased that they had risen to the point that most of the bolts were falling just short of her brass belly.

"It's only a matter of time before they start putting molten bolts in those cannons. You can't hide up here forever and trust me when I say there is a rim in Velletri," he said, his smile smug.

Sybil scoffed, her expression taking on a hard edge.

"Trust you? Really? That's the best you've got?" she said, noting the eerie silence below. They were reloading. He was right, they would try molten bolts; and while Valkyrie was solid, those could punch through her sides with the right amount of force.

Josiah spread his hands shrugging, his expression neutral.

"Look, it your ship; but it's our lives. You have two maybe three minutes before the sky will be filled with flaming, exploding rounds. Your call, Captain," he said, an infuriating smirk crossing his lips.

Violet ascended the ladder. Her eyes widened to see Josiah standing on the Captain's platform. She didn't think he had been invited and that was a big no-no in Sybil's world.

"Captain?" she asked hesitantly.

Sybil's brow became home to deep brooding lines. Most of Velletri was not hard to fly over. There were some mountains and monuments to think about, but it was preferable to being blown up. But she knew there was nothing beyond the realm of the Maw but the ocean; vast, irradiated, and deadly.

"We are going to the rim. Through Velletri," she said, giving Josiah a hard look that said, 'you'd best be right.'

"I'm going to have to engage the shine boosters and we are going to have to descend into view in order to get the speed we need," she said to Violet.

"Lock everything down you can get your hands on. You have two minutes at most," she said, an explosion just right of them signaling that they didn't even have that. The cricket in her ear was screaming, make it hard to do anything about the danger it was announcing.

"Get below, tell everyone to hold on. We are going to do a quick decent, and then if all goes well, an abrupt take off into Velletri's air space," she said, dismissing Josiah with a wave of her hand.

"But you can't get to the ri—," Violet began to protest when another bolt shot up, this one contacting her figurehead and knocking Josiah the rest of the way down the steps to the floor below.

Without another word, Violet hit the deck, weaving her feet through the coiled mast ropes.

"Gorram," Sybil said under her breath. She'd been shot at plenty of times. There were two stationary guns on the walls where the three Imperium met. Both belonged to Sadovka. While air pilots were not common, they could also be used to barrage the ground, deterring people from trying to scale the wall.

Turning the wheel hard and fast, she spun them around, pointing away from her home and the only place she considered safe on the words of a man whom she still might punch.

A molten bolt exploded mere feet from her head, sparks and cinders raining down, starting a small blaze in a coil of rope.

Sybil glanced at the fire; whether they could reach the rim seemed much less relevant than it had previously. Dropping the ship with stomach flipping speed, she tossed a tarp over the rope, stamping it angrily with her boots.

Steadying the ship, she looked down to see all the guns primed and angled directly at her. With a small prayer to whomever might be listening, she jammed the button for the shine engines all the way in grounding it in with her need to feel those engines kick on. Pushing the lever all the way to red she moved quickly, grabbing ahold of the wheel to keep from falling over the side.

From deep within the guts of the Valkyrie a bubbling noise began. A deep rumbling, the ship vibrating with the power of the boiling shine.

The ship hung above the guns, a suspended target easily in range. For a moment the guard almost felt sorry for the pirate, knowing that within seconds he would give the command to fire and all hell would be opened on what he truly viewed as a remarkable vessel.

Opening his mouth to bring them down, his words were lost as an unholy rumble of thunder followed by sputtering flames erupting from the back of the ship. In the blink of an eye the ship was gone, its trail marked with smoke and the distinct smell of grain alcohol.

On the deck Sybil held the wheel, her head thrown back her body howling with the laughter and joy of freedom.

It was not very often they used the shine engines, and while the Valkyrie was fast on her own, the shine shot her well into the realms of what a small plane from Before Times could have done. She knew this speed would last only as long as the shine in the tanks, and sadly, it burned fast. It was, however, more than enough to get them deep into Velletri and a good distance from the guns.

Steering was not the easiest when using this fuel. It was, at best, a general direction; and she was pleased that this part of Velletri had nothing of note except a few lofty pines. Had they gone in from the north side, she would have had to contend with the old ruins of Italy.

Glancing once again at the smoldering tarp, she guessed that they were a good couple of miles from the wall. Easing the lever up gently, she felt the ship slow. If some shine could be saved, it was for the best. It was hard knowing when she would be back home to resupply.

Easing her speed even more, she guided her gently towards a large clearing in the spotty forest. They were near the less inhabited part of Velletri. But they were also still close enough to the wall that if she decided not to take Josiah's advice, they could easily make another run at the wall once it was full dark.

Reaching the spot, she placed her in hover, hearing Violet's footsteps coming up behind her.

"You okay?" she asked, knowing this was not even close to the most dangerous escape they had ever pulled off.

"Yeah," Sybil answered, not offering any more. She was at odds with her own feelings in several ways and could have used a lot more time than they had to sort it out.

"Want me to sweep the clearing?" she asked, scanning the silent trees. The engines were not loud, but it was enough to silence the animals.

Sybil nodded, lowering them enough to let the trees give them some cover. None of the old growth forest had survived here. There was, on occasion, a resilient grandmother oak, her thick branches growing in defiance of man's poison.

"Nice job! I'll head down and check the clearing," Josiah said, startling both women with his appearance on the bridge.

"Excuse me?" Sybil said, her eyes narrowing.

But before he could answer, Violet placing her hands on her hips, maneuvered her way between the two of them. She looked up to Josiah, color rising in her cheeks.

"I don't know who you think you are, Mister. So far, you've nearly gotten us killed several times, you came up to the bridge uninvited, and now you are trying to take crew assignments," she said, crossing her arms.

"So, before you find yourself spending time in the brig, I suggest you back up and obey the orders given to you by the Captain of this ship!" she finished, glancing back at Sybil who had to quickly stow her growing grin. Violet was a spitfire.

Josiah held his hands up, a smirk gracing his lips.

"Forgive me Captain, I forgot my place. Thank you for saving us. If you need help with the ground sweep, please allow me or Abe to assist," he replied.

Sybil nodded.

"Violet, if you wish to take Abraham with, you feel free," she said, tossing Josiah a glance that was more of a dismissal.

She nodded, moving in a way that forced Josiah to descend from the bridge. Once he was down and out of sight, she turned back to Sybil.

"Sorry if I was out line Sy, I just . . . he irritates me," she said.

"It's all good. You always have my back, and you one hundred percent have the right to reprimand idiotic behavior aboard our ship," she said.

"I'm going to go check the shine tanks, see how much is left. I know we are going to have to refill the boiler if we intend to go all the way to the rim. The moisture tubes will not be fast enough to maintain the speed I expect we will need," she said, moving towards the ladder.

Violet reached out, placing a hand on her arm.

"I know you are wicked smart, and we know the skies better than most. Why are we going to the rim? Even if it is accessible through Velletri, which I doubt, why there? I don't trust him," she said.

Sybil nodded. She had many of the same thoughts, but her gut said, 'go to the rim.' Whether that was Josiah's power convincing her, or her own intuition, her gut said they should go.

She just shook her head in response and shrugged as she made her way towards the innards of her ship.

The banged and bruised occupants of the cabin were stumbling out. Ching went to work on several minor cuts.

Mardrich emerged last. He had a torn piece of Mary's skirt held firmly to a gash that was bleeding heavily just above his eye. Ching turned just in time to catch him as he stumbled.

"Captain, I need blankets!" she shouted at the direction Sybil had disappeared as she watched the familiar signs of shock steal over the old man's face.

Violet, who was strapping herself to a repelling harness, answered.

"In the cabin, bottom of the chifforobe, there are at least two woven and one foil in there," she explained.

Constantine, with a quick nod, made his way to the cabin while the rest of them worked to lay a rather confused Mardrich on the deck.

Abe and Violet finished rigging and jumped over the side. The sooner they knew they were safe, the better.

Descending silently, they left the harried scene above them. It was unlikely that they would find anyone down here, but this part of Velletri was still heavily mined. In the early days, after the nukes went off, a heavily armed group of terrorists had taken this corner and set up a stronghold. They had peppered the fields with mines. In the end, they had died of poisoning and lack of rations as no one could safely cross the field to bring them supplies.

Over time, Nulls, Voids, and even some Templar employees, had come out to the fields to defuse the mines. It was not at all uncommon to see brightly painted rocks laying in the tall grass denoting an unexploded mine.

A deep curse echoed up from the belly of the ship as the entire thing dropped from fifty feet to twenty-five in mere seconds. A chorus of cries from the deck echoed down to the two who dangled from the side.

They hung in the darkness, the moon doing little to lighten the circumstances.

"You okay?" Abe asked, kneading the skin where the taunt ropes had cut into him to halt his nauseating drop.

"Mostly, pretty sure my shirt is ripped," she said, her voice wheezy.

Abe switched on his headlamp. Templar issue solar lamps, they were ten time better than what was available to the general public. He wished he'd grabbed more gear for the others.

"Hang tight, I'm going to do a visual sweep of the ground. I don't know what happened up there, but I'd rather not be under her if it happens again," he said, adjusting his ropes to descend.

"Hang tight," she said with a laugh.

Abe smirked. Her voice sounded a bit more substantial, which was good.

He handed her several glow sticks. "Break those before you descend, keep your eyes on the ground before you step."

"Aye Aye," she said, peering up at the looming ship for any more signs of trouble.

Abe slid slowly from view into the impending darkness. This place had been artificially cleared. That could be a good thing or a bad thing. It might denote a safe area that was cleared, or a likely trap for those seeking to invade.

On the deck things were recovering more slowly. Just as Abe was nearing the ground, Sybil burst from the boiler room, her right arm held tight against her chest. She looked down at her arm, her brow furrowing to see chunks of seared flesh attached to her but not feeling pain.

"I . . . the shine . . . tank . . . it was . . .," she sputtered, frustrated with her mouth's inability to form words.

"Shush honey, you're hurt," a woman beside her said. Tears sprang to her eyes as the woman slipped her arms around her guiding her to the desk before several pairs of hands laid her gently before Ching. Ching looked up to her mother, admiration shining in her eyes. Her love knew no bounds; a child was hurt and in danger and she wrapped them in her motherly love and protected them as if she had born them herself. She had always been a favorite among Ching's friends; feeding and caring for them, some being as young as ten and on their own.

"I'm going to call Abe and the girl back up. If the Captain is hurt, they are the only ones who know how to run this ship," he said, glancing at Sybil to see if she would challenge him.

"Her name, is Violet," was all she said before Ching gave her an oral anesthetic. Glancing at her arm, some of the burns looked to be second degree. This escape was not going well at all.

Josiah nodded, and going to the side, he tugged Abe's rope three times. It was the signal they always used to abort a drop. He didn't know if the girl—Violet would get it, but it might be enough to at least get her attention.

Abe was turning himself upright to settle on the ground when three sharp tugs left him dangling, swaying above the grass.

With a soft sigh he began climbing until he reached Violet.

"We have to go back up. Something's up, up there," he said, annoyed with how loud his whisper sounded in the deepening night.

She nodded, relieved evident on her face as they ascended. By the time Abe's feet had hit the deck, Violet was on her knees beside the Captain, whose eyes were closed.

Josiah laid his hand on Abe's shoulder.

"She's going to be okay, got some burns on her arm. She said something about the shine tank," he said, looking to Violet to see if she understood.

"We engaged too fast; it must have crystallized some of the shine in the intake because we didn't warm it up," she said, brushing a stray hair from Sybil's forehead.

"Can you fly this ship?" Josiah asked, looking at the purple-haired woman before him.

"Yes," she said. Josiah breathed a sigh of relief,

"But," she continued.

"But?" he replied, feeling the knot of dread forming in his gut.

"I'm not all that great at landing her. With the bonus of the shine engine being down, I'll have to check the water tanks. We will have to stop and get water before we reach the Maw," she explained.

"We aren't going back toward Sadovka. We are going along the Wall to the peaks, then we will take the pass between the Stone Giants," Josiah said, his arms crossed. He was used to people obeying his commands and he expected now not to be any different.

"Then what?" Sybil said from behind closed eyes, startling those close to her.

"Then we will go to the lost continent," he said, jutting out his chin.

Voices rose on the deck, loud against the night, ringing out in protest.

Josiah raised his hand.

"I will explain if you will all calm down; remember, we have two injured people here. Ching, you need to see to our first mate's back. She has some Grade A rope burn."

Ching nodded, reaching deep into one of her pockets. This adventure was quickly burning through her supplies.

"I think we are safe enough here in hover to get people moved to more secure spots, and baring any other exciting moments, we should be able to fly along the southern wall," he said.

"If it's the wall, won't they have guns?" Lucky asked

"They only call it the Southern Wall to scare away climbers. For those who make it all the way to the edge of the known world, they are faced with sheer spike peaks, jagged rocks, and in some places, hot beds of lingering radiation. Some of those peaks used to be part of the tectonic plates of the earth before we ripped it apart with atomic greed. As such, those few who make it to the wall sometimes get through the tunnel. Most times they are never seen again," Josiah explained

He looked around noting the surprise on the faces of nearly everyone present. Mardrich just nodded slowly, a stitched-up bruise adorning his right brow.

"If I am correct, it also houses Markov's Gene Center, where he made the stuff in that cylinder we took. That guy in the stables, he uh . . . seemed to recognize it, so we know it was a widespread plot," he said, not looking anywhere but at Lucy as he said this.

"I was there once, I'm pretty sure . . . the memories are a little fuzzy. I think they like it that way, if not erased completely. I remember having blood drawn and riding in a truck on a dirt road. I remember Markov yelling about mutation," he shook his head. Looking up, he realized everyone was staring at him. Color flooded his face.

"Anyway, I got assigned to a prisoner block transport, where we took them as far as the pass and let them go. I raised hell and Markov assured me that they were all murderers and it had been a one-time deal. I wish I could believe that," he shook his head again.

"One of them made it back into Vellteri. I found him hiding in a burned-out house near the border wall. He had almost made it to Sadovka. He told me he was a scientist, and he wanted to get his family from Sadovka and take them back to the coast, to go to the lost continent," he explained

"Did you turn him in?" Abe asked softly. People like that were to be shot on sight or turned in. He knew Josiah was not a fan of 'shoot first, ask later.'

"No. I was going to. I cuffed him, put him in the car, and started driving to the border junction so I could hand him over there," he answered.

"But you didn't turn him in, did you?" Lucy said, her eyes glazing slightly.

"You showed him the tunnel and let him go after his family," she continued, as every head turned except Sybil, who had gone back to resting silently.

Josiah's eyebrows rose, he was the only one who knew how truly special the girls were, and even he was surprised.

"Yeah, I did," he confirmed.

"But that's not the end of it, is it Josiah?" Sybil said, her voice taut with pain.

"No, it's not," he said, his expression changing from surprise to suspicion. He prided himself on his secrets and they were cherry picking them from thin air.

"You helped him when he came back to the tunnel, with a woman, and two . . . no, three small children," Ching said, picking up the narrative.

"Y'all want to tell the rest of the story then?" he asked, keeping his tone light, but his expression spoke of annoyance.

No one else spoke, so after a moment, he continued.

"Yeah, his name's Amal. He brought Rebecca, his wife, and his three kids, all girls, but I can't recall their names," he paused, looking at Ching who shrugged.

"I took them to the pass, I have no idea if they made it, or where he thought he was running to; however, he gave me this," he said, pausing to reach into the vest he wore below his ill-fitting guard costume. He fished around for a moment before coming up with a well-worn folded piece of paper.

"It has the coordinates of the new continent, plus clues to the three gates to get in. Guess they don't like visitors much. He swore it was real and that many others who had all been sent to die in the irradiated sea had made it and they lived beyond the reach of Templar, and away from the demands on the Imperiums," he finished, holding the square in the dim light of the ship's lanterns.

The silence was thick. There was so much to process. The ship hovered silently, bobbing gently in the growing wind.

"So that's it, on the word of a possible murderer, we are to try this mountain pass, and then what? I hate to break it to you, but while she looks like the flag ship of a pirate army, she does not float. There is little chance of us flying all the way there without water stops. Not to mention that we may all be irradiated and die before we even get there," Sybil said, not opening her eyes, the pain drops were beginning to kick in, and while her arm was screamingly raw, she was once more able to form thought.

"Well, um . . . yeah," Josiah said, glancing at Abe for backup.

"It's not like we can go to any of the Imperiums, really. Sadovka will be hunting all of us, and I'm certain the Contessa would turn us over in a heartbeat to avoid Templar backlash. While Pendergrass is the safest by far, it only takes one local with the promise of reward to have our cover blown," Abe said, unsure if he believed in the lost continent or not.

Silence once again reined.

"We will go to the pass. Then, we will determine if we have enough supplies and guts to take a chance that this place is real and not some madman's fantasy," Sybil said while sitting up slowly, her breath hissing through her clenched teeth as the bandage tugged at her charred flesh.

"Violet, you are going to have to help me on the bridge. Abe, I need you to keep an eye on the boiler. Just holler if she goes into the red zone. But watch her, she creeps," she said, righting herself with help from Ching.

"Nice skills Doc, thanks for patching me up," she continued, noting that one of her favorite pirate coats was now missing an arm.

Ching nodded, a smile on her face.

"Any time Captain, though I'd prefer you in one piece," she replied.

Abe was pleased to see camaraderie among the girls. This has been a big shock for them and so much had happened in such a short time. He was hoping that they would learn to lean on each other.

Chapter 12

"You are sure?" Gregor asked, massaging his temple.

"Yes Sir, Nakari is dead. Lucy and Asha are gone. There has been a breakout at the prison wing, and the canister is missing," he said. Jared was Nakari's assistant. Upon finding his master dead, he knew it would be assumed that he would fill the position, even if he never wanted it in the first place.

"Well, that's a load of joyful news. Anything else you'd care to drop on me?" Gregor asked, his tone weary. The shrill whine of the alert siren in the palace was still blaring. When combined with the one along the wall, pain was blooming between his eyes.

"Well, both Markov and your brother are waiting in the outer office to see you," he said, hoping that was at least better than the other news.

Gregor cringed.

"I don't really care if you have anything else; that will be more than enough. Get the PR team on it. Blame it all the air pirate. Put out a reward for her capture, dead or alive. Also, I want Lucy returned, I have no doubt she was taken as a hostage by those bandits. Perhaps as a bargaining chip. Offer whatever it takes," he said, turning towards the window.

"Oh, and for the love of all that is good and holy, shut off that damn alarm," he added, switching on his steam lamp. The light was always dull at first, he preferred the soft yellow glow to the florescent bulbs of old.

"Yes Sir, right away," Jared said, backing out quickly and making a point to avoid eye contact with the Menglan. That man made his skin crawl on a good day, and this had not been a good day.

With the acolyte's retreat, Markov and the Menglan regarded each other. They knew each other by reputation only. Markov worked too hard at this savior image to be associated with a man people feared so much.

"Guess that makes it our turn," Markov said with a shrug before heading towards into the office.

The other man nodded; his eyes rimmed with the evidence of his emotions at the kidnapping of Asha.

"Sit," Gregor said, his tone soft but with no room for disobedience.

Markov and Krieger settled into the lush chairs on the other side of Gregor's elaborate ebony desk. Much like the man who sat behind it, its extravagance and ornate design was all part of the show. Gregor's whole rule revolved around his persona. Wise, hard, even cold, but fair. That was what he tried to cultivate. He had not planned to be ruling over the population as it was now.

Free thinking, weak to things like desire and sadness, Markov had promised him better subjects. Obedient, strong, ready to be further augmented as the serums were invented. But the blasts had come too soon. One toddler dictator with nuclear codes and the scheme that has been nearly twenty years in the making came crashing down in a series of very loud booms.

The blasts not only set back the implementation of the mass inoculations, but it destroyed two of the labs and changed the natural world as they knew it. Now things mutated in ways they never would have without a nuclear bath. It has been a hard road to get back to where they were to have started, and now this. Someone had taken the first batch of mutation serum. Once again, his plans dashed just as they began.

He regarded the man in black. He'd known Markov a very long time. In his later years it seems he had become fond of sugar and sitting, his once sculpted body having gone to seed. He only glanced a moment at his brother. They may have been twins, both driven to power, but he could not imagine the darkness that he fed with his experiments. Had Now Times been like Before Times, he'd have been executed long ago.

But now he needed him, he had one of the largest unsanctioned goon forces in the Imperiums. He'd been given criminals, those with death sentences. They would ride to Heaven with the Menglan or they would swing. He was surprised how none of the women sentenced ever chose life aboard the train instead of the emptiness of death.

He was not overly a fan of women. They had uses, of course; the right woman could sway a lessor man, make him give up his secrets, overtake his mind, and lure him into dangerous waters. He employed this tactic often with the lower aristocracy, lending out beautiful maidens who sometimes returned not only with secrets but with a head or two.

"Do we know what happened?" Markov said, impatient with Gregor's silence.

"We know the canister was taken from the organ room by a man. He stole a guard's uniform after brutally beating him and dumping him in a steam tunnel. We know that the air pirate, Captain Hook, is involved as her ship was seen over the wall; not to mention she had to have had some help getting out of her cell. So, I must assume we are dealing with a group of conspirators," he said, realizing that he indeed, did not know much.

"How did they know about the canister? How did he get into the organ room, or out for that matter? The steam locks won't just open for anyone," Markov said.

Gregor glared at him; this man had a terrible habit of stating obvious things.

"Given that I designed the locks on that room, I have no idea, I can only guess that whomever it is, is either an inside man, or brilliantly lucky." Gregor replied.

"Lucky, huh?" Markov said as a connection tugged at the edge of his mind.

"As for how they knew about the canister I can only wonder. I know none of us are involved. Nakari is dead, and the preacher man is deep in the Maw cavern looking for enlightenment.

Krieger snuffed a laugh.

"I guess that's one way to spin it, locked up in the secret dungeon under the steam factory," he said, giggling again at his own joke.

Markov rolled his eyes at the man.

"How soon can you make more?" Gregor asked. It was going to be much harder to deliver it now that this attempt had gone poorly, but there was no way he intended to stop.

"You are kidding, right? It took us nearly a year to get that batch together. The backup batch is only about half that amount, and it's locked in the Gene center," he replied, folding his hands over his ample gut.

"So . . . what, we've lost? All of our work, all of our plans, gone because some yahoo got handsy with something he can't possibly understand?" Gregor asked, frustration pulsing in the vein above his brow.

"No, now we have to get it back. We can sell it as an improved radiation protection. They flocked to that with the test batch," Markov replied.

"Is Group A still functional?" he asked, realizing he had become out of touch with the operations of his own plan.

"Well, yes . . . mostly. One of them experienced terrible nightmares after the injection. He lasted about a week before he hung himself in his room with a belt. The rest of them are droning away. They are working in the munition factory, making steam bolts. So far, we have seen no sign of them reverting to free thought or imagination," he said, a pleased smile touching his lips. This may have been Gregor's plan, but he took great pride in the results.

"Well, that's good." Gregor replied, drumming his fingers against the desk, the thudding echoing around the dark room

"I will help you look," Krieger suddenly said.

"I can take the speed tracks; we can cover a fair amount of distance quickly, I just don't know where to start or how to find her," he added.

"That, I can help you with. The serum inside that container has a very distinct radiation marker. I'm going to have to go back to base, but I have a couple of Geiger counters that have been altered to read that signature," he said.

Both men turned to look at him, eyebrows raised.

"It was an idea one of our scientists had. There is a small percentage of the populace, that when exposed to the mutagen, have the opposite response. Some become very intelligent, some mad as hatters. He wanted to be able to track them in case any of our subjects went AWOL during trials," he explained.

"It's the RD marker, yes?" Gregor asked.

"Yup. We had a decent registry of those who possessed the RD marker, a lot of that, and them were lost in the blasts," he continued.

"Were you not running RD mating trials at one point?" Gregor asked.

"We tried. Nine times out of ten we ended up with a bunch of loons before we even got to the breeding stage. The last RD males that we knew of had died shortly after the blasts. I think it's far more likely to expect an outbreak of lunacy instead of super intelligent beings." Markov said.

"It's less than the casualty margin, so putting them down won't hurt numbers at all," he added.

Krieger was staring at him with suspicion. Gregor was not a man of science and Markov used that to his advantage. But his brother . . . he was a doctor and far more likely to detect the lies woven into his truths.

"How can you be sure that the radiation will not change the outcome of the serum. Human DNA has changed since the blasts, especially in those born after it," he said, his accent giving clipped edges to his words.

Markov forced a polite smile. He did not like being questioned in the best of times, and this was far from the best.

"That would be why it takes so long to make and why it took us years to prefect the serum to fit eighty-nine percent of the current population," he said, his words ringing more than a touch condescending.

Krieger just nodded in reply.

"Krieger, take Markov to Rome and get the detectors. I want you to have one. I'm sure Templar will be sending out a team, but I'd also like to use the Wheelers," he said.

"Why would you want to use a bunch of maniacs?" Markov asked, his expression disgusted.

"Because they are true outcasts. Even more so than the Nulls, they know the places that cannot be found and are easily bribable." Gregor said.

The other two men nodded; the yellow light had gotten up to its potential, bathing the three figures in a sickly yellow glow.

Chapter 13

Once everyone was situated, Violet and Sybil ascended the bridge. Abe had ducked below with Josiah, following him closely. Once the boiler door was shut, Abe whirled and looked at him.

"You know, I really want to punch you right now," Abe said, leaning against the tank, the warmth of the boiler easing his tired shoulders.

"I can actually understand that, and I would not hold it against you if you did," Josiah said, waiting to see if a punch was indeed forthcoming. When Abe didn't move, he settled cross legged onto a pile of blankets in the corner.

"I can't thank you enough Abe, for everything. Taking care of the girls, letting me nearly get you killed a number of times, and most of all, for not ignoring my call for help," he said, looking at his feet.

Abe studied him in the low light from the steam lamp. When he met Josiah, his face had been fresh, rugged perhaps, but soft to the ravages of time. Now he wore worry lines on his brow, deep purple crescents moons under his eyes spoke to many nights of missed sleep.

"I did what I did not only for you; you've got some pretty amazing kids, man," he said, glancing at the boiler gauge, which spiked as the ship once again rose above the tree line.

"What I want to know is what the hell you were doing inside Gregor's asylum? I mean, of all the places to hang out," he said, crossing his arms and hoping for the rest of the story.

"Amal, he . . . he told me about the canister. It had been delivered nearly a month before his sentence. He truly believed that his knowledge of it is why he was marked as disposable and tossed off the edge. He believed it to be a weapon. It drove all the Geiger counters bat shit. They stored it in the lab inside the Maw," he began.

Abe held up a hand.

"First, gene centers in mountains, and now labs in the Maw?" he asked.

"I know it all sounds nuts, but we both know the general public knows next to nothing about what Templar does about the way the new world is manipulated. About those who were not only ready for the blast, but who had already begun preparing for what was to come next," he said, his voice raising in pitch.

"Whatever is inside that canister is the next step in the master plan. If we can get it to Amal, then perhaps they can tell us what is to come next. Because if you think for a moment that this will stop Markov . . .,"

"I'm not sure even death could stop him," Abe said, weariness sneaking into his tone

"But what if Amal died, Jo? What if there really is no lost continent and we are literally flying to our own deaths?" he asked.

"I don't know," Josiah answered, his voice small.

". . . I really don't." he finished

******************************************************************

"How you feel, Cap?" Violet asked, stealing a sideward glance at her friend.

"I've been worse; although, were it not for the pain medication, I don't think I'd be standing at all," she replied, leaning heavily against the rail. It was hard to watch someone else at the controls. She trusted Violet implicitly with her ship and her life, but as Violet often reminded her, she was a control freak.

"Go ahead, ask what you really want to know," Sybil said with a touch of smirk.

"Why am I, on the word of a man who has never really done anything good for me, flying to the end of the known world to look for something that likely does not exist?" she continued.

"Well, actually yes," Violet said with a grin.

"In some ways he is correct. There are very few safe places for us now. I'm sure we could hide out in Velletri for a time. Dodge Templar and even Gregor by running. I'm sure the General could be helpful. Or we could try to go the corner and back into Pendergrass; but then, more running. I don't want to live what I have left of this life looking over my shoulder, waiting for whatever it is they have planned to befall us," she said, adjusting the sling on her arm. It hurt to bend, but she had no desire to leave it hanging and unprotected.

Violet was silent, digesting the information before speaking again.

"Do you believe in the lost continent?" she asked, guiding the ship past a tall pillar of stone, this side of Velletri had more than a few ruins of manmade architecture.

"When I was with the Menglan, there was a woman there, a Void captive chained with me. She said she had sent her Null children with a group bound for the lost continent. She said she would much rather have them die to the earth's vengeance than at the hands of a mad man," she said, her expression distant.

"The conviction in those who speak of it is certainly convincing, but I can't imagine putting that much faith into something no one has ever come back from," she continued.

"It's kind of like asking if I believe in God and Satan. Do I truly believe that an invisible sky man turned his back on us when we sought to destroy ourselves? Or that the evil man suddenly decided to be our savior and gave us the Maw? It's seems rather fantastical to any and almost all logic, but man some of those devotees have a faith that can sway," she finished with a shrug that brought forth a grimace.

"So, we go to the lost continent . . . if it's there. If it's not, which I'm more inclined to believe, let's hope there is somewhere out there to gather supplies and limp ourselves back home," Violet said, looking to the looming mountains ahead. They looked rather close, but she knew they had at least a night of flying before they would arrive. Even without the air guns, it was best not to be seen at all.

Sybil nodded, hoping that it was there, but realizing if all they found was open water, death would indeed find them long before Gregor could.

******************************************************************

Markov stood silently beside Heaven. He knew the train well; it had been one of their medic transports before Gregor had purchased it for his twin. His evil twin, Markov's mind added; though, it was hard to think of Gregor as the good one. Power hunger was one thing. Chopping up people for fun? That was an entirely different ball of wax.

"Welcome aboard," Krieger said, glancing at the round man. He truly disliked having anyone aboard his train who did not work for him. Most people did not understand and grew squeamish too easily. But Markov was a military man. He would most likely not throw up or pass out.

"I have very few guests aboard the Heaven express currently, as I was hoping to fill it after the ceremony," he explained, his tone wistful.

"All good things in time I suppose," he said with another wide smile.

Markov felt his skin crawl, fighting every urge to walk away from this man and never look back.

"Let me show you to the guest quarters. It's not as spacious as you are accustomed to, I'm sure, but I don't think you want to go into the containment cars," he said, nodding his head towards the back three cars which had no windows.

"I think the guest quarters will be just fine, thank you. How long do you anticipate it will take us to reach Rome?" he asked, trying to follow the man while keeping as much distance as possible.

"Since we are using the speed tracks and have no checkpoints to pass through, I anticipate having you back at home in six hours or so," he said, stopping to slide the door open.

Markov nodded; his own train had taken nearly twelve. He much preferred the shorter duration.

Sliding as carefully past the man as his gut would allow, he settled in the recliner.

"I'm going to nap; we have a hard chase ahead of us," he said, closing his eyes, hoping Krieger would take the hint.

The soft whoosh of the door as it closed indicated that he had.

Watching the door, a long moment Krieger waited, it was not often he had unrestrained guests onboard and the idea of that fat moron wandering through all his work made his temples pulse. He was on edge, he had little care for his brother's schemes and manipulations. He was a man of science. His work would continue regardless. He had so many ideas, so many things to test out. He could spend the rest of his life on the projects he had alone. Although if he could master the ageing gene, perhaps he would not have to die at all.

"Put someone at the end of the guest corridor. If he sticks one greasy paw outside of those rooms, I want to be informed," he said with a yawn.

Moving into his room, he proceeded to lay down. Six hours and then he was free to hunt for the woman who had eluded him. There was something special about her, there had to be. No normal woman could have escaped him. No one before or after had ever escaped him. Her betrayal had cut him deep. He had been so kind to her. Most did not receive medications. He adored the sound of human pain; it made his mind so clear. But her eyes, the color of a winter sky. Slate gray but burning with her hatred. She was a survivor like him. She had forged her own way in this new world, and he respected her for it. Not that he would ever admit that out loud. He had given her a pain shot, to ease her passing, to show her that he prized her as a specimen.

And what had she done? She had nearly killed him and ran; he had marked her though. She would always remember who had held her captive, who had been able to master this woman who was no more than a child really. A remarkable child perhaps, but still so young. Now she had once again landed as his adversary, but this time she would not receive grace or compassion. He would remove her head so that he could take the eyes at his own leisure. Then perhaps he would mount it on the wall as a reminder that there was no will but his in Heaven.

He came out of his thoughts to see his addiction had taken control, the needle in his hand, the tourniquet tied. The oblivion that waited within calling to him.

Just half a dose, he told himself as the needle punctured a familiar vein. Just half a dose, he repeated to himself as the plunger slid all the way home, delivering every drop to his awaiting body.

He closed his eyes feeling his body loosen as his joints forgot their ache, the pounding in his temple vanished. The sweet glow slid over him, enveloping him, cradling his body in bliss as he slid into its silvery depths.

******************************************************************

"I know I'm not the best at it! But you can't do it at all, and Abe's never landed her, so you are just going to have to relax," Violet said, shooing Sybil away from the controls. The pain killers were starting to wear off and her face had become drawn and pale.

Abe and Josiah had cleared their landing space just before dawn. It was going to be a tight fit. They had found a clearing against the base of the southern wall. It had been decided that they should only fly at night. It would be better if those pursuing them had no place to start looking.

Violet glanced down at the sliver of space between the unforgiving hull-ripping rocks and the line of tress that was to be their cover. Normally, just flattening some trees would be no big deal for the Valkyrie. After all, she was made of copper and brass; and while scratchable, she was rather hard to puncture with wood alone.

However, this time the meddling trees in question were also their cover. So, the more of them that survived, the more covered they would be.

Violet took a deep breath and glanced below to see the main deck deserted. At least there would not be a ton of witnesses to her rather bad parking job.

"Here goes," she said, pulling the leaver to lower them. The ship dropped slightly after first, so she pulled harder. The ship lowered a couple of feet.

"Okay, I got this," she said, mostly to herself.

The sun was tipping up over the horizon behind them, she needed to move faster. Taking the lever, she jammed it all the way down. She watched the panic in Sybil's face before she was thrown straight up as the ship dropped from the sky, landing with a loud crunching sound as it impacted the rocks.

Violet looked down at Sybil who had landed on the main deck and was staring upwards at her first mate who had become tangled in the rigging.

"Well, we are parked," was all she said.

A few more scrapes to treat after their descent, but nothing serious.

By the time the sun had cleared the horizon, breakfast was being cooked. Sybil had been heavily medicated and sent to bed; and Violet, who had vanished into the boiler room, came back, her eyes red-rimmed from crying.

"You okay?" Constantine asked as he gently re-bandaged her rope burns.

"I uh, yeah," she said, looking away as more tears threatened.

"I understand why you are upset, but I'm going to tell you now you did a better job than any of us could have. While it was not the smoothest landing in history, we are all safe and nothing is damaged. Don't beat yourself up, kid," Mardrich added with a smile.

He may not like Josiah, or the turmoil he brought with him, but those girls were extraordinary, and they kept excellent company. He looked up to see Lucy standing on the bow of the ship, staring off into the forest as if searching for something.

He made his way over to her.

"Hey kid," was all he said.

"Hey," she replied.

The sound of her voice gave away that Violet was not the only one shedding tears.

"I'm really sorry," he began.

She turned to look at him, her slate gray eyes wet.

"I think I'm more the one who should be sorry, you are only here because of me. You've been hurt, and by signing on to this circus, you have lost your home and all your animals," she said, tears sneaking down her cheeks.

"You didn't ask for this any more than I did Lucy, but I'd much rather lose all of that, than be mourning you and Asha," he said, wiping a tear from her cheek.

She nodded, not trusting her voice.

"What I am sorry about though, is Lilia. I know how much you loved her. If there is a life after this, I know her brother will pay for his sins," he said, feeling his own tears rise. Lila had been a good friend to him and had made his Lucy happy. Her death was pointless. Her only sin was loving outside what other people considered normal. That should never have been a death sentence.

Lucy swayed towards him before pressing into his arms for a hug. It was hard for him to believe that this tall woman had once been the child who used to demand hugs.

"I loved her so much, I . . .," she said before her words were swallowed by muffled sobbing against his shoulder. Kyros, who perched on the railing nearby, clucked softly at the sound of his Mistress's tears. Mardrich looked to the bird, nodded gently to let him know she was safe.

Down below, Asha watched the pair. Mardrich had been Lucy's father in deed and purpose. He loved her, his protective hand guiding her upbringing. She closed her eyes as she lay her head against the ship. Lucy was prone to nightmares, seeing people and hearing things that no one else could. Now at least she knew the reason for it, it had to have something to do with her sisters and that man. She had not decided how to feel about Josiah at this point, so she thought it best if she passed on thoughts of him for now.

Her mind was drawn to the past, to the screams of panic from Lucy's room that woke her more nights than not. They tried every tea, every salve, every old wives' tale they could find, and nothing had worked. On that night she was not overly surprised to see Mardrich coming up the stairs as she headed down the hall. Lucy was nearly nine, much too old for night terrors. The child would wake and scream, unable to be calmed or roused. One night, in desperation, she had gone as far as throwing a glass of cold water onto her in hope of shocking her out of whatever was tormenting her. It had no effect, though the guilt had followed her for months.

"I don't know if I can help, but please let me try," was all he had requested when they met at her bedroom door as they would so many times over the coming years.

She nodded, following him in.

First, he tried talking, making animal sounds, dancing around like a fool, anything to try to get her attention. On she wailed, her poor face beet red, her cheeks warm and wet crossed with a thousand tear tracks. Pausing, he reached down and picked her up, swinging her gently in his arms, back and forth. He tried it just a bit faster and her cries subsided, and she slept through the rest of the night. Before dawn had come, Mardrich had the carpenters out of bed to build Lucy a swing in her room. At first, they sill continued every night but lasted until the swing could calm her. Then every night became a couple of days a week, which gave way to one or two a month. Eight days before her tenth birthday, the last one came. The normal ten minutes of swinging did not cut it that time. Every time the swing would stop her sobs would begin. She spent the entire night on the swing. She had feared it was a relapse, but it was indeed the end.

Glancing as someone settled beside her, she was surprised to find Jia.

"Hi," she said.

"Hello," she replied.

"I um . . . well, how does one start a conversation in a situation such as this? I could always start with, 'so I hear we know the same man,' or go old school and yell about you taking my man. I could even go with the, 'hey, wanna help me throw him off the side?' line," she said with a grin.

Asha laughed.

"Well, we do indeed know the same man, I promise you can keep him, and when?" she replied.

Jia laughed.

"I'm pleased to see that since we are all drawn together by said man, the company is excellent. Your daughter is a medical wiz. Is she a Medici?" Asha asked, drawing her knees up under her. She was lucky to find that the Captain always kept spare clothing on board for herself as well as people they were transporting. She had snagged a pair of black, what she would call, lounge pants. They were a little short, but given her height, it was something she was used to.

"Ching a doctor? Don't let her hear you say that you will get a twenty-minute history on how doctors no longer care about people and should all be shot. She has a few opinions," she laughed. "She's a chem runner. She and her group create medications, antibiotics, vaccines, and pain medications. She then gives it out to the citizens of Vellteri and those who live outside the mediocre help the Imperium provides," she said.

"I fairly certain that I am about to show my ignorance here, but your Imperium does not provide medications to its citizens?" Asha asked, her brow furrowed.

"If you can pay for it, maybe. But to be honest, a lot of the stuff they give out is expired, or worse, irradiated. So, not much help to be had there. We don't go without because . . . Josiah . . . well, he's Templar so . . .," she said, leaving the meaning hanging in the air.

Asha nodded, "We always received the best because of Gregor, so I understand."

"I feel bad for our Captain, losing her own mother so suddenly," Jia replied.

"She is a remarkable young woman. Aside from whatever special voodoo our kids do when they are together, she built this ship, in a barn, in the middle of Pendergrass. That alone is rather amazing," Asha said.

"I have to agree; the girl's skills really are complimentary, have you noticed?" Asha added.

At that moment Josiah Carter came strolling out of the boiler room, stretching in the sun, turning to the right just in time to see both Jia and Asha staring suspiciously at him. He waved, faked a polite smile, and bounded up to the bridge where they could no longer see him.

Josiah shouted up to the crow's nest.

"Shift change," he said, cringing as several birds took flight around them.

Violet slid down the ropes and rolled her eyes at him.

"You sure you know what you're doing? I thought you Templar boys were well trained," she said, showing him for the second time the small rope that changed the flag in the crow's nest to alert the lookout without sound.

"Oh . . . yes. I forgot about that, sorry," he said, climbing up towards the crow's nest. They had decided that half of them would sleep until noon, the other half, until supper so they could take shifts at night and always have a decent crew on deck. The Captain, however, would not be on deck, except to assist in the raising and the course setting before resting again.

Violet yawned and glanced at him. "Not so great and powerful after all, are you, Josiah Carter?"

Lucy woke to the smell of something being roasted. Her stomach grumbled.

"I agree," said Violet, who sat up rubbing her eyes.

Lucy chuckled.

"Let's go find out what that delightful smell is then, shall we?" Violet said, standing. Looking down, she noticed Sybil's eyes come open and start to focus.

"Yes, I will bring you some food, Captain," Violet said. Whoever was cooking that had gotten all the sleepers' attention.

Opening the door, Violet was surprised to see the gangplank down and a mini cooking range, complete with fire, had been set up.

"What on earth?" she asked no one in particular.

"It seems our young Constantine is quite adept at cooking from rations and available resources. He found the crate of cooking supplies, and the result is what you smell," Josiah said with a deep bow and smug smirk that made him almost handsome.

"I should be mad at you for being so obvious, but I'm starving," Violet said, walking down the plank. She was handed a bowl. Ironically enough, one that had been bound for Gregor's party before they had stolen it, and then went on to steal his party too.

She chuckled to herself as a steaming scoop of brown stew went into her bowl.

"That smells divine, Constantine. You, Sir, by authority of being the Captain now, are hired as ship's cook, effective immediately," she said before spooning the excellent meal into her mouth.

He smiled broadly.

"Thanks," he replied.

"I must admit, sometimes I forget you are even with us. You are so quiet. Also, this is delicious," Asha said.

"Back home they call him the Shadow, he slips around, and no one seems to see him," Jia said with a smile.

"That is a well-earned nickname," Violet agreed between bites.

Abe came down from the crow's nest and descended the plank.

"I'm almost as tired as I am hungry. Now, good Shadow, pass me a second bowl. I'm going to join our dear Captain," he said with a nod to everyone else.

"Thank you. I was about to head up there myself, but I'd love a chance to get seconds," Violet said, handing him a hunk of bread.

Abe nodded and left, her yawn echoing back to them.

Abe nodded to Josiah who was on deck watch. "Go get some food brother, I got the Captain and the deck," he said with a nod towards the cheerful gathering below.

Josiah nodded and headed down, "Thanks."

Abe opened the door, surprised to see Sybil sitting in her, chair looking over a hand drawn map that showed the new world, along with the rim.

"Hey, I didn't expect to see you up," he said, placing the bowl down gently.

"I need to move; I've been laying too long. I'm stiffening up," she said, learning to use her left hand to eat.

"This is amazing," she said after she swallowed.

"I'll agree to that. Constantine cooked it," he said, enjoying it as much as she had.

"Cooked it from what? I'm afraid to say I don't know what I'm eating, other than the potatoes and the carrots that came from the galley. Oh, and the bread . . . but the rest I'm unsure of, but it's honestly too good to care," she said.

"He did some forest scouting. The meat, I think is rabbit, though it might be opossum, But I try not to think about that," Abe said.

She closed her eyes.

"Yes, not thinking about that. Could I get a status report on my ship? I did not want to ask Violet because she was so upset out the landing," she asked while dipping her bread into the gravy.

"Yeah she was a little shaken up. Hell, we all were," he said with a grin that caused Sybil to snort. Abe had tried very hard to be a father figure for her, and she loved him for it.

"But your lady? She's fine, couple of dents, but none that made it past layer two. Didn't even disrupt the cooling system. We can bang those out if . . . well, if we ever get somewhere to do that," he said, glancing at the map.

She nodded.

"I'm really glad to hear that. Violet. Is she okay, the others?" she asked, using the bread to get up the last of the gravy.

"Violet is fine, the others are okay, no new injuries to report. We will be ready to take off around midnight and we will head for the last outpost Templar has before the pass. Now, it's risky, but as far as I know, Markov has no idea that either Josiah or I am involved. He asked me to bring Josiah back in to run an assignment, so I'll just tell them our Jeep broke down and we need some supplies to drive back to base," he explained.

Sybil paused mid-bite as he spoke.

"Okay. Well, um . . . what? How are you going to convince them we need, what is probably a month's supply of steam out here, to drive a Jeep across Velletri?" she asked, using his pause to finish off her supper.

"Well, I was actually hoping we could relieve them of it, without their knowledge, after we get the normal supplies, which will include a kit, that will help your arm," he said, gesturing to the limb she had tucked protectively against her.

She chuckled, "Abe are you a good guy or a bad guy?"

"I'm a me and mine guy. Which means I take care of my family. Now, how my family got to be ten people aboard a flying pirate ship running from the law, I'm a little hazy on. But here we are, so I'll go with it," he said with a grin.

"I really appreciate you; you know, you've always been there for me. You were there for mom after Mr. Dimples conveniently had to be elsewhere," she said.

Abe laughed.

"I have enjoyed watching you grow up; you are an exceptional young woman and brighter than anyone I've ever met. If anyone can get us to this lost continent, it's you," he said, standing to stretch, eyeing the most comfortable-looking of the floor nests to settle into.

"You should lay down and rest more. They will come get you when it's time. You are, after all, the Captain. I know Violet doesn't want to be at the controls and I'm way too tired. I'm already seeing double after this adventure," he said, swallowing a yawn.

She nodded and returned to her bed, grateful for the feel for her feather bed more now than she could ever remember.

Outside, Abe heard Josiah's knock to tell him he was back on deck and he was free of duty. Abe drifted off immediately, thankful for a dreamless rest.

"The moon is at her high point. It is time." Asha said, her voice carrying down the ladder to Jia who took those words to Violet who was resting so she could drive all night.

Violet stood, turning to wake Sybil, she gave out a short yelp when she met the eyes of her Captain.

"Goodness. I didn't expect you to be awake, woman. You scared me to death," she said, playfully swatting her uninjured arm.

"Sorry. I heard them coming, habit and all," she said, sitting up slowly. The truth was the pain had woken her nearly an hour ago. She badly wanted to take the meds and fade into that haze of low pain. But she had to drive, and driving meant a clear head. She would never drive her lady without a clear head. So, the pain would have to be until after they were in the air. She knew her burns were bad; she'd been scalded once before on her right hip when she'd been experimenting with engines for the Valkyrie. This was not a new pain, but one she would rather have not remembered again.

They walked out gingerly, stepping among those who were awakening for the evening shift. Stepping out into the dark, Sybil looked straight up, pleased to see so many stars as she much preferred the clear open fields of Velletri to Sadovka. When you fly among the stars, you feel a cosmic connection to the universe that spawned our little planet, she thought.

Ascending the bridge, she looked over the levers. Violet had primed all the engines, every drop of water they had on board was now inside her boiler. She looked at the map. If they stayed on course and were careful of winter squalls that liked to escape from the pass, they just might make it. She had never seen the pass. She had never had a reason to trudge all the way to the end of Velletri for that matter.

She had pieced together from various maps that somehow Antarctica had made its way north to crash into them. Somehow it had retained its frigid nature; hence, the snow from the mountains. That's why they sent prisoners there, to die in what they were told was a frozen wasteland. She shook her head. Man had destroyed the world, killed billions of people, and reshaped the planet. With all that in common, they still seemed to find something to judge others for. Plots, schemes, and power plays. Mankind truly was exhausting.

Her shoulders slumped a bit under the weight of her thoughts causing Violet to rush over.

"You okay?" she asked quietly.

"Yes, just weighed down by the ridiculous antics of our species," she said with a smirk

Violet rolled her eyes.

"We ready?" she asked

"We are. Everyone, please clear the deck or assume your assigned position; we will be ascending momentary," she watched as everyone did as they were told as a sense of pride welled in her. It was nice to have a crew.

She looked at Violet, a small smile crossing her lips.

"You ready?" she said.

"As long as you are not going to ask me to take the controls on the way up, then yes, we are ready," she replied with a smirk.

"Well, you know what they say about practice," Sybil replied.

"Yup, and sometime when we are not running from the law and trying to remain hidden, I will practice," she shot back.

"That is entirely fair," Sybil replied with a chuckle.

Raising the levers with a slow and practiced push, they began their less than graceful accent to the sky. Birds flew off in every direction as the ship broke branches and rattled limbs. Even with the crunching and rustling, the ascent was slow and practiced. Sybil truly was the master of this ship.

The Valkyrie broke free of the tree canopy, her escape announced by the last few tenacious branches dragging their way across the metal hull. It reminded Josiah very much of nails on a chalkboard.

Sybil's arm screamed as she held it to her body. The skin was starting to stiffen. Ching had told her that once they had a proper medicine kit, she was going to drug the daylights out of her and remove all the burned skin.

Setting a north-westerly course, Sybil turned to look at Josiah. "You've been to this pass before. Can you give us any idea how far out the storms go?" she asked

"I know that they have gear at the Templar station to dig out if they get nailed, but I don't think that has happened, or if it has, its been a long time. It is cold there, so when you go in to borrow the steam canisters, keep an eye out for the winter gear packs. It's a lightly manned base, but it should have at least two dozen sets as per protocol," he explained.

"Who is going on the away team?" Violet asked, taking the controls from Sybil. That was always her territory, but she knew with Sybil injured, she needed to stay with the ship.

"No more than three, it's not a big base and a large team would be seen," he said, pulling a map out of his vest.

"I would go if I was not the distraction. So, I'm going to suggest Constantine, Ching, and Mary," he said, thoughtfully spreading out a rather detailed map of the new world.

"Where did you get the map?" Sybil asked. She loved maps, new world, old world . . . She'd been compiling a map of her own made from the sky, but looking at his, she realized there was very little of the new world she had covered.

"I swiped it from central command about six months after the blast. It was not as accurate as the mapmaker had claimed, but it was rather hard to know that, so everyone bought his map. I've been correcting it and adding to it as I go. I have most of Velletri and Sadovka, but I have not been back to Pendergrass in a long time," he said.

"I know," Sybil replied softly

Jia who was ascending the ladder as the exchange happened, cringed. Sybil felt very strongly about Josiah's abandonment.

"I'm going to lay down. Violet come get me for landing," she said, turning on her heel. Her expression gave away none of the pain she was feeling, especially since the pain in her heart far eclipsed that of her charred flesh.

She nodded to Jia before disappearing back into the cabin where she was grateful to gulp down a few drops of the pain liquid before collapsing into her bed.

Josiah folded up his map. Glancing at Jia, he knew he could no longer hide from his wife.

"Jia I . . .," he began.

"Yes, I'm sure you do, and we will talk about that in a moment, I'm here to bring Violet some leftover stew and bread. She has the important job of keeping us all alive," she said, setting the towel-covered bowl and thick hunk of buttered bread beside the ship's wheel.

Violet beamed. April had been a mother to her even if she considered herself too independent for such things. After all, she had to care for Sybil, but her heart broke when April died. She longed for the comfort of knowing that while she and Sybil were off doing God knows what, they always had a home, with warm beds, mended clothing, and good food.

"I'm on crow's nest duty. If you wish to come up with me to say whatever it is you need to say, you can," Jia said, climbing the ropes slower than she wanted to, but without looking back to see if he was following.

Josiah looked around. Everyone was busy or resting. It was a good time, but that did not make him any more motivated to do it.

He climbed the ropes faster than she had, his training showing through. He climbed into the crow's nest, pleased to find it was built to accommodate at least two regularly sized people and possibly three small ones. The ship was impressive.

Jia gazed out toward the horizon, her expression neutral, her jet-black hair soaking in the moonlight.

"I would start with 'I'm sorry,' if I where I you," she said.

He nodded and cracked a smile.

"I'm sorry. For a lot of things. For not telling you about the project, the girls, for being gone. For being a rather shit husband if I do say so myself," he said, offering his dimples.

Jia nodded.

"I can forgive most of that, honestly. I'm the most upset that you left the girls with no support. Lucy was more than stable, and I can see why leaving her be and not arousing Gregor's suspicions was for the best. But Sybil? Abe has been a good father to her, but she was alone. I would have taken her in," she said.

Josiah paused. In all the times he had played out this conversation in his head, this was never how it had gone. He had imagined her yelling, crying, even throwing things. Yet, her anger was plowed through by her compassion.

"I was unaware April had died; which is only true because I was not checking in. I let Abe bear my responsibility while I played at saving the world," he said softly.

She was silent a long moment.

"Why me?" she asked.

"I was the last one pregnant, why did you stay with me? Marry me?" she asked, her arms folded.

"April, Asha, they were assignments, targets. I honestly believed that if we could produce RDF children, we might be able to save the world," he paused.

"I fell in love with you. I have no other explanation, reason or excuse. Your wit, your charm, your true heart," he shrugged, stuffing his hands in the pockets of Abe's spare pants.

"I truly want to believe you. I do. But if you loved me, why didn't you tell me? We could have rescued these young women much sooner," she said.

"If you recall, I'm the one who needed to be rescued. Other than April's untimely death, I thought they were all safe. I didn't tell you. I wanted to . . . I couldn't come up with a way to explain the entire situation without you thinking I was nuts or worse, leaving me," he said, glancing up at the sky feeling the pull of the universe as the cold starlight lit the scene.

"Did you ever intend to tell me?" she asked softly.

"I honestly hoped I would never have to, that the world would trudge on; survivors surviving . . . rebuilding. Learning from our mistakes at playing God. I had hoped someday for Lucy to come to power in Sadovka. It was incredible luck that Gregor picked Asha for his harem, made her much easier to get to," he said, cringing slightly under Jia's stare.

"Like it or not, Josiah Carter; those young women are your daughters. They are not products of an assignment, or specimens for Markov's gene center. They are brilliant, evolved, dangerous, and right now, at least two of them are mighty pissed at you. Now, I can't tell you what to do, but I'm going to make a very strong suggestion. You need to get to know them, all three of them. Expect some push back from Ching, she is crestfallen. You are her hero," she said, glancing out into the night again.

"All of that aside, I heard something before they took me in to clock me. One of the Techs was setting up a transfer chamber for "the Serum," as they called it. I would not have thought anything of it if I had not heard the other ask about the RD booster," she said.

Josiah's face transformed in an instant from one of chagrin and shame to pure fury.

"He clocked you?" he said, his voice causing those on the deck to look up in alarm.

Jia looked over the side and gave the thumbs up to the others, catching a small grin on Asha's face. She was pleased to see Mr. Carter getting a talking to.

"Yes, I refused him a last time, and then he sent the retrievers for me," she said, lowering her voice further.

"That . . . man . . . sent those monsters into my house?" Josiah said, his voice hushed but his color reaching a summer-ripe tomato.

The retrievers were a squad even more specialized then Abe and Josiah's had been. They were enhanced, often with machines, gears, and such to make them faster, stronger, and smarter. That had been the intent. Early after the blasts, when the world was still relocating its moral compass, many deeds went on in the shadows.

Augmentation has been huge in the first five or so years. People replacing damaged body parts with whatever they could salvage and weld on. Most of them became outcasts or died from the process. The Wheelers were the most publicly known group of augmenters, shunned and ignored, which was exactly how Markov wanted it.

He created his own augmented team and called them the retrievers, sent them into places no solider would ever go, on jobs that he would have a hard time convincing a rational person to do. They were a great asset to him. Then, augmentation was outlawed. Not willing to give up his toys, Markov simply made them vanish. Anyone who spent a significant amount of time at the Rome base, and who had appropriate clearance, would know that they all lived in the catacombs, augmenting and experimenting on themselves.

Markov only used them when he truly believed the target could avoid him or kill a regular retrieval team.

"Yes," was all she said.

"As bad as this may sound, you are not exactly the type of target they go for. Why was Markov so desperate to get you that he sends them?" Josiah pondered out loud, pacing in the tiny area he had.

"He's afraid of Ching," she answered.

Josiah stopped.

It was a rather open secret around Templar that Josiah's daughter was a chem runner. Given that she only helped the poor, she in no way cut in on Markov's for-profit medicine and vaccine scam, he was still without reason.

"Why her? Half of Templar knows what kind of business she runs. She was in no real danger. Half our town would be implicated if she was exposed."

"I did not understand it at first, but I do believe there is more to this RD mutation than even you know. But this is all Markov's ball of yarn. He knows Ching is special. Perhaps she has abilities he fears, even if she does not know she has them," Jia answered. She'd spent a lot of time thinking about what Josiah had said in his explanation.

Her specialty had been genetics; specifically, how to manipulate and turn genes on and off. Some had called it eugenics and more than once her clinic had been firebombed. It was truly hard to make someone see how simple it would be to turn off cancer, to remove blindness, to stop people from living limited lives, always in pain. It was all a matter of connections.

"Not that we have the facilities here, but I would love to get a look at your blood, as well as the girl's. April, Asha and I; we are different than the other RD women aren't we.

"Yes, you have multiple markers. Just like me," he replied watching her. She was a brilliant woman. He was a lucky punk who happened to know how to scrap and had a knack for getting people to believe his bullshit. His worth lied in one or two strange letters among his DNA chain. She on the other hand, was a genius. Had it not been for the blasts, even with the trials, he would never had been able to get someone like her to look at him.

But the blasts had put him in his element. He was the rugged hero; armed, prepared, and calm. He'd been able to sweep in and rescue her and a few others, giving him the edge to gain her attention.

Just then, Asha approached the mast.

"How goes counseling? It's position change time, but if you need longer, just let me know," she said with a smirk.

"She has not killed me yet, so I think it's going okay," Josiah shouted down, flashing his dimples.

Jia rolled her eyes.

"Give me one more rotation up here. I might still kill him," she replied with a wink that brought a chuckle from Asha.

"I'm only going to ask you this once, and it's never going to come up again," she said, folding her arms over her chest.

"Do you really believe the lost continent is there or is this just another one of the famous Josiah Carter wild goose chases?" she said, staring into his eyes.

"I can't say for certain that it's real, as I've never been there before. But I can tell you this: A good, smart man was willing to go through that pass with small children for the chance that it is. That kinda conviction says something," he said with s a shrug.

"Madness is often full of conviction," she said with a sigh.

"I just hope, be it madness or conviction, that we are not headed towards death," she said, turning her back to look out over the landscape below. She had lived almost exclusively in Velletri since the blasts with a couple of months spent at the science center in Pendergrass. The place where she had been born would be part of Sadovka now, though she doubted it looked anything like her memories.

But this was not a side she traveled too often, most of the Now Times life was within a radius of the border wall. With the Imperium leaders being the lifeline for supplies, medicine, and protection, it seemed in the best interest of the citizens to stay close to the wall. In Before Times most of this would have been India, she guessed, or perhaps even Africa. It was hard to tell. Radiation, location, and man's greed had forever changed the world. Entire biomes and ecosystems had been obliterated in the blink of an eye.

Continents with millions of people sank as terror reigned from above. She shook her head. So many natural wonders she had wanted to see. But there was always time, of course. Just get through this heavy week at work, or through the next test. Then she would relax, travel. She remembered telling herself this so many times. But as so many learned, time is not guaranteed. A single act of evil had scarred Gaia; her celestial beauty and complex circle of life forever disrupted.

There had been some talk in the early days that much of the western United States remained unchanged; that the Grand Canyon still existed, though many of the pacific northwest volcanoes had taken the opportunity to blow their tops.

For those brave enough to risk the heat, the volcanic vents were an incredible source of steam. Gregor had offered to send his technicians from the Maw to help them pipe the vents, for a moderate fee of half the output of course. Pendergrass had declined. Gregor graciously backed off and quietly began lightening the steam canisters headed to Pendergrass.

Many feared a war when the scandal came to light. Shorting people what they paid for went over no better in Now Times than it had in the Before. However, Harcourt was not stupid. For every pound a steam cylinder came in light, he sent the same amount less of food.

Back room politicking went on and everything was settled quietly. Sadovka returned to regular deliveries and Pendergrass did the same.

"I'm going to head down and rest for a bit before Abe and I have to be presentable Templar employees in need of rations," he said, the last part nearly swallowed by a yawn.

"Hey, Jia . . . I'm sorry, I do love you, I never meant to hurt you," he said, swinging his leg over.

"I love you too," she said, kissing his cheek softly.
Chapter 14

Markov dozed heavily in the overstuffed recliner he had drug over to be in front of the door. His gun lay across his ample belly that rose and fell with each accompanying saw blade snore. Not that it would have done him any good. If I really wanted to kill you, you slovenly buffoon, I'd just fill the car with gas and dump your carcass out the side for the scavengers, Krieger thought as he slid the door closed behind him. He had knocked several times, even called out the man's name; but despite his attempt to look alert and prepared, he was far from it.

"Herr Markov," Krieger said softly as to not startle him, but hopefully loud enough to rouse him.

He was rewarded only with a snort and half mumble before the droning snoring once again picked up.

"You have got to be kidding me," he said, rolling his eyes.

Moving forward at a none too slow pace, he took the gun from the man's reach before repeating in the loudest not yelling voice he could muster.

"HERR MARKOV," he said, a satisfied smile creeping to his lips as the man's doughy hands fumbled for his gun. His beady eyes filled with confusion.

"So sorry to disturb you. I tried knocking, you see. But I had no desire to get shot, so I removed your gun before waking you," Krieger said, handing him the weapon back.

"Must have been more tired than I realized," Markov replied, sliding the gun back into his holster.

"We there already?" he asked, glancing out the window to note the train had stopped.

"No. It seems whoever took your serum cut their finger and left behind a bloody fingerprint. The print is far too smudged to be used, but I think we can extract DNA from the sample. I have stopped the train to await on the messenger from Gregor," he explained, backing up towards the door.

"Excellent," if we know who, we might be able to figure out where they are going," Markov said, the last of the sleeping fog fleeing his mind.

"If they are on file. If it was one of the unwanted, then we will not get a match," Krieger said with a shrug, his hand on the doorknob.

"Let us hope we get lucky then," Markov replied, pausing for a moment as the unseen connection flashed in the front of his mind only to dash away before he could snatch it.

******************************************************************************

The ship landed, flawlessly. Even as Sybil slumped over the controls in pain, she set her down just as the sun was rising behind two of the largest mountains she had ever seen. At this point all Josiah had said was true. They were near the pass, there were two very large peaks, and a Templar base lived in its shadow.

Everyone assembled on the main deck. Mary, Constantine, and Ching had been decked out in all black, they were the borrowing team. Abe and Josiah looked like rugged Templar employees who'd walked quite a while.

Sybil tried to focus on the sounds coming from Abe's mouth, he was clearly speaking but her brain was too deep into its pain to waste processing power on understanding him.

She moved a bit closer, hoping to hear better. All she heard was a brief shout from Violet as the world around her went dark.

Violet looked up just in time to see Sybil's eyes roll up in her head as her body lost the ability to support itself.

She shouted and rushed forward, but Ching was closer. She grabbed Sybil on her way down, a spark of blue electric fire arching between the two women before jumping to Violet who had made it to her Captain's side.

"Ouch!" she said, rubbing the spot on her hand where the electricity had zapped her.

"I'm uh, sorry?" Ching said, laying Sybil gently on the deck, quickly attaining her vitals.

"She's okay, she turned down the pain drops when she woke up and it looks like the pain took its revenge. Can someone carry her back to the cabin? I'll dose her before we go," she said, digging around in the basket she had emptied all her pockets into.

"I still have two pain patches left; I'll be right back for the rest of the briefing," she said as Mardrich gently swept the young woman up in his arms. Even unconscious, she cringed at being jostled.

The rest of the group watched them go, Violet angrily brushing away the tears.

"She is one hell of a Captain," Josiah said, noting his own determination and stubbornness in her.

"One of a kind." Violet said with a brief glance at Lucy. As the camaraderie had grown among the group, Lucy had stayed on the fringe. She had not been overly gregarious and seemed to prefer the company of Kyros to most.

Violet figured she was still mourning her love. Even though it was outlawed in Sadovka, the other two Imperiums had been more welcoming to those of other orientations. April had told them in the Before Times they had identified as the LGBTQIA community, living and working together to protect each other from bigots.

So many things had changed since the blasts. Race was no longer a major motivating factor for hate. They had always been one people; it just took near annihilation for them to see that. Sadovka was the only one who held to what Gregor called the "natural order," which, to him, meant man with woman and that was it. He also allowed the men of his Imperium to beat their wives, only if it was with their fists. All to preserve the way things should have been. Or at least, that was the excuse he gave when executing people who he found guilty of abhorrent behavior.

So, Lucy had been in one of the safest places in all the Now Times for most people, but truly the most dangerous place in the world for her.

A few minutes later Ching returned, her brows furrowed.

"She has a fever. I don't have time to brew the antibiotics, so here's to hoping Templar is well stocked," she said, her eyes meeting Josiah's.

"They should be. This is a pretty remote post; I'll feign a toothache and see what I can grab," Josiah said.

"Okay, the three of you should head east along the fence and follow it until it connects with the ridge. You should be able to jump into the yard if you climb high enough. The steam canisters should be in the second to last building on the right. Take what you can, lob them over the fence, and we will pick them up along with anything else you can liberate," he said.

"I'm going to try to give you an hour, but it's really going to depend on who is at the station. Most of these guys are out here for months at a time, so it's not usually hard to get them to talk, they like news," Josiah said.

The sun peeked through the mountains, giving the trees near them a warm, golden glow. The air here was noticeably colder, and Ching was thankful for the ninja outfit as it kept her warm. Mary shivered slightly.

"This is the farthest I have ever been from Sadovka," she said softly.

"While I love Velletri and its trees, is it always so cold?" she said, rubbing her arms.

Ching shook her head as they headed down gangway. They had about a mile to walk together before splitting to do their tasks.

"No, my part of Velletri, what used to be mostly Italy, a little of Greece, and some say even Sicily, is much warmer." Ching said, glancing at Constantine who nodded.

"We used to call that a 'Mediterranean climate'," Abe said with his own shiver.

Most of the new world was warm, and in places like Sadovka, uncomfortably so. The Maw's ever flowing steam kept it humid and miserable. Pendergrass had milder seasons but was known for the wicked winds that ripped across the fertile planes from the edge.

Violet had seen the edge of Pendergrass once. It was not nearly as domineering as the two mountains or the impenetrable ridge that Velletri had. It was a soft white desert; bland, safe, easy to cross. However, they knew better than to try. Several radiated skeletons and corpses scattering the dunes gave all the warning they needed.

Josiah raised a hand to Jia, who stood beside Asha. She returned it while Asha just watched him with amusement.

It was not long before the five of them had disappeared from the view of the ship. Jia stood there a moment longer, sending her love to protect those who loved her.

Conversation among the away team was sparse, eyes scanned the still forest for any sign of what may be a trap or an ambush. All nature would give them was a family of opossums who watched them go by with minimal interest.

"Do you smell that?" Ching said, her nostrils flaring. They had nearly cleared the woods and were about to go their separate ways when a sharp, familiar tang hit Ching's senses.

Everyone stopped, inhaling deeply.

"Kinda?" Josiah said, glancing at her.

"It's blood," Constantine said.

"And lots of it," Ching said, her nose crinkling as the copper smell invaded her senses.

Abe nodded.

"New plan. You three stay here, and let us find out what's going on," Abe said, not waiting for a reply.

"New plan," Josiah said with a nod, following Abe into the soft morning sun.

Time passed slowly. Ching paced. They had been gone mere minutes, but it felt like hours. The nervous energy built up in her body. She'd been on high alert for days now, her muscles aching with it.

"Jesus," was all that was said, loudly, from wherever inside they were.

"New plan," Ching said, charging the way the other two had gone.

Mary looked at Constantine, who shrugged and set off after her.

The front wire gate hung limp; pieces of torn fence littered the ground. The smell was explained by the large pools of blood coagulating in the green grass.

"Jesus," Ching echoed. There had been a fight here; a savage brutal fight. She noted a dismembered hand laying just to the side of the gate switch. They had been attempting to lock down the compound when it, whatever it was, had happened.

Josiah exited the first building, pausing to vomit as Abe exited, his face nearly white.

"Dad?" Ching said. Rushing over, she did a visual on him. He had some blood on his cheek and hand, but it was clearly not his own.

"Don't go in there. I mean it. If something must come from that building, Abe or I will get it," he said, his words stern.

Ching nodded; Josiah had never been one to shield her from the harder things in life. He had believed if she was to make it in the Now Times, then she must be tough, resilient, and hard to rattle. If he was telling her no, there was a damn good reason.

"I don't think anyone here is still among the living. We should check all six buildings just to make sure," Abe said, taking slow deep breaths. It looked like he might still pass out.

"What could have done such a thing?" Mary asked, her eyes roving over the bloody tracks and strewn debris about them.

"Had to be an animal," Josiah said, pausing to lose the rest of his breakfast.

"What kind of animal could do this?" Constantine asked.

"Son, I spend most of my time avoiding the animals of the Now Time. I can't even imagine . . ." Josiah said, wiping the last of the vomit from his lips.

"Mardrich would know," Mary said softly.

Abe nodded.

"Do you feel comfortable going back to get him? There is nothing we can do for these men now, but if something that can do this is wandering Velletri, someone should know,' Abe said, sinking to sit on the ground, carefully avoiding the arterial spray of blood which coated most of the area.

"I am," Mary said and was gone.

"Well, I don't think we are in as much of a hurry now, at least," Ching said, keeping her eyes trained on her father's face. He may have had several terrible traits, but he was her father and she loved him.

"I'm going to take the Shadow and check the steam tank shed. Here's to hoping it's full and clear," Abe said, nodding to Constantine as they picked their way through the blood-soaked yard.

"You okay kid?" he asked once they were out of ear shot.

Constantine nodded. He had not lived a sheltered life, following Ching on every adventure she would have him on. He was no stranger to violence, but the sheer amount of this seemingly senseless carnage would be a lot for the hardest battle-scared vet.

"What the hell happened here, Abe?" he asked, slowing as they approached the closed door. The padlock was fixed to the door with a thick, clanking chain.

"I don't know. I have to agree it was some sort of animal, and out here in the wilds it could have been anything, an irradiated bear perhaps," he said while picking the lock easily.

He'd made sure there were very few locks he could not pick early in his career; and truth be told, Templar's were some of the easiest

Sliding his knife from his hand, he reached around the corner gingerly, pleased to find that the steam lantern hung exactly where he expected it to br. Markov was consistent.

Shaking it to life, he waited as the low light grew, expanding his vision to cover the front half of the room. Dust coated every cylinder. It looked as if no one had come in here in a long time. The room was full, floor to ceiling with full steam canisters. More than enough, he hoped, to get them to the lost continent.

Constantine stood on his tiptoes to see over Abe's shoulder.

"It doesn't look like they have been in here in a really long time, that's like a year's worth for a station this size," Abe said thoughtfully.

"Then how have they been running the place?" Constantine asked.

"I don't know kid," he replied.

"Those guys have been dead at most a couple of hours, some of the blood is still fresh," he said, glancing nervously around.

This was not a job that had overly concerned him at first. Raiding Templar storage houses was something he and Ching did regularly. Ching could make almost any medicine if given the formula. The problem always laid in the components. It was hard to find the raw stuff, although Templar seemed to have a never-ending supply of it. However, things had changed, and uneasiness crept up, settling itself on his shoulders like a cold, wet blanket.

"ABRAHAM!" Ching bellowed from around the first building.

Abe dropped the lamp and ran. Constantine caught it and set it down quickly before following on his heels.

Mardrich and Mary stood to the side examining tracks, Josiah was fumbling with his steam gun.

"I saw him, the one who did it," Ching said, her words coming out in a rush. He ran that way, covered in blood, snarling, towards the communications building. Augmented, not a wheeler, but really odd looking," she said, shaken.

"How do you know he did this?" Abe asked, pulling his boot knife out to join his other.

"Because these bite marks belong to a human," Mardrich said, holding up a severed arm he had discovered in a clump of grass.

"Gorram," Abe said softly.

"What the hell is an augmented human doing out here? Why would he attack these men? Why did he eat them?" Abe said, his eyes trained on the communications building. The door hung open, but the day's brightening rays gave no hint as to what lay inside the shadowed doorstep.

"Radiation," Mary said, causing everyone to turn to look at her.

"We had a man once; he was very good at finding mushrooms. He went out into the forest and was gone for days, we assumed he'd been killed. Nearly a week later, he showed up in camp, covered in lesions, and blood. He was mad, attacking anyone who came near. He ripped the arm off a young child before they snapped his neck," she explained, looking anywhere but at the limb Mardrich was still holding.

"Templar would not build a base on top of radiation. Nor, would they have an augmented regular soldier," Josiah scoffed.

"Perhaps not, but that does not mean they did not find some. I think I have idea as to what went on here." Abe said.

"The steam shed is full, padlocked, and covered in dust. It's been at least six months since anyone went in there," he continued.

"What if they found a radioactive power source, something better than steam that did not run out, or leak from a faulty canister only to leave you in the cold," he pondered.

"I know in the early days, the Wheelers used a huge irradiated rock to fuel their surgeries," Ching said, remembering how they'd found them all dead inside the Colosseum, more blood spilled but without the crowd to gawk and cheer.

Abe nodded.

"So, what you are saying, is the lone guy in there, is not the survivor of some wild animal attack, but the perpetrator of all of this. He's augmented and a Templar employee?" Josiah said, gesturing around them.

"I believe so. He could have been a retriever," Abe replied.

Josiah's expression turned grim; he truly hated the retrievers.

"As such I don't think reasoning with him will be much of an option. I do believe we have entered the shoot first portion of this mission," Josiah said, pulling his steam revolver. He only had six shots and no more ammo on him. He hoped six was enough.

They moved quietly; eyes peeled in all directions for anything.

"I'm going to try to draw him out, give you a clean shot," Abe said softly.

Josiah nodded taking aim.

Abe turned to the doorway. Taking in a deep breath, he opened his mouth to speak. All that came out was a stunned grunt as the naked, gore-covered man launched himself from the dark doorway, tackling Abe with such strength that they both landed a few feet away with a thud. His entire right arm was metal; gears and cogs whirling as they fueled his superhuman grasp.

For a moment, everyone was frozen. Abe's yelp of pain waking them, they grabbed the man, trying to pry him from Abe's body and keep him from eating Abe's face, which he seemed very intent on doing.

It took four of them to remove him, Mardrich pinned him to the ground as the others stood on his limbs, as he was still very intent on ripping them to shreds.

Josiah looked down into his face. His features were twisted into a dark and deep hatred, his teeth chomped at the air, desperate to consume whatever he could catch.

"Shoot him," Ching said softly.

Josiah nodded but did not pull the trigger. Aside from the face that he was covered in the blood and smeared internal organs of those he had worked with, he was still a man. Killing had never been Josiah's strong suit. He was a retriever, which should have made it easier for him; but still, he hesitated.

Mardrich looked up at him.

"I understand lad, I do . . . but, he cannot be saved. Once he leaves here, there is a chance he will make it to the next town or farther. Shoot him," he said.

Josiah nodded, closing his eyes as he pulled the trigger. The one thing steam guns had on old fashioned black powder was silence. The wooden slug exploded from the barrel with a soft whoosh. Perfect aim, point-blank head shot. After what seemed too long a time, his body stopped convulsing and he lay still.

A large gust of wind hit them, bringing with it the promise of much worse weather.

"Of course, it's going to storm now," Josiah said, watching the deep gray clouds racing toward them from the pass.

"Can we make it back to the ship?" Ching asked, her eyes glued to the dead man.

"Yes, if we run; but not with any of the stuff we need," Josiah said, his shoulders slumping. Why was nothing ever easy?

"I am the fastest. Load me up with the cold weather stuff for them. I'll take it back, update them, and return when the storm settles," Constantine said.

The wind taking his thought of escape as a challenge, it gusted harder, causing the damaged gate to groan eerily in protest.

"I'm going to guess the crew building should have most of what we need," Abe said, turning away from the corpse.

Following him across the yard, the light dimmed even further, giving everything a washed out feeling. Abe opened the door, and taking Josiah's offered head lamp, he shone it inside. It was spotless, perfect. Not so much as a shoe out of regulations.

"Well, that's odd," Abe said.

"Right? We were never this organized," Josiah said with a chuckle.

"Either their commanding officer is a complete regulations jockey or something weird is going on here," Abe replied.

Ching snorted, "The naked guy who ate his compatriots didn't strike you as weird?"

Josiah held back a chuckle.

He grinned at her, "Kiddo, where I come from, neat and tidy is far less expected than cannibalism," he replied.

"Where do you come from?" Mary asked in awe.

"Detroit," he said, which earned a knowing nod from Josiah and a snort from Mardrich.

"I've seen radiation patients act like our friend out there. I expected to find more carnage in here, or at least the signs of struggle, or hell . . . even dust like was on the steam canisters. But, not perfect.

They all looked inside again, sixteen beds were lined up, eight on each wall with a couple of card tables in the aisle that separated them.

"Well, whatever got to those guys was here in the base. I suggest we get everything we need, light the remainder on fire and make for the pass," Josiah said with a glance over his shoulder. The whole place felt odd. The air was thick, but none of the sensations he felt were quantifiable or explainable, so he just stayed quiet.

"Constantine, when you get to the ship see if Violet is up to bringing it closer, there is a lot we can take from here that will help us. No sense in lugging it back and forth when there is no one here to care about an airship," Abe said heading further into the room. While a grisly and unfortunate find, this had been, in the long run, a stroke of luck.

He glanced at Josiah; he didn't think it was overly lucky for those poor men in pieces, but Josiah's luck only seemed to work in his favor.

Shaking off the entombed feeling, he pushed ahead, carefully checking for any hidden enemies. This base could obviously support sixteen men, there was no way of knowing if it had been fully staffed when shit went south, and he was not going back into that building to try to piece together bodies for a head count.

Heading to the wardrobe, he found eleven winter jackets hanging neatly on the hooks. Some showed wear, which Abe found oddly comforting. Templar was big on one size fits all for most gear, so they were all large and puffy, which would suit them just fine.

Gathering them up in his arms, he returned to see that Josiah had raided the long-johns box.

"I have about nine complete sets," he said, eyeing Abe's coat haul.

"Eleven coats," Abe replied.

The wind howled long and loud, reminding Mardrich of a ravenous animal.

"I hope you are as fast as you think you are, kid," Josiah said, pulling a jacket on.

"I am. Plus, with just clothing, it will be nothing," Constantine said with a grin.

"But you have to take meds back for the Captain," Ching said.

"She's dangerously close to infection if she has not already passed that. If I must wait to clean her burn even longer, we should booster her, might be able to get some steroids, too." Ching said, looking around the barracks for a med kit.

"The good stuff is going to be in the main command building. That's where they ride out the storms," Josiah said.

"How many times you been here, boss?" Abe asked.

"Too many," he said, his expression dark.

Many eyebrows raised but no one questioned him further.

"Let's move," Josiah said, heading towards the largest building in the compound. It held the communications setup as well as all the munitions.

Ching visibly shivered as Abe handed her a coat.

None of the young ones had ever experienced winter. That was one thing Now Times did not feel much of. Pendergrass had a season like autumn, but no snow fell anywhere but near the pass now. It was an uninhabited place for a few reasons; however, the cold was among the largest.

Those who had lived in the Before Times knew of winter. Abe remembered sledding on an old tire in a vacant lot near his home. Abe found himself hurrying his steps. He may have had experience with it, but that did not mean he liked it.

Abe went in first, Josiah right beside him, gun drawn.

"Jesus," Abe said again. While the barracks may have been a poster for excellent behavior, the main buildings looked like the remnants of a frat party. Garbage and papers were strewn everywhere, broken glass glittered in the head lamp's light.

"Please tell me there are not more bodies in here," Ching said from behind him.

"So far none of that, but someone had a hell of a temper tantrum," Abe replied, flicking the switch to bring the three unbroken lights to life.

Once the lights were warmed enough to chase the shadows from all corners of the room, Abe moved aside, letting the other's come in after an admonishment to watch their steps.

"Kit should be back here in the cupboard with the guns," Abe said, walking gingerly among the broken glass and scatted lives of the men who had called this home.

He was pleased to find the cabinet intact, but not locked. Opening it, he frowned.

"Big med kit is here. Should have most of what you need, Ching. This place is far too far from Templar, for access to the hospital," he said.

Then, mainly to Josiah, "All the guns are gone, even the large ones. Every stake, every steam cartridge. Every bullet," he added.

"Those men did not die from gunshots," Josiah said, joining him.

Abe shook his head.

"What the hell happened here?" he asked no one in particular.

"You can work on that during the storm. If I'm going, I need to go soon," Constantine said, watching in amazement as snowflakes drifted down outside the door.

Everyone mobilized. Mary tied the jackets and long johns into a bundle to make them easier to carry. Ching surveyed the med kit; this was an amazing find. It was loaded with meds, pain killers, vaccines, even sterile gauze and a suture kit.

Choosing with a practiced eye, she loaded two vials and a syringe into the pockets of the jacket Constantine was wallowing in. He looked like a kid playing dress up.

"Shoot her with both; one in the hip, the other in her good arm. Place some of the linen bandages from my kit on it. I will do the rest once she is here," Ching said, hugging her brother tightly.

"Be careful Shadow, I made Ant-man a promise I don't intend to break," she said with a pang of regret that she may never see any of her old friends again. They were wanted. More now than they had ever been. Perhaps not public criminals, but the most powerful men in all the Now Times, were very upset with them, which in many ways was worse.

He nodded, tears flooding his eyes. He saluted the remainder of the crew before bolting out into the howling wind. The sun's bright rays hidden by the thick blanket of snow clouds that hung over him.

Ching watched him as far as she could before pulling the door closed behind her. The others were carefully sweeping aside glass and righting chairs.

"Even if I wanted to call for help for these poor bastards, the telegraph lines have been . . . chewed through?" Josiah said, examining the frayed black cables that ran down the wall and into a receiver that had been on the receiving end of a fire ax.

Ching and Mary changed into long johns, allowing their puffy coats to wait until they had to brave the outside.

"I'm going to be super honest here, and I'm not discounting anything anyone here has seen. But I've treated hundreds of people with radiation sickness. It happens a lot in the Nulls, since they are pushed out into the less than safe areas. I've seen a few who were a little hyper or upset, but in all of those people, I've never seen anything like this," Ching said, settling into a mostly intact desk chair.

The others looked at her. She was likely correct. In the days after the blasts, Josiah and Abe had worked recon, taking care of survivors, getting them to camps. There had been a few who had acted high, but none like Mary's comrade who had tried to eat people.

"I mean, I don't doubt at all that radiation is the catalyst, but there is something about the people that changes the way they react," she added, looking at her boots as everyone's eyes were on her.

"From what I saw inside the mess hall, I may have to agree. Some were attacked while eating; whatever it was that scrambled the one guy we found, I don't think it got them all," Abe said thoughtfully.

"Mutation? Intolerance? Augmentation sickness? Who knows?" Josiah said, looking uncomfortable at the idea that one man could be responsible for the death and dismemberment of an entire base worth of personal.

"I should take some of his blood . . . In case I ever get back to my lab," Ching said thoughtfully.

The wind howled and shrieked, making the broken gate dance in the wind like a drunken marionette.

"After the storm," she added, hugging herself.

The room had started to warm, the lights also being connected to the steam boiler.

"I remember storms like this," Abe said, glancing out the small window.

"The homeless died in Michigan in storms like this," he added, his voice and eyes looking out over a time far before Ching had been born.

"Are things better now?" Ching asked.

Abe paused. Sure, he had thought about the differences in the two times. His mind was divided into Before and Now. He'd found early on that thinking and longing for things that would likely never come to be again, was a quick way to the self-checkout door.

"Things were different. I don't know about better, as what we have been led to believe we are. Was it easier? For most, though many lived in the poverty you see in your Velletri slums, before the blasts. I see a lot less hate for stupid reasons. People now just want to survive, and the color of someone else's skin is far less important than it used to be," he said with a shrug.

"Sadovka has the most hate. Gregor holds to old ideas; natural law and all." Mary said quietly. She easily faded into the background and Josiah had to constantly remind himself that she existed for head count.

"Gregor is a piece of work to be certain, but I'll be honest, I'd rather him than that brother of his. Man is entirely off his rocker," Abe added.

"He's the one that gave our Captain the scar, yes?" Ching asked. She'd heard the heroic tales of the young Captain Hook from many of those she helped. They were both champions of the unwanted.

"Yup, I truly thought I had lost her when I found out she had been captured. But that man had no idea what he had. He captured her through sheer luck, but her escape was all skill," Abe spoke, the pride in his voice jabbing at Josiah a bit.

They were all his daughters. These talented, incredible women were half of him; yet, they were not his. If anything, Lucy and Sybil were Abe's children. He had disappeared from duty more than once, taking awful assignments in Sadovka and Pendergrass so that he could check on the girls. He had been the one chasing Heaven after word of Sybil's capture had come across the Templar channel. Even though he never directly interacted with Lucy he had always watched, checked, cared. An unfamiliar feeling crept into his belly. It was guilt. Josiah had long ago decided to live his life in the moment, and whatever happened, happened. Guilt and regret got you killed. Yet, he was filled with both.

"It's a wicked scar," Ching said, awe in her voice.

"She is a hero among our people," Mary added quietly.

"Imagine if I had known her. I could have sent meds all over the Imperiums," Ching said with a brief glance at Josiah who had decided to study his shoes.

The wind snapped. A loud crack of thunder caused Ching to duck. Abe grinned. For all her street smarts and ability, she knew less of the world than she thought she did.

"Storms are freaky," she said, regaining her composure.

"That they are, and I truly hope that this is the last one we have to go through," Josiah said.

The wind gave a laughing howl to dampen his spirit.

Chapter 15

Krieger stood in the receiving bay, the messenger was over an hour late and had it not been an acolyte, he would have just tossed him into the holding cell for his transgressions. He wanted to pace, but it would not do to have Markov see him annoyed. The Menglan had a practiced and polished public demeanor. While his rages were not few or far between, those who witnessed them never lived to talk about it.

So, he stood ram straight, his hands folded behind him, his expression neutral as he looked out at the Sadovkan countryside. It truly was the ugliest Imperium. But power was often ugly. So, they didn't have lush forests or monuments of a lost world, but they had steam. Sadovka put more out in an hour than Pendergrass could do in a week, if they were able to access the vents at all. Without the raw power of Sadovka, the rest were lost. He had hoped that Gregor would control all of it; and, he did, just not on paper. Sure, Harcourt controlled a large amount of the food supply, but he could not harvest or move those crops without the steam sold to him.

He strained his ears for the sound of anyone approaching. He had very little involvement with the Acolytes and their nonsense, so he had no idea if they even drove Jeeps. If the idiot was coming by horse that would explain why he had not yet arrived.

"Five more minutes, and I'm sending someone along the road to find him," he mumbled to himself, his eyes narrowing.

It was a full fifteen minutes before Krieger sent for one of his riggers. He found it useful to keep some of the more physically dominate, lobotomized patients as riggers. They were good at subduing patients and following directions with no complaint and were generally competent.

A lumbering creature he had taken to calling Adam, as he had been one of the first, appeared through the door, his eyes as vacant as store windows in that small quiet town that was dying out because of the big cities. A bit of drool slid down, his chin leaving a snail slime trail.

"Adam, go to the road. Look for the man in red. Bring him here quickly," he said, wondering if that would be enough or too much instruction for the creature who had to be talked through his own bathroom needs.

He looked out into the thick, black night. The trees were stronger closer to the tracks. Perhaps their roots had leached a bit of the steel rails they had so long looked over. Or it was just plain luck, but many of the railways boasted of the lushest trees in any of the Imperiums.

His eyes looked back to Adam, a man who if he had left just a touch more of his frontal lobe, would be strangling him to death for his transgressions. Instead, he nodded, picking up a long black baton, his hands gripping it instead of Krieger's neck, and trundled out into the underbrush, his steps loud and unwieldy.

The last remnants of his earlier injection lingered in his haze touched thoughts. Perhaps the man had simply become lost. I mean, it is so terribly hard to simply stay on the damn road, he thought, chasing away the haze with the sharp edge of his displeasure.

Time crept by, his aggravation a glowing ember now, inching closer to anger, it was just like Gregor to throw off his entire schedule with something he decided that might be important. Why did it matter who the thief was? The odds were incredibly high that it was some ghost, someone whose blood was not even going to be registered anywhere. He could have been nearly to Velletri at this point, headed towards a solution that was far more likely to lead them to their prize then the off chance that this thief had been picked up before.

Markov joined him on the back deck, which only served to increase his anger. His lips a thin white line, his hands grasping each other with such strength that he knew his knuckles would ache later.

"Do you think we should go look for the messenger?" Markov requested, his bulbous form bobbing in the darkness like a bloated corpse in a mire. Krieger's nostrils flared as he faced away from the man whose gluttonous figure disgusted him. He had let himself go, grown fat on the spoils of his war, and it was less than likely that Markov could make the hump up the dark, less-than-well-kept Sadovkan road.

"I have already sent Adam to look for the lad on the road. If we have not seen him by the time the moon hits midpoint, you can send your goons," he said, his icy tone giving away none of the lava that bubbled inside him.

Markov nodded, shivering slightly. Even for Sadovka the night was cool.

"So . . . I heard something about what you do here," Markov said.

Krieger had to stow his chuckle. For a commander of legions, his nervous tone sounded a lot like a kid trying to buy his first girlie book. Once he was sure his face was stone, he turned to the other man. The wash of the bright white steam lights gave him a cadaverous complexion.

"Is that so?" he replied.

"Yeah, some of the men talk about it, especially the retrievers. Well, the ones that can anyway," he said with a guffawing laugh that rebounded out into the silent evening.

"Ah yes, I will admit they are a very useful group when they bring me passengers. They are always well subdued and ready," he said, giving the man a shred of praise, though he had little doubt that the efficiency of that team had anything to do with Markov.

"I know a fair bit about science myself," Markov said.

It took everything in Krieger not to laugh. Theory perhaps, a lot of 'men of science' were that. They liked the idea, the possibilities. But when it came to slicing the surface, digging into the sinew that lay between knowledge and supposition, men of his kind would shy away. Now, when it came time to receive awards or give speeches, men of theory would stand tall and shake clean hands with men whose knowledge of science came solely from popular mechanic magazines.

"Do you?" he said, keeping his tone even, he had to spend an unknown amount of time with the man, and decorum was expected.

"Mostly genetics, so lots of reading. Not so much in the way of field work," he said with a pointed glance at the sleek, silent train behind them.

"Ah yes, given your and Gregor's plans, I can see how a working knowledge of genetics would be required," he said, keeping his tone polite. He would answer the man's drivel, but he would not invite it.

"But I hear you do a lot of uh . . . field work here," he said, his tone leading.

Krieger stared out into the woods a long moment, hoping that Adam would thunder through the trees, a lost Acolyte tossed over his shoulder, to save him from more small talk. But as the silence at the end of his statement stretched out begging a reply, it was clear that no reprieve would be granted.

"Yes, Herr Markov, Heaven is a fully stocked rolling laboratory, complete with surgical suites and holding facilities," he said, watching a gleam come to the man's rather dull eyes.

"I study radiation, and its effects on the human body, especially on the newest born, since the blasts. A lot of the aqueduct infrastructure has dug up hotbeds of radiation. Some of it affects people directly, although that usually only succeeds in making them sick and easily dead. Not of much use . . . My interest lies much more in the indirect radiation, things that are filtered through food or water before being ingested. The babies of the last two years have held rather interesting modifications that came from fallout," he said, allowing himself a bit of waxing, it was far better than listening to Markov's stumbling attempts to get him to talk about the gooey stuff.

That's really what he was after, all of them were. The men of bluster and position, with their overinflated, important titles to compensate for tiny penises. They liked the gooey parts; the blood, the guts, the screams. But of course, always in theory, must keep those hands clean for schmoozing.

"Babies?" Markov said, his voice suddenly a bit higher. "What do you do with them? You know . . . after. Do the mother's consent?" he asked, his doughy hands wiping absently against his pants as if soiled.

Krieger could not control it this time. It was he who chuckled, the sound as brittle as the last leaf of autumn.

"Her Markov, Heaven is a one-way ride, for all of my subjects," he smiled, true amusement touching his eyes as Markov gagged, coughing to hide his discomfort.

Looking up, he was relieved to see the moon nearing the mid-point. It gave him an excuse to flee this platform and get his men. While he may have had a skewed view on himself and Gregor as saviors instead of villains, there was no doubt that Krieger was an actual monster.

"I'm going to go ahead and get my men; I don't think your fella is coming back," he said, walking swiftly away, his thudding steps evidence to his hurry.

Krieger smiled; his anger faded. Even his annoyance at the still missing courier could not deflate the joy he felt from weeding out the weak. Markov, mastermind or not, was weak.

He walked back towards the door, intending to wait for the results of the away party in his favorite chair, as a chilling wail rose up from the woods. Shrill, high-pitched, nearly inhuman terror filled the night causing all the birds to take flight in fear.

Before Krieger could turn, Markov's men were rushing out towards the direction of the sound. Three men, all in black, carrying sleek steam weapons, sped into the darkness as the wail began to fade into a cry before tapering off all together. Markov joined Krieger once more.

Both men froze, watching after the men, even though they could no longer make them out from the darkness.

"How far are we from the wall?" Markov asked, his eyes wide.

"Twenty miles, give or take, at least ten from the next urban grouping. Must be a wild animal," he said, clasping his hands together to avoid their trembling.

"Well, no animal can stand up to my men," Markov said, relief creeping into his voice. Markov had long ago given up riding rough, seeking adventure, being an 'on the ground' man. The farthest he walked on purpose was to the third-tier kitchen because the girl there made coffee better than the other two. The idea of having to fight made his insides slide around like undercooked eggs in his gut.

Krieger nodded, his eyes narrowing as he looked out into the night. He has been ambushed before. Usually by the family or friends of a guest of his hospitality. It often netted him extra passengers. No one had ever escaped Heaven. Allowing his mind to gloss over the woman pirate, that was simply a pause in his experiment. He had not failed; he would have her eyes.

But as of this moment, the only guests aboard his train was Markov and his men, and there was no one out there who would be coming to save them. Time hissed past them, the night's usual noises silenced, allowing only their uneven breaths to fill the space.

They waited for, well, for anything . . . for the death throes of the animal, shouts from the men, even that unearthly wail would be better than the dampening silence. It was driving Markov mad. His dry tongue darted out, rubbing against his lips with the resulting sound of sandpaper.

"Do we think we should?" he said, gesturing to the direction the men had gone.

"Are you out of your mind? I don't 'go' out there, you imbecilic . . ." he said, the rest of his insult cut off by an explosion from the darkened bushes. A man erupted from the woods, half running, half stumbling his way towards the train.

His sleek black uniform was shredded, blood matted his fair hair to his forehead as he held what was left of his arm to his body.

"He stumbled on loose gravel by the tracks, landing at Markov's feet, blood bubbling from between his battered lips.

"They had . . . bear," he said, his eyes looking wildly towards the sky.

"Who had a bear? Where is the rest of your squad, the acolyte, my Adam?" Krieger shrieked at the man, his accent turning his questions into a barrage of machinegun fire.

"Dead, dead . . . everyone is dead, they had a bear," he said before passing out, the limp rise and fall of his chest the only sign of continued life.

"I'll send out attendants to take him to surgery. I will try to save his arm. We leave now," he said, nodding to the men who appeared in the doorway at the sound of the commotion.

"But, the blood sample, Gregor," Markov pleaded softly, his eyes on the shredded tendons that the unconscious man was no longer guarding.

"We leave now," Krieger said, stepping over the man. He began to hum on his way to surgery.

Chapter 16

Josiah stood at the end of the gang plank. They had made quick work of emptying the base and given that there was no one left alive here to need it, they had come away with far more supplies than they had planned on. Ching had taken the Captain into the infirmary to treat her wounds. There had been some rather colorful curses streaming out of the room, carried on the steam of the heated water.

Abe and Violet sat locked in the cabin, reading over Sybil's notes on how to fly the ship. The storm had abated, but the wind was fierce, howling through the cracks in the ship, pulling at the tied down sails.

"I don't know Abe . . . I am okay with regular old flying, you know . . . Point A to B type stuff. Other than some thunderstorms, we don't usually deal with high winds unless it's a rescue. She won't even bring the ship up if they are too high," she said, staring at the same page, Sybil's squiggles filling every inch of it.

"Well, I'm pretty sure we can call this a rescue. But I feel you, I'm truly hoping Ching can mend her enough to be on deck to tell us what to do. But with that wind, and possibly snowfall, this is probably going to be you and me, kid," he said, wishing he'd taken the wheel more times when she had offered it.

"I'm good at steering. Theoretically, the engines should not need anything once we get them rolling. We run a water system, therefore, we have at least three days of flying time with the water in the tanks and not dipping into the drinking water. If we are running at a slower pace, a day and a half," she said, pausing to look again at the page for boiler bypassing.

"She has instructions here to do the bypass and hook up straight steam tanks; but if nothing else, I hope she's lucid enough to help us with that. I do not want to blow up," Violet said, holding the paper closer to her eyes to burn it into her memory.

Abe nodded, blowing up would certainly put all their plans to an abrupt halt.

"Given how open this area is, I can do the takeoff. It should give us an idea of how much power the wind is going to have over us. Then we can go from there," Abe said, the slump of his shoulders undermining his words.

"Captain on deck!" Violet heard Ching shout and smiled, it pleased her that they respected the master of the ship.

Rushing for the door, Abe and Violet collided with a resounding thud.

Sybil chuckled from the doorway.

"Careful, we need someone who can steer," she said, her face drawn but her eyes clear.

"How are you?" Violet asked, studying her mummified arm. Ching's skill was impressive.

"Ching says I will live as long as I don't get infected. Probably should have the skin grafted, but given our situation, I'll just add another grisly scar to my canvas," she said, winking with her scared eye.

"Battle scars, Madam," Abe said quietly. It hurt him to see her in pain, but he could not help but be proud of her grit and resilience.

"I've been listening to the wind and reading the weather reports Templar had put out. The pass is unpredictable. They can go weeks, even possibly a month without a storm, but the winds are constant. Storms show up with what they call 'thunder snow,' that are sudden and brutal. It is my sincere hope that we can sneak through between squalls and that there is not a frozen wasteland on the other side of those ragged, pointy mountains," she said, sinking into her bed.

"Josiah is bringing the maps of the pass, I don't know how much good it will do us, depending on visibility, but it will at least let us know how far is between here, and wherever," she added, laying back, her eyes closed.

Abe raised a finger to his lips and nodded to the door. Violet paused to cover her captain in their best blanket before slipping out the door. The sun was setting, night winging its way towards them; thick, deep, and black on the back of whistling winds that cut to the bone.

"I don't think we should try to fly at night," Abe said, pulling his coat tighter around him. He never did like winter much.

Violet started to object, but then nodded.

"I don't suppose there are any guns in the pass we need to remain hidden from," she said.

"Plus, that will give Sybil time to rest and possibly be able to get us through this winding pass," Josiah said, walking into the middle of their conversation, the map held out in front of him.

"Even if someone had noticed that this station was not reporting, we are at least two days from the nearest . . . well, anything; so, I think we are safe," he added, walking off looking pleased with himself.

"Well, I see where she gets the cockiness," Violet said with a smirk.

"No doubt," Abe said, heading off to set up watch schedules and make one more round of the base to make sure everything was nailed down. Something in the back of his mind told him he was missing something; something incredibly important.

****************************************************************************

The low light in Gregor's study was nearly burnt through. They were intended to only run for a couple of ours at a time, allowing the glass to cool. He had been there all night, staring at everything and nothing. Things had become clearer; yet, with all this new information, he was still missing the most critical pieces.

Who had taken the serum? How had they known about it in the first place? How did they get into the organ room, or for that matter, out of it? How did she escape the dungeon? Where was his horse master? Why was one of the top acolytes of the Maw being prepared for his pyre? Where was his sister? Where was his daughter? His favored wife? How were they involved with that ridiculous air pirate? He had spun so many scenarios through his head; some probable, and some that only seemed likely in those dark hours between two and four am.

Blood had been found in the stable, but it was not Nakari's. Could it have been Mardrich's? They had taken the horses, so perhaps they had injured or even killed him as they escaped. Were Lucy and Asha hostages? What could they possibly want to negotiate for? He rubbed his temples, the headache started sometime after his brilliant chord had fallen flat. He knew instantly something had gone awry when the final notes brought forth nothing but the purple colored steam. It should have been blue; brilliant glittery blue, covering the masses, thousands upon thousands of them in its dewy mist.

Every time he was on the verge of success, something foiled him. The first time, it had been the blasts. While they had intended the nuclear reshaping of the world, it was supposed to be after everyone had been exposed. But they had still been in trials. Locating the RD mutations had set them back nearly five years. They wanted mindless drones, not prodigies. He knew Markov had done side experiments with the RD group, but it had proven to be such a small portion of the population before the blasts, that he had not cared.

But some trigger-happy asshole had decided that nuclear Armageddon was the way to go. It had nearly cost them everything they had worked for. It certainly set back the second batch of serum one and halted production on two. It has always bothered him that it had to be a two-part procedure, it left so many things open to error. But the fundamental changing of people's DNA, the switching on and off certain traits was a delicate process.

If things had gone to plan, they would have had three quarters of the populace hit with dose one before the bombs dropped, the radiation giving a wonderful cover for serum two to be given without suspicion. So, whomever had survived the blasts would be inoculated and the new world of peace and order could begin.

He closed his eyes as the pounding of his temples tried to drive out his thoughts and leave him only in its vice-like grip.

Leaning back, he turned off the light, letting the red Sadovkan morning slant through his blinds. He could be happy, he supposed. He was the true power in the new world. He may not control the other two Imperiums, per se, but they would cease to exist without him. His stranglehold on the Maw was the only saving grace out of this entire affair.

The loss of electrical power had not been foreseen. He blamed it on whatever was in that super nuke Japan had oops'd over the side of a ship in the China Sea. They had suspected some speed up in the continental drift, and the possibility of a few island nations being tossed about, but all of this . . . this scarred ugly land, full of mutated animals and half alive people. This had been far from any of his future.

But he had adapted, he had survived and was thriving. He supposed he had luck to thank for surviving, he had been deep in the Russian countryside when the first bomb fell. His shelter, albeit it half-finished at the time, was able to shield him and his brother from the chaos that had followed.

He recalled stumbling out into the overly bright sunshine once the earth had stopped moving and no blasts had been heard for a full day and night. He remembered the despair that had filled him to the point of nearly throwing himself into the pulsing river.

But he had not. He regrouped, pulled together what was left of his plans, and redoubled his efforts to rule whatever was left of his planet.

He was meant to rule. He knew that deep down, some men are just meant to stand above the rest. To bring a peace and natural order to what had become an uncertain future. He liked to forget the men he had stood upon to attain his place. He least often thought of Enoch. He frowned as the man flashed into his mind. When they had met, he was far from the man who would woo the world, and much closer to the man who now sat below the very Maw he had helped them tame.

Rumors of the billowing steam vents that slashed through what had been a large part of eastern Europe and China had reached Markov and Gregor as they were holed up in the Vatican. Several religious men, including the Pope, had survived the blasts.

But neither Markov nor Gregor had any intention of allowing them to remain alive. Men of religion were dangerous as they brought hope. They needed people to be desperate, accepting any hand that offered help, and thankful for Templar's handling of the crisis. It was a simple matter. Large amounts of pain killers in the morning oatmeal and the old gents had popped off quietly before lunch.

Fortuitously, there was a crematorium in the cellar, which more than a few people commented on. How many of the Vatican's problems had taken a trip down to this cellar to never again see the light of day? Perhaps there was some justice in the flames they had been fed to. After all, covering up a crime can sometimes be worse than the act itself. Especially when the covering allowed the crime to be committed repeatedly in new places. He knew burning them was a selfish act, and while far from a religious man, Gregor felt himself on the side of the just as he watched them turn to dust.

His head continued to pulse, closing his eyes did nothing to stop the arcs of crystal shooting through his vision. In the beginning, he had marveled at what were called auras. It reminded him very much of looking through a prism and watching the light reflect with rainbow hues. He had not yet known what pain they heralded, and while he was not surprised that he was having an attack during the second most stressful event of his life, he could have very well done without them.

He would need to take meds; strong ones, ones that would leave him unavailable for hours. Instead of riding the forefront of this crisis, he would have to retreat to his room and lie in the dark until his brain ceased to attempt to liquefy and exit via his ears. He glanced at the decanter on his sideboard, the arcs in his vision creating quite the show as they danced over the cut crystal. It would be nice if he could simply drink away the headache. He had always prided himself at being able to function when lesser men were taken by the spirits. The cramp in his stomach warned him against it. This one was going to require all the guns the Medici had, and he had no one he truly trusted to leave in control.

His sigh came out as a rattle of frustration and pain. Yanking on the rope, he waited for the runner. The boy poked his head in nervously, rumors had begun to circulate about the kidnapping of his favorite wife and child by the air pirate, Captain Hook. She has also been blamed in the death and disappearance of Nakari, Mardrich, and Lila. The bishop was beside himself and what was supposed to be a party had become a large religious mourning.

The look on Gregor's face confirmed the boy's suspicion of his anger, and he only stepped partway into the room ready to dodge anything thrown at him.

"Yes, Sir?" he asked, hands tucked behind his back to avoid their shaking being seen.

"Get my Medici, then go to the hall of the wives and summon Seraph here now," was all he said before turning his back to the window.

Before his body was fully turned, the boy was gone, his steps echoing through the walls of volcanic glass and stone.

*****************************************************************************

As Gregor was growling instructions to his second favorite wife and begrudgingly accepting the medicine that would obliterate his headache and well as his conscious for a time, what he viewed as his main nemesis was awakening to the rising of the sun.

Sybil sat up, her arm ached, and her mouth was dry. She has no idea what was in the pills Ching had given her, but she had been dead to the world for nearly ten hours. Her bones creaked and cracked as she rolled all her other joints, attempting to wake her body.

The pain in her arm was lessened, it ached and moving it brought a whole new explosion of pain. But if she sat very still, she could get it down to rolling waves of deep ache. That, she could work with. She knew she was in no position to pilot the ship, but she felt she could at least stand beside the pilot and offer instruction.

Glancing at the table, she saw the notes Abe and Violet had been pouring over. In hindsight, she really should have taught them both everything there was to know about flying the Valkyrie. It had been hubris on her part to assume she would always be present to fly her.

She inhaled deeply, the smell of food reaching her. One thing was for certain, having a full crew meant eating a whole lot better. Standing slowly, she closed her eyes, allowing the rush of blood that filled her head to settle before attempting to walk.

Violet looked, a grin on her face, as Sybil appeared from the cabin.

"I knew it would be the food that woke you," she said with a grin as she piled eggs, bacon, and rather suspect looking biscuits on a plate.

"Well, I must admit it smells much better than anything I could make," she said with a smile. Glancing over the deck, she saw small groups together; eating, talking, everyone bundled up in Templar gear. Had she not known they were her crew; it would have looked like an invasion instead of breakfast.

Looking up, she was pleased to see the blue sky greeting the sun. There were numerous clouds, thick and gray, near the peaks. Other than the biting cold, it looked like a good day for flying.

Taking the plate from Violet, she headed back in the cabin.

Hearing boot steps behind her, she glanced in her dressing mirror to see Josiah following her, breakfast in one hand, a map in the other.

"If I may intrude upon your breakfast, I'd like to show you the map," he said, waiting at the door.

She simply nodded. She still had not decided how to take this man. This man who was responsible for her existence on this planet, but not much else. He had broken April's trust and left her alone to give birth in this new, uncertain world, simply because she was an assignment.

In all the years since her birth, never once had he appeared, or even been mentioned, at least not where she could hear. She imagined that her mother and Abe had talked about him. It hurt her to think of her mother waiting for this man. He was irresponsible, selfish, and had zero concept of what family actually meant. Her mother had deserved better.

Looking up at him, she waited to feel something; not love, but perhaps kinship, something like the paranormal bond she and her sisters had discovered. Yet, nothing came, not even anger. But certainly not trust; no matter how sure he was that their path lie on the other side of those desolate peaks, she still held a suspicion that he was simply using them as he did everyone in his life. Dragging them along on another one of his adventures, with no real care for their personal safety.

All their lives were now forfeit in all the Imperiums. Lucy and Asha, and possibly even Mardrich, could claim that they were kidnapped, hostages of the vile Captain Hook who escaped the Sadovikan citadel, an unheard-of accomplishment. Abe and Josiah would have a hard time explaining the company they kept given two of Markov's top men should easily overtake an injured air pirate. The rest of them would be executed on the spot, or worse sent to Heaven.

So really, he had left them no choice. His foray into saving all those people, from who knows what, really had lashed them to him, for better or for worse. She nodded to the chair beside her, munching on the bacon.

"I'm going to warn you in advance, those are Templar rations biscuits. Whatever you don't choke down, we can use to throw at enemies," he said with a wink.

He was trying desperately to be charming. In her eyes he fell flat and it showed in her lack of expected laugh.

"But speaking of weapons, what do you have on this boat?" he asked, digging into his own eggs.

"First off, Mr. Carter . . . the Valkyrie is not a boat. She does not float, nor should we attempt to. Second, she is the only thing keeping your sorry ass out of Gregor's waiting paws, so I'm going to suggest you show her a bit more respect. Third, I have three steam cannons in the hold. They are not terribly accurate, and I don't have a lot of ammo, but the biscuits might be an option," she said, thoughtfully hitting hers hard against the table, unsurprised when it did not break.

He gave her a smile. She did not like him, he knew that. He could not blame her, given all of it. He did not love her, nor Lucy; not the way he loved Ching. The regret from that ached in his heart like a toothache. No matter what he told himself all those years, he could have met them. He could have told them all the truth when the girls were born, but he had been afraid. He truly loved Jia and knew the knowledge would break her heart. He was still a little unsure as to why she had not yet broken his neck.

"I am not capable of steering at this point, but I can give instructions. How long do you think it will take us to get through the pass?" she asked, pushing the plate, left only with the questionable biscuits, aside.

"I've looked at this for hours. On the ground it would take us at least four or five days if no storms buried us. But given that we have this incredible ship . . .," he said.

"Two days, if we can avoid the rocks shelves. We have enough fuel, and if the weather stays fair, I see no reason why we can't, well . . . sail through," he said, chuckling at his own "dad joke."

"Two days is doable at cruising speed on the water we have. I'm hoping you are correct. On the other side we can set her down and switch to the steam. I have a prototype converter for saltwater to steam but I've never actually had call to use it. It was more of a 'see if I could,' idea than a needed part of the ship," she said, remembering when the idea for the converter had come to her.

She had been in the barn, setting up the next batch of shine to ferment, when out of nowhere it occurred to her that she might need to convert her own water while flying. Now the engines she had now could do that. The boiler made its own steam, but how would that work with other types of water? The shine had needed its own entire engine, but what if it were saltwater? She had thought the idea odd when it came, even though she had given it enough thought to sketch a design and tinker with parts. Sitting here staring at this man, she wondered if it had been an organic idea. Perhaps she had picked up some of Josiah's thoughts the way she had been catching snippets of her sisters' lives all these years.

"Incoming!" Abe's voice bellowed; Sybil's chair made a loud thud as she jumped to her feet. Her cricket appeared, softer this time, but none the less chirping in her ear that danger was near.

Running to the deck she glanced over the side. Coming up the road was an entire Templar platoon, complete with a tank.

"Gorram it," Abe swore suddenly. What he had forgotten became blazingly clear.

Templar outposts, especially the remote ones, would have telemetry scanners. It was a small chip embedded into the men's arms and once a week, everyone would be scanned. It was a more consistent way to take roll call. No one could cover for anyone else as each chip was individual. The members of this station had been dead for at least 2 days at this point. Who knew how long before they had been torn limb from limb that they had scanned in. They had assumed they were safe, and they had been so wrong.

"Everyone in cabin or under deck, except Violet. Join me on the bridge. Abe, crow's nest. Constantine, I need you to watch the boiler. I'm going to pull off a very fast up and out, straight into the pass. If she hits red, you will have to pull the lever. There is only one, pull it fast the moment that gauge hits red," Sybil said, taking the stairs two at a time, launching herself at the wheel. Within a moment, everyone was in motion. Flash and smoke bombs were being hurled at them. They were still too far out to be more than a stink and a distraction. But after being sighted, the platoon was now hauling ass.

Sybil looked at Violet.

"Do you remember how we escaped Heaven?" she asked, her eyes moving between the rolling feet of black boots and the deepening gray of the sky in front of them.

Violet nodded.

"Let's hope it works again. Given your arm, I'm a little concerned about the shine engine in the best of times," she said, pushing the appropriate buttons. Grabbing a rope, she lashed herself to Sybil and the wheel and engaged the booster.

What happened next would be the talk of every dinner table in nearly all the Imperiums. Although the truth of it was greatly exaggerated by the witnesses, the sight was impressive none the less.

Deep within Valkyrie, a rolling belch rumbled forth, shaking the ship with its intensity. With a mumbled prayer, Violet engaged the levers for lift and with a tail of moonshine fire, the Valkyrie shot straight up into the air nearly ten stories before hurtling towards the foreboding pass, the wind moaning against them in protest of their violent entrance.

The burst of the shine engine hurtled them into the pass; the first peak passing so close, Abe could have reached out and grabbed it. Despite having velocity on their side, the ship was thrown from side to side as the concentrated winds attempted to expel the unwanted visitor.

"Turn back, you are not wanted here," the winds moaned around them. Violet used all her skill, and more than a bit of Sybil's remaining strength, to keep them from capsizing.

The men behind them turned into ants, their little bodies moving frantically to keep up, but they were no match for the shine engines. In a matter of minutes, they were beyond the reach of the soldiers and at the mercy of the pass.

"We are clear, slow down," Sybil said, her voice strained; her good shoulder had been wedged against the wheel to help Violet keep them stable. She'd flown in many kinds of weather, but this was the first time she'd ever battled wind like this. Here it was alive, and wild, it's many hands ripping and pulling at her clothing, desperate to destroy any foolish enough to enter.

Violet nodded, easing the throttle back. The engines slowed to a normal cruising speed in just enough time to miss a craggy outcropping that hungered to rip apart her beloved ship like a can opener.

"We need to go higher or lower, the currents here are way too strong. They never included this in the reports because no one is up this high!" Sybil said, gritting her teeth against the pain singing through her body.

"Well, yes . . . flying ships are not exactly common in the Now Times," Josiah added, coming up behind them and grabbing the wheel. The reduced speed had slowed them to a continual rocking, but gusts still sprang up strong enough to toss a person overboard.

"I would suggest lower. Higher puts us up into the snow clouds and I'd rather not have the pipes freeze," Sybil said, her body screaming at her to leave the deck, lay down with some of Ching's pain meds, and just forget all of them.

"Lower puts us closer to the peaks themselves, and all the loose rocks and snow that could slide. So, we are going to have to fly this thing slow and careful. I know you don't know what an avalanche is outside theory, but I can tell you, you do not want a couple hundred pounds of snow and rocks coming down on you," Josiah said, noting Sybil's pale drawn expression. She was in severe pain. If she continued up here, there was a high chance she would simply pass out; or worse, be unable to give the proper commands.

"How long before they come after us? " Violet asked. Everyone else was tied up in the weather and the route, but she had not forgotten about the men behind them.

"Shit," Josiah said. He had clearly forgotten they had Templar at their heels.

On top of being who they were, the carnage at the station would have to be answered for. He would normally not think they would brave the pass. But the people and cargo aboard the ship were a hot commodity and would earn anyone who returned it a very high reward.

He sighed deeply sounding much like the buffeting winds.

"Give them a day, at most, they will want to go over the base. Once they find, well . . . all of that, and all the stolen supplies, they are going to radio Markov. At this point he may not know Abe and I are with you, but he will know you have the serum and are making a run for the border," he said.

"Templar knows that there is something beyond this pass so they will be trying to catch us before we get there. A day at most," he added, scratching his fingers over his salt and pepper stubble.

"Then we go low, and we go slow, but not too slow. We have to put some distance between us and them. Even though they are on foot, they have a tank, and guns. I'd like to not take the chance of being shot down by a bunch of pipe bangers," Sybil said, her body swaying in the wind as her strength failed.

Violet glanced at the silent sheer cliff walls passing on either side of them. They had more than enough width at this height but going lower would put them in a tight squeeze. She could not think of a time she had not wanted to have the wheel as much as this moment. She glanced up at Abe, wondering idly if he would feel more comfortable threading the eye of this needle with a flying galleon, but somehow, she doubted it.

"Take her down slowly. Josiah, grab Constantine, we are beyond boiler danger now. We need lookouts on both sides of the ship. She can take a little bump here and there, but scratches will damage her, and a rip would sink us. I need eyes on our sides, Abe has the front, find someone incredibly competent to watch the back," she said, leaning hard against the railing. Looking down the steps to the lower deck, she closed her eyes, willing herself to stay upright. She had nearly won when an unfamiliar strong arm slid around her waist, steadying her.

"I think you might do better with a chair," a soft voice said to her.

Opening her eyes, she was surprised to be staring into a similar pair of gray eyes. Lucy smiled.

"Sorry to uh . . . grab you, but I saw you swaying, and I really need you to not break your neck as we all need your marvelous vessel to survive," she said.

Sybil felt her mood calm, the dizziness faded, and she laid her head on the woman's shoulder, experiencing what many in Sadovka called the Lucy effect. She continued to talk to Sybil, praising her flying marvel and thanking her for saving them; however, individual words had ceased to filter into her ears. She just floated along the warm, calming stream of her tone, allowing the woman to hold her gently as the world floated past.

A few moments later Asha and Mardrich arrived with one of the chairs from the cabin and several blankets. The braced the chair against the wall of the engine compartment, the heat from the boiler cutting away some of the winds harsh bite. They bundled her, careful of her arm, into the chair. She resembled a monarch n a throne of down.

"Now you can still watch and give direction, but we have no chance of losing you over the side," Lucy said with a smile. Her words and expression were kind, but her eyes held a deep sadness that cut into Sybil's heart.

Sybil nodded, the warmth and comfort clearing her mind and easing her pain just enough.

"Take her down again, no more than twenty feet per drop. Check the sides before each drop, try to hover before each drop, taking them moving increases the chances of scraping," she said, pain staining her words.

"I promise you, once we get somewhere stable, I will learn everything about this ship from one side to the other so that you never need to be put in danger again," Violet said, hiding the unshed tears of joy for the care taken of her Captain. Perhaps these sisters were not all bad.

"As will I," said Lucy.

"Same," said Ching, bounding up the flight of stairs in two practiced leaps.

"I brought you some pain tea. The dose is smaller so it should not put you out, but the strain the pain is putting on your body is intense and the more rested we can keep you, the better," Ching said, handing her a mug with a pungent steaming liquid.

Sybil managed a half smile at those watching her.

"Well, the smell alone should do it!' she said, her effort at cheerful, strained.

Over the next hour they managed to drop to a height that cut out the wicked swirling wind. The temperature was still much colder than any of the young ones had ever experienced and the only one who was not bundled up like a mummy was Violet. She had to drive, and bulky layers were not conducive to playing keep away from rolling boulders.

"If we stay at this heading and keep going until the sun drops, we should be able to set her down in a dry riverbed indicated on the map as a stopping point. I have no idea if it will be large enough for us to set her down in. but if nothing else, we can low hover and wait for the sun. There is no way I am comfortable trying to fly through this thing in the dark." Violet said.

Josiah looked up. Somewhere above them was a noonday sun, its hazy light filtering through the storm-heavy shroud that lay over the mountains like a blanket.

"Agreed, if we start as soon as the sun is up, we should in theory be able to exit the pass tomorrow and get on with, with . . . well, whatever it is we have to do to make it to the lost continent," Josiah said, not sounding nearly as put together as he would have liked.

For the most part, the day passed uneventfully, a few scrapes that caused winces, several rocks tried to stowaway on board by pitching themselves onto the deck. Abe had taken over at the wheel around four to let Violet rest. Ching took the time to massage some pain cream into her hands that had white-knuckled the wheel for nearly eight hours.

Sybil sat quietly in the chair, having dozed off and on. She had regained some color, but Ching was not looking forward to taking off the bandages. She had treated more than a few serious burns, especially given her chosen profession, but never with so little supplies. The outpost medical had been decently stocked and she had taken everything, but there was no time or place or person to do the surgery needed to graft the skin. She had heard Sybil laugh it off as another scar, but she was far more worried about deeper damage; loss of feeling as far down as the hand. Sybil would be crushed if she were to lose the use of her arm.

As the sun was setting, Sybil stood beside Abe, peering ahead of them as the sharp rocks below began to soften and soon turned into a deep gully, which at first was far too narrow to set the ship in. It widened around a bend, looking like it might be a very tight fit; but given their other option of hovering above the ground for hours and wasting fuel, it was worth the try.

"I'm going to land her," Sybil said softly.

"You sure, boss?" Abe asked. She did look much better than she had this morning but landing her in such a tight spot with one hand took a whole lot more than a bit better.

"Yeah, I mean, let's be honest . . . If I don't, I'm going to have a fit at whoever scrapes her up. If I do it, well, then you are all clear," she said with a weak smile.

"Fair enough. I'll tell everyone to grab a hold of something . . . just in case," Abe said with a wink, allowing Lucy to stand beside her sister.

"If you need an extra hand . . .," she said with a smirk.

"It seems eye color was not the only thing I passed along," Josiah said with a matching smirk.

Sybil rolled her eyes, but a small smile crept to the corners of her mouth. It had never occurred to her to think of things about herself and wonder if they came from this man. She'd only had a vague outline of who he was to start with. So, it was impossible to know if any of her behaviors had been inherited.

Slowing the engines, she smiled. It was nice to be in control of her Lady, the ship, the only constant she had ever had in her life, and it brought her peace to feel her commands obeyed and the vibration of anticipation at her next action.

"How far to the ground?" she asked no one in particular as she straightened the ship the best she could. The winds had died down and now were only gently tugging at the sails they had nearly ripped from their rigging.

"Two hundred feet, give or take," Constantine shouted up from the lower deck.

She nodded, her brain calculating the best speed at which to drop and how many feet per she could safely go at a time.

"Light all the lanterns, even the figurehead. I need to see as much as I can," she said. Taking a deep breath, she grabbed Lucy's hand placing it on the wheel.

"We are going to drop thirty feet at a time, our speed should be no more than nine knots. I will control the speed. What I need from you is to keep us straight, I will tell you what direction you need to go and how many handholds to turn," she said, looking into what felt like her own stare.

"This I can do; thank you for your trust in me," Lucy said with a smile, that for just a moment, lightened the sadness in her eyes.

"Okay, here goes everything," Sybil said, lowering the lever.

*****************************************************************************

Krieger exited the surgery, tossing his apron aside, ignoring the wet thud it made as the gore covering it contacted with the ceramic wash basin. It had taken him hours; it had worked in his favor to use the more humane ways of surgery and put him under to operate. It had allowed him to do alterations that may have killed the man had he been conscious. There were several times he was sure the man would die, his blood pressure dropped rapidly and at one point, his heart stopped.

But Krieger was a perfectionist. He knew Markov was watching. He wanted that gelatinous fool to see that power did not always lie outside one's self in amassed armies or stores of weapons. It lay within, in one's own skills and abilities. He knew that no one in the Imperiums could do the augmentations he could. No one even dared to replace vital organs with clockwork or artificial devices. He was a genius and that was where his power lie.

He hummed to himself, pleased that everything had gone so well. His high was crushed as he stepped into his compartment and saw his manservant waiting for him with another message. The last missive from his dear brother had cost him some of his protection force via Markov's goons, but also one of his favorite helpers, Adam.

"I swear, if he is chastising me for what happened to his precious evidence, so help me," he muttered. Taking the note, he sank into his favorite chair. The familiar creak brought a flare of joy to his lips before he set about reading the message.

"Markov sent word. Stop. I imagine it was some of the Nulls. Stop. Head for device. Stop. Don't stop the train until you are safe at the Vatican. Stop. All things uncertain. Stop," the message read. Krieger glanced at it a couple of times.

"He says we were attacked by Nulls, as if I didn't already know that. He spends so much time locked up in his palace he forgets the dangers of the very lands he claims to control." Krieger knew better than most, what desperate people were capable of. He made his business preying upon them, the fringes of society people didn't know about, or if they did, they didn't seem to care. If the Now Times had taught him anything about human nature, the will to survive would override compassion and kindness any day.

"Go tell Markov his employee is alive and recovering, and that we will not be stopping until we are outside his front door," Krieger said, his hands on his case before the door had slid fully shut.

It had been a long day. The days appeared to be making this a trend. He had a couple nights of possible peace left before he had to go traipsing across all the Imperiums, searching for a serum that was neither his problem nor his interest.

Sometimes he debated bucking his brother's random assignments. He had more than enough of his own to keep him busy. Why should he play errand boy for the man in the castle when he had plenty of things to keep him busy?

He slid the needle into his vein, knowing full well, everything he had from, the train to the permission to pursue his desire, came from Gregor. So, no matter how much he despised his brother, it as in his best interests to keep him happy, or as happy as that man could be.

The plunger slid home, releasing its silent magic into his veins. Closing his eyes, he pictured Asha, her long hair swaying as she walked, imagining what it would be like to taste her lips, even if just for a moment.

But like everything, else she belonged to Gregor, who had somehow managed to lose the only woman Krieger had ever loved.

*************************************************

Unholy shrieks of anguish and torment echoed throughout the pass bounding, off the stones. Violet cringed, closing her eyes. It would be easy to assume some great beast was in its death throes, wailing its final bellows to sky. However, it was the sound of a brass hull scraping down the sides of a very narrow mountain pass.

Everyone watched Sybil. Lips pursed, she growled in frustration before slowing the decent.

"This is it guys . . . As low as she goes. Any further, I'm going to put a hole in the side, and with my luck, I'd hit the boiler tanks," she said, returning the ship to hover.

"We are only about ten feet from the bottom. Given how snug we are wedged in here, I think you might be able to cut the engines and use the walls as a dock," Abe said, looking over the starboard side.

"We can try. Is there any way you guys can go over the end and make sure there is nothing leaking on the underside?" Sybil asked, biting her lip to keep the pain from washing her away. She had made it the full day on deck, yes in a comfy chair and yes with naps, but she was exhausted. Her arm, that had started with a residual ache after she had refused the last cup of tea so she could land, had climbed onto every nerve in her body and its fire threatened to consume her.

"We've got that, Captain. Please come to the cabin with me I'd like to change your bandages," Ching said, adding and pump you full of some serious pain killers, in her mind.

Sybil nodded.

"I'm just going to sit down here a moment first," she said, heading for her chair.

"No, I think laying down would be best," Mardrich said, scooping her up into his arms as if she were a rag doll. Any protests at the indignity of being carried about were lost as she gave in to the blackness she had held at bay for so long.

"Okay, who wants to rope over the side and see if our tub has sprung a leak?" Josiah said once he was sure Sybil was out of ear shot. Conscious or not, she might come up swinging at the word 'tub.'

"I'll go so I can mark it on the blueprints if there is anything," Violet said, heading to the cabin.

"I'll go as well," Josiah said, offering no explanation for his reasoning.

"Whelp, I'm on dinner then," Constantine said, heading into the guts of the ship to retrieve the rations, followed by Mary.

The suns setting rays saw Violet and Josiah walking down the bow of the ship, head lamps chasing away the invading gloom.

"I don't smell any shine so I'm hopeful," Violet said, trying to make conversation with the man she was still unsure about.

"That captain of yours truly is a marvel. Back in the Before Times, Moonshine was regional, you rarely saw it outside the . . . shall we call them 'rustic' areas," he said with a grin.

"She taught herself. The barn of her house had a still in the loft, pretty bad shape but she cleaned it all up and worked out how to make it. I think April may have taught her that part, but that was before I came along," she said quietly, noting how April's name bought a twinge of guilt to his eyes.

"How did you end up as a first mate on a flying pirate ship anyway? I mean, it's not the most common or conventional job choice in the Now Times," he asked, repelling slowly over the side. The dark was coming fast and there were more than a few sharp rocks he would rather not land on.

Violet's lips pursed, it was not a story she told often, or to many people. Abe knew because as far as everyone at the farmhouse was concerned, Abe was family. This man, while he shared genetics and a few physical and personality traits with Sybil, was decidedly not family. In fact, he had hurt the woman who had taken in a thirteen-year-old girl who was running for her life. Any way she looked at it, he was responsible for a lot of pain in the lives of those she loved.

His curious glances between drops showed he was probably not going to drop it, so she decided on the shortened, sanitized version she told most often.

"After the bomb that killed my parents, the elders decided leaving Vellteri settling in the upper region of Pendergrass was our best chance. Given how few of the Native American tribes were left, they formed their own nation at the what would become the border of there and Sadovka. The wall got built, people were mad, lots didn't want to register. Remember . . . the last time a government had imposed its will upon their way of life, most of the adults were killed or imprisoned. A group of men from Sadovka gathered up all the young girls that were left and started touring us through Pendergrass as commodities. Some went to families who had lost their children, some went to work in settlements or shops. Most, however, were not bought per say, but paid for a night or two," she said, leaving the implication dangling in the air like the awaiting noose at a hanging.

Josiah cringed. Not only was that a terrible life for a child, he knew the men who had done it were Templar sanctioned, and on more than one occasion, some of those young girls would have been rented to fellow employees. It had hurt him to look away from it, but that first year after the blasts had been hard. The worst of humanity's underbelly had been flushed to the top and with no real rule of law, they had flourished in the open for far too long a time.

He glanced at her again, her long, what he imagined was black, hair turned a deep violet. She was a child, younger than his girls he figured, but not by much. Her eyes spoke of an age and experience she had no business knowing.

"Yeah, so . . . we were stopping in Hope and my assignment for the evening got very rough, so I ran. I ended up stumbling from the cornfields to land nearly on April's doorstep. She took me in, and well . . . I guess the rest is history as they say," she said, closing her eyes to squeeze out the memory of running through the cornfield, her lip busted, and her arm dislocated and already discoloring with ugly purple bruises; pushing through row after row, knowing at any moment his hands could seize her throat, and his sour mouth would press to hers.

The shudder ran her full body before she pushed those memories back where they belonged. The next descent would land them to the ground, and while it was unlikely that any danger awaited, it was never good to lose vigilance.

"I'm sorry," was all he said before dropping the final feet to the ground, his boots crunching against the rocks below.
Chapter 17

Markov shoved past Krieger's guards and slammed the compartment door open.

"What kind of monster is that air pirate?" he screamed, spittle flying from his bulbous red lips that were drawn into an unbelieving snarl.

Krieger sat forward slowly. Measured breath in and out, he knew he was very close to slitting this man's throat and tossing him from the side of the moving train. No one had ever dared enter his compartment uninvited and no one had ever been invited. Markov was in his sanctuary, screaming, and demanding answers to questions he had no context on.

"Excuse me?" he said, opening his eyes slowly, his tone emotionless.

"That woman, Captain Hook, she and whomever else fled Sadovka are headed for the rim. But on their way out the stopped and slaughtered the entire outpost. All of them dead, every supply taken," he said, shaking the crumpled telegram in his had like a demoralized flag.

"The rim you say," Krieger replied, leaning back, he was still livid with the man for intruding but that could wait. The time would come when Markov no longer mattered to Gregor, then he would take him for another ride on Heaven, on his own terms.

"That means they intend to try to cross the ocean," Krieger added.

"You don't think I don't know that?" Markov replied, the vein in his temple beginning to pulse.

"So, what if they do, at best they will die somewhere in the irradiated water, at worst they will make it to the prison colony and be torn asunder by whatever lunatics have survived," he replied with a wave of his hand.

"Well for one, we have literally no idea what is over there. But more than a few of the people we shoved through the pass seem to think that more lays out there than just the deadly-in-the-Before-Times island of Australia," he said, his voice rising in pitch.

"Not to mention, in both of your scenarios, the serum is lost. All the years of work, research, the murders, manipulations . . . all of it will be for nothing and your brother's Utopia is lost," Markov said.

"Well, yes . . . I can see that as unfortunate, but it seems to me that there is no way for us to catch them. Now that we know where the serum is headed, it seems a waste of time to continue to the Vatican. However, even if we were to switch to the short line and put Heaven in overdrive, we would not make it to the pass before they make it through. I do hate to remind you, but the Hook bitch is an 'air' pirate, which means she will not need to take the trail through the pass and may even likely sail over it if the winds permit," he said, enjoying the realization of his words hitting Markov. His eyes bulge and a low growl escaped his throat. If I'm lucky, Krieger thought, he will stroke out or his clogged arteries will give way and I can be done with this.

Markov saw the glint of amusement in Krieger's eyes. His blood began to boil, but he needed this man. Lashing out and strangling his little chicken neck would put a damper on things.

"I'm surprised you are letting her escape you," he said, giving his tone an amused quality.

"I mean, it's not like all the Imperiums don't already know she escaped you once. It should prove for quite the tale when they learn that you let her get away for good," he said, a smug smile on his face as he saw the high color staining the old man's cheeks.

"That may very well be true. But even if we wanted to, we could not get there in time," he said through clenched teeth.

"I still have men at the sendoff point. I don't know how much good they will be after the carnage they inflicted on the outpost. But if nothing else, it might give us enough time. I have nitro at my disposal," he said, pleased as Krieger's eyebrows shot to his hairline.

"How soon can you get it here?" he asked, realizing that even though they would likely not be catching them, he owed it to the one that got away to try just one more time.

"I'll have it brought to the turnout; you just get us to the right line, and I'll provide the liquid lightning," he said with a happy smile, knowing that button would work on him.

He may be right, they may not make it, but he would be dammed if he let everything go without giving it everything he had. He was more annoyed at the loss of supplies and the fact that they had gotten away than at the loss of life.

He had never allowed anyone to steal from him, and he was not about to start now.

*****************************************************************************

"Looks like we will have some pretty deep dents to bang out once we get to our destination, and Sybil's going to lose her crackers over the scratches; but there's no punctures," Violet said, shining her light along the last part of the ship's underbelly. It had taken nearly an hour to cover the visible part of her underside, given that it was full dark and all they had were headlamps.

Leaning closer to the side to try to get an estimate on how deep the scrape was her feet slipped on the loose gravel. Reaching out in the dark for anything that would steady her, she found nothing, she tucked her head as it became inevitable that she was going to fall.

"Gorram son of a motherless pipe banger," she muttered as her body contacted soundly with several very pointy rocks.

Somewhere in the darkness, Josiah laughed.

"Girl if I did not already know you were a sailor, I'd say you had the mouth of one. Stay put. I'll come help you," he said, making his way towards her as a very distinct scent reached his nose.

In an instant, his pace changed from amused ambling to a dead run, rocks shooting out behind him. Scooping Violet up, he jumped as far as he could from where they were standing, oblivious to Violet's cries of complaint.

Before she could push him off her and demand answers, a small explosion rocked the ship. The pitch dark lit up with a plume of fire, sparks bouncing off the rocks, reminiscent of sparklers.

Josiah hissed in pain, his body completely covering hers. From above, worried voices shouted down.

For a moment they just lay there in a heap, blinking away the image of the ship that was burned into their eyelids and shaking the ringing from their ears.

Standing slowly, Violet swept the underside of the ship, a deep groan escaping her lips.

"Well, we didn't have a hole before, but we certainly do now," she said, pointing to the fist size hole the explosive had punched directly above where she had been standing. She examined it quietly for a moment, her ears still stuffed with wool, or at least that was how it felt.

Turning her light to Josiah to thank him, she gasped. Protruding from the back of his oversized jacked was a long, gnarled piece of shrapnel.

"Looks like you have a new hole in you too, are you okay?" she asked, moving to support him as he sagged.

"That was a Templar mine. Why are there mines in the pass?" he asked, his eyes drooping as his words whistled through his clenched teeth.

"Oh, honey, I don't know. We will figure that out, but let's get you up to Ching," she said, using the same tone she used to soothe Sybil.

He only nodded, allowing her to lead him back to the ropes, she shone her light up to see Abraham's worried face far above them.

"I need the sling. He's been hurt" she shouted up, hoping the wind would allow him to hear her.

Abe shook his head and put his hands up in a I can't hear you gesture,

She sighed deeply, blood was soaking his jacket and his complexion was growing paler.

"I have to go up and get the sling, I'll bring Ching down with me. I'm going to lay you down on your stomach. I know it's far from comfortable, but I would like to avoid making another hole in the front of you," she said, guiding him to the ground.

"Ugh." Josiah said. but followed her guiding hands.

"I will be right back, don't you dare die on me, Josiah Carter, you're the reason we are here," she said before ascending as fast as she could.

Abe grabbed the rope and pulled her up the last few feet onto the deck.

"What the hell happened down there?" he asked.

"There was a mine, Josiah said it's a Templar mine. I stepped on it. Josiah . . . he tossed me to the side and shielded me. He's been hit, where's Ching?" she asked, looking around at the worried faces, not seeing the one she was most anxious for.

"I'll get her," Constantine said, taking off for the captain's quarters.

"I have to get the sling. He won't be able to climb, we will have to haul him up," she said, making her way quickly to ship's storage.

"Why are there Templar mines in the pass?" Abe asked no one and received no response. In a matter of minutes, Ching and Violet were back over the side, repelling quickly into the darkness, hoping he had not managed to bleed out.

"Dad?" Ching shouted once they were nearly down.

"I'm here," his voice came from the darkness, his headlamp, a glowing halo around his head.

"I'm coming. Don't worry, you know I can fix it," she said, her tone determined.

"I know you can, little lotus," he replied, his voice fading in and out as he spoke.

Violet paused in her descent. This man, the one she was still unsure about, had shielded her from what would have quite possibly been death or loss of limb, spoke with such tenderness towards his child. Perhaps he was not quite as terrible as she wanted to believe he was.

After what felt like an eternity to those waiting up top, Violet tugged the rope to indicate they were to pull the sling up.

"Slow and steady, we don't want to slam him into the ship or drag him along it," Abe instructed Mardrich and Mary, whom he had chosen to help him pull. Jia, Asha, and Constantine waited at the edge of the ship to lift him over the side.

Ching and Violet climbed alongside him, try to keep him steady as the wind began to whip them around.

Several grunts came from the sling as they lost to the wind and he was tossed against the side. Fortunately, those pulling were strong and in a short amount of time, they were lifting the prone Josiah aboard.

Ching had removed the shrapnel and packed the wound so she could get him on board.

"Take him to the cabin. Shadow, I need the big suture kit and the blood tubes, someone will have to give him blood, he's lost so much," she said, helping to lift him.

"I will. I imagine his being half of my DNA, we have a good chance of being the same blood type," Lucy said, appearing from the shadows.

Ching nodded.

As they moved him to a huge pile of blankets on the floor beside a deep sleeping Sybil, Asha embraced her daughter.

"You are a good child; I am very proud to be your mother," she said softly before letting her join Ching to save the man she had once considered loving.

*****************************************************************************

Seraph sat quietly, reading the telegram over and over. She was involved in a lot of Gregor's affairs; she was his secretary in many meetings and had handled his correspondence for years. Markov and Gregor had located the pirate. She had slain an entire Templar base and was headed for the Rim. If she made it off the mainland, she would be untouchable, and it was assumed she had taken Asha and Lucy as hostages. They would soon be far beyond Gregor's reach.

She held no contempt for Asha. She was not the biggest fan of Lucy, having been witness firsthand to her turbulent teen years, but she did not wish them dead. Gregor had been lying down nearly the entire day, having taken the strongest meds the Medici had to offer. She knew she should wake him and tell him the news, but the lump forming in her gut made her hesitate.

Gregor was a strong man. He possessed passion that often funneled itself into anger. He rarely hit any of his favored wives, but this news would turn his mood far fouler than it had ever been. She pushed back from his desk. He would want to be woken for this, and no matter his reaction, she was for now his first wife and duty was duty.

*****************************************************************************

Krieger paced his cabin. They had been at the turnabout for nearly an hour getting the nitro loaded and the tracks switched. All of this was allowing that woman, who had his Asha to get further away. As much as he wanted to hear that air bitch screaming in one of his chairs, he more so wanted to be the one to rescue Asha from what was a certain death on the open oceans of the Now Times.

He imagined himself being her savior, showing her once and for all that it was not Gregor whom she should be devoted to, but him. Gregor could not even be bothered to come for her. In fact, none of his hurry had had much to do with his wife or daughter. Only his precious serum mattered to him. But Krieger cared nothing for the serum or even Captain Hook. If he was truly honest this was his chance to win her.

He glanced out the car window, a team of Templar goons were loading crate after crate of Nitro into the engine room. While he may think Markov a buffoon and mostly a waste of oxygen, this was a welcome surprise. Heaven was rated to bullet train speeds, but that was hard to accomplish with steam alone. With what he had given them, it would reach new speeds. His only concern was that they had never gone that fast so he had no idea if the train would even hold together. He guessed they would see.

The slamming of the compartment door let him know they were ready; it was time to see if Heaven could fly with the angels.

The engine let out a mighty clunk and Krieger was afraid the liquid lightening had seized the engine. Not only would they not catching the ship, he would be stranded at the turnabout for the foreseeable future. While it was well guarded, it was in deep woods. After that business with the bear, he was anxious to not be anywhere this remote for too long.

Another large clunk dropped a knot into his stomach, they were sunk. Summoning his anger, he went to go scream at whoever was on the engineer team. Grasping his door was the only thing that kept him from flying through his large observation window as Heaven shot out like a bullet, in a stream of sparks and a belch of fire from the engine.

*****************************************************************************

Archbishop Gabriel looked at his reflection in the mirror. He was old, that showed in his face. The drop of his eyelids gave him a continual look of sadness even thought he was generally a good-natured man. Today, however, he was sad. His son had been murdered and his daughter was missing. Reports were filtering in from all manner of sources; everything from conspiracies within the government to rogue Nulls looking for revenge had been tossed around to explain all the disappearances and deaths that had taken place during the Grand Celebration. He had planned a ritual; one of remembrance and renewal, of faith and hope for all those who had traveled so far to celebrate the Now Times.

Instead, he stood dressed in his funeral robe, deep red with black trim. There was no hope or renewal in his heart. Tonight, he would return his son to the Maw, and pray with all the faithful gathered for the return of his daughter, the favorite wife and dear Lucy.

Outside, the bells began to chime. Soon, it would be time for his son's body to be wrapped and lowered into the Maw as the faithful beseech Lucifer to protect his soul.

A soft knock brought him from contemplation.

"Come in," he said, turning slowly to the door.

It swung silently open and before him stood Gregor, a man he had worked closely with over the years, but not one he would call a friend. Gregor didn't do friends, or compassion, or kindness overly well and Enoch had taught him early on that these were the things he needed to preach. Acceptance of each other, compassion for all, and love for the earth that had continued to sustain them even after they had scarred her with their atomic toys.

He bowed his head respectfully in return to the nod Gregor gave him.

"I am surprised to see you here," he said. It was not often that Gregor paid more than lip service to the worship of the Maw, even though, without it he would not be their leader.

"I came to offer my apologies and share a bit of information as I know you must be worried sick about Lilia," he said, his fake compassion almost as plastic as his smile. He had heard then; someone had told him about Lucy and Lilia. He was either there seeking confirmation or condemnation.

"I am, and dear Lucy, too. I can't imagine what kind of woman this air pirate must be if she was able to take Lucy without a fight," he said, straightening to his full height. Even in his old age he was well over six feet and a good several inches taller than Gregor, giving him a slight advantage in the intimidation factor.

"I sent men to the area the ship was seen taking off from, hoping to find any clues and I'm sad to say we found more than that. We found Lilia buried in the woods. I'm sorry to be the one to have to bring you such news, but I think we can say for certain it was her blood we found in the stables. She and Nakari must have tried to stop the pirate from escaping and lost their lives, I'm sure they buried her as a way of delaying knowledge of the crime," he said, a cruel smile taking over his lips.

"At least now, nothing can tarnish the memory of your two brilliant children, and they will be seen as Martyrs," he said

Gabriel stared him down, giving Gregor no satisfaction at seeing him crumble.

"I'm fairly certain she was buried out of love, and I think we both know why," he said, allowing tears of grief to rush down his cheeks without taking his eyes from Gregor's.

He snorted.

"Love is for peasants. I will tell no one so she may be also given services and given to the Maw. I owe you that much given Lucy's involvement in the aberration," he said, turning away.

"The Maw would not condemn her for her love, that only lies in the realm of man," he said to the man's back, as he retreated down the stone hallway, his steps producing sharp clacks that echoed through the halls.

He doubted very much that Lucy had anything to do with Lila's death, but Nakari being found in a pool of Lilia's blood led him to believe that his son had been killed in revenge. It was hard not to see the outlines of hands on his smashed throat. Had Lucy come across the murder of her love? Why had Lilia gone to the stables, perhaps this had been a prison break for more than just the air pirate.

Closing the door, he sunk into his chair and began to weep, not only for his dead children but for all who were persecuted and killed for simply being who they are.

*****************************************************************************

The rising sun found a groggy Sybil blinking at the man who was snoring quite loudly on a tremendous pile of soft things on the floor. He was shirtless and a large white bandage was wrapped around him.

Sitting up, she began to move slowly, pleased that the burst of pain in her arm was much less than it had been yesterday. Her table was covered in Ching's medical supplies. Blood stained the coverlets. Something quite serious had gone on and she had slept right through it. An anger at herself began to bloom in her mind. People were injured, had they been attacked? Who else had been hurt? Had it been the Templar convoy? Animals?

She struggled to stand, gripping the ends of the table as her vision swam. Whatever Ching had given her for pain had been strong and now she felt as if her brain was wrapped in a cozy blanket, her senses dulled. She shook her head, hoping to clear the fog. It only served to make her too dizzy to stand.

"This is absolutely intolerable," she muttered standing again.

"I am the captain of this ship and I need to know what is going on, not to mention the need to keep flying," she said out loud, amused that Josiah's sawing snore went on, unaware of her words.

Closing her eyes, she stepped forward, gripping the chair back, waiting for another wave of vertigo to send her world sliding. But none came. This was a good sign. Another step, eyes open now. The world wobbled a bit and she noted now the sound of people and the smell of food. Whatever attack had happened, it appeared they had won.

"Captain!" Violet shouted, jumping up from her seat beside Lucy, who was resting in the chair Sybil had been cocooned in. She was a bit pale.

Everyone turned and smiled at Sybil who was more leaning than standing in the doorway. She did a quick headcount. Seeing that everyone was present elevated her mood.

"Come, eat!" Constantine said, filling another plate with food as Violet and Ching helped Sybil back into her chair. As Lucy stood beside her; Sybil noted a bandage on her arm.

"So, it appears I missed something?" she asked. Jerking a thumb back towards the sound of snores.

"But it looks like we won?" she said, hoping humor would break the tension of everyone staring at her.

"We did indeed. Josiah and I went over the side to check for holes. We found none, but what we did find was a Templar mine. I triggered it, Josiah knew somehow and tossed us to the side. He got hit with shrapnel, deep, lost a lot of blood. But Ching fixed him up, and Lucy gave him blood and I do not think a man that can snore like that suffered any permanent damage to his lungs," she said with a wink as everyone laughed.

"Oh, and now there is a hole in the bottom. Thankfully it's not near anything important and once we are up in the air, I will be able to nail on a patch until we get to . . . wherever we get to," Violet added, settling cross legged beside her captain as she filled her face with what Constantine called 'French toast.'

"Why would Templar bother with putting mines out here? The whole point of sending people through here is to put them in exile. If they wanted them dead, would they just execute them?" Sybil asked Abe.

"I've been thinking about that since I woke up this morning. I think it might be to discourage people from coming back through. They are escorted all the way to the end of the pass by guards, who would know where the mines were. That's really all I can come up with," he said.

Sybil nodded.

"Well, I'm sorry he was hurt; thankful Violet was not, and that the hole is fixable. Wind permitting, I'm going to try to get us all the way out of the pass. I know I said two full days, but if we can manage to put on just a bit more speed, I think we might be able to make it to the other side before the sun goes down. I'd like to put as much distance between us and those men as possible," she said, glancing back the way they had come. Lowered into the canyon, she had a better view of the last walk of many people. It was hard to know how many had been exiled. The laws had been much looser in the beginning and it was perfectly acceptable to throw out those who upset the very delicate balance they had found in the Now Times.

The way was narrow in some places, filled with sharp rocks and potential landslides. Everything as far as the eye could see was gray. The sky mirrored the stones, creating a washed-out landscape where nothing grew.

The wind picked up, shaking the ship and pulling at the well tied-down sails. It was a shame the wind was blowing at them instead of with them; with its power she could put the engines on coast and be out of this pass in nothing flat.

"I feel well enough to copilot again. So, Abe and Violet, when you are finished join me on the bridge and we will get this escape underway," she said, standing slowly.

*****************************************************************************

The sunrise woke Krieger, he smiled when he felt the steady and rapid pace of the train. They had traveled all night at hurtling speeds, Heaven had held up fine, and given the amount of ground they had covered, it was possible they just might catch them before they left the pass. Feeling jovial, he dressed. Seeking out Markov, he headed for the dining car. As he suspected, Markov was amidst a huge breakfast when he arrived, meat grease making his chin shine.

"Good morning Herr Markov, I must say I am very impressed with your fuel, we are nearly halfway through Velletri. We should reach your outpost by midday, and if my thinking is correct, the pirate will not be flying at night, not with the wind and storms. So, if luck is on our side, before this day is through, we may have them," he said, picking up a mini blueberry muffin.

He nodded; his mouth crammed with food.

"I'm pleased you are enjoying your ride aboard Heaven. Not many do," he said with a smile.

"I will send a message to Gregor to let him know of our progress and the possibility of bagging his prize," he added, popping the muffin into his mouth.

Nodding to the man who was still trying to clear his mouth to speak, he left the car with a spring in his step.

*****************************************************************************

Sybil swore silently as the rose to nearly the top of the pass. The wind was screaming, tossing the ship wildly from side to side.

"There is no way we are going to be able to go up this high. We are going to have to go back under the lip to hopefully allow it to act as a buffer to these winds," she said to Violet and Abe who were together holding them in a hover, the wheel held in white-knuckled grips.

Violet nodded, relieved. She would rather have it take longer and possibly face running into a Templar squad then having the ship thrown about like a rag doll in those winds.

They dropped twenty feet as a huge clap of thunder deafened them.

"Of course, it's going to storm," Sybil said with a glare at the puffy gray clouds.

"Take her down again, another twenty, and then let's go as fast as we can. If it starts to snow, we will have to land and wait it out. I want to gain every inch we can before we lose daylight," she said, her tone defeated; the pass was starting to get to her.

Sybil was not big on small places. She would never admit it of course, pirates had no fears. However, the looming storm, was closing in. Every drop put them further into its crushing embrace, dislodged rocks pinging off her brass sides.

Every nerve in her body was alive with the need to soar into the open sky where she was free. Choking it down, she took a deep breath, fixing her eyes on the path in front of them. When she spoke, she would make sure to keep her tone calm, it would not do for the crew to know their captain was claustrophobic.

Another clap of thunder, bringing a shriek from Violet and a shudder from Orion, who was tucked deep into Sybil's coat pocket. He was not a fan of the cold or the noise.

"Sorry," Violet said, returning to the wheel.

"Startled me is all," she added.

"The snow will come soon, I fear." Abraham said, his eyes scanning the bloated clouds.

"I know you don't want to hear this, but I'm going to suggest we find a place to set her all the way down and anchor before the snow starts to fall. That way if it's a heavy fall, it does not take us out of the sky. But if it's a light fall, we can start again safely," Abe said, scanning the map Lucy held for him trying to place their current position on it.

"I don't want Templar to catch up with us," Sybil said, unable to explain how much she would rather face a blinding snowstorm than stay trapped between these gray cliffs any longer.

"The storm will affect them too, I imagine. We have the underdecks and cabin to go to, plus the boilers to keep us warm. They are on foot, and at most have a tank and a couple of jeeps, so they will also have to seek shelter," Lucy said, turning the map around to face her.

"If we can make it another two miles, there is a huge widening of the pass. We should be able to set her on the ground no problem," she added.

Sybil looked ahead. They had, at most, eight miles left to the end of the pass. She knew they could make it before daylight faded, even if they had to push a bit at the end. They could be free of the pass soon. The idea of stopping and waiting made her nerves raw.

As she formed her rebuttal in her mind, snowflakes drifted down on her. Thick, fat flakes, almost cartoonish in size, landed on her head and shoulders.

"Let's get to that clearing, faster," she said, keeping her back turned to those following her orders. Her fear at being closed in had now shifted to anger at being forced to do something by circumstance. She viewed herself the mistress of the sky. No matter what it had thrown at her, she had always managed to keep going. Now, she had so many lives to worry about.  
It was not just her and Violet racing some major rainstorm or dodging steam spouts in rural Sadovka. She had a crew, and for better or for worse, they were hers to protect.

Moments after they landed safely, and with no new dents or dings, the clouds unleashed their bounty. Thick sheets of driven snow coming at them, nearly horizontal in the raging winds. They huddled in the captain's quarters, wrapped in blankets and thankful that the boilers kept residual heat in the pipes, warming the room to tolerable.

Ching passed around tea, settling beside Josiah, who was awake but still rather groggy.

The wind moaned around them as the snow piled on, soon covering the main deck.

"Well this is cozy . . . forced bonding," Sybil said with a chuckle.

Laughter filled the cabin for a minute but died quickly. Everyone was uneasy, for many different reasons.

"I never thought I would see snow. My father used to tell us stories about the great snowbird who would bring winter to the lands, covering the world with her beautiful white feathers so it could rest for planting in the spring. It was a beautiful story and it's hard to believe with the cries of that wind, that this is the beautiful snow he spoke of," Violet said, studying her cup.

Sybil smiled. It was not often Violet spoke of her home, or her family, as she'd mourned them on the farm. A small grave under an oak tree, was, for a while, her sacred spot. She would sit and talk to the stone she had erected. Sybil had never intruded; Violet's wounds were deep and only time could heal those.

"He speaks the truth; although, I think the time of those gentle, heavy snow falls, blanketing the world in crisp whiteness, dampening her sounds, and bringing wonder to man has ended. This I believe to be part of Gaia's revenge; the wind, her cries at the destruction of her natural beauty by our greed," Mary said softly.

Everyone nodded, the mood of the room heavy.

"If it helps at all, these storms, while violent and prolific with snow . . . they are usually bursts, so it shouldn't last the entire day. We might be able to get a couple of more miles in before dark," Josiah said, looking up from the weather log he had borrowed from the Templar station.

"Once the winds stop, I will go light the boilers. That should melt everything on the deck," Violet said.

"Oh! I forgot to mention that I borrowed one of the Templar radios from the base. We might be able to hear those guys who were following us if they get close," Constantine said, digging around in a crate.

"If they are following us, I mean. In their eyes, we might be taking care of offing ourselves for them by coming through here. They have us trapped. If we try to double back, they will be at the entrance with the tank," Abe said.

"But I still think it couldn't hurt to monitor the radio waves. Lot of information gets passed on the Templar bands. If nothing else, we might be able to find out how much they know," Josiah said, noting the crestfallen look on the shadow's face. He had come to love the boy as much as Jia had. It was rather sad that he knew and loved a child that was not his far better than the other two who were.

The Templar radio crackled to life just as they were lifting off again. The storm had lasted over an hour, which felt like ten to those waiting inside. An impromptu snowball fight had commenced when they ventured out.

No one would admit to starting it, but Sybil knew it had been Josiah throwing a snowball at his wife that had started the melee. The pass had rung with laughter and for a few brief moments, they were not on the run. A bond was growing among their odd pack of misfits. The girls and even Violet were starting to warm up to Josiah. He did have a charm about him. Even Lucy, who's heart they had buried in Sadovka, smiled and laughed as she dodged snowballs.

The crackle came again causing Sybil to jump. They were rising slowly, a few precious hours of daylight remained, and she intended to make it as far as she could.

"Hook . . . pass . . . hostages . . . dead or alive . . .," came through with an incredible amount of the message being lost to the crackle of static that rose and fell like waves.

"Hey Captain, it looks like you're famous," Constantine said with a grin.

"Yeah, with all the wrong people," she replied with a grin.

They cruised along silently; the pass rocks all covered in a deep blanket of snow.

"I think we can set down right by the edge of the pass. I know you wanted to get all the way out, but this might work in our favor. There is a deep drainage gully right before the two very narrow walls that lead out. We will be able to set down, and then a couple of us can go through on foot, measure, and make sure we will even make it through, or if we are going to have to fight the wind and go over. It also means we can get gauge about what is on the side," Lucy said. She had become quite interested and adept at reading maps and had become the navigator.

Sybil chewed the side of her lip, an old nervous habit she had worked very hard to break.

"Yes, okay. As long as it does not snow again, we will be able to switch over to steam, which could give us more power in the wind and will preserve our water," she replied nodding.

There was more than two hours left until sundown when Violet expertly settled the Valkyrie into the deep gully, her belly crushing rocks beneath it.

"You get any better at that and you won't need me at all," Sybil said with a wink.

"Oh, please. My heart was in my throat the entire time. I have no idea how you are so calm at the controls. I'll stick to emergency pilot, if you don't mind," Violet said, sticking her tongue out.

"Okay, who wants to go see what's on the other side?" Josiah asked, gesturing to the deep, dark, and terribly skinny looking passage before them.

"I will go," Lucy said.

"That way, I can add to the map and get measurements," she said, rolling up the map and sticking it into the satchel she had borrowed from general storage.

"I'll go as well, in case we run into anything like last time," Ching said.

"I guess I'd better tag along as well, given that I've got a weapon," Abe said, holstering the old-fashioned revolver.

One thing Templar still had was guns, bullets, and gun powder. It was strictly rationed and used only in cases of dire need, which Abe figured this counted as.

"Try to be back before the sun goes down," Sybil said, settling into her chair beside the wheel. She was doing better but she still tired easily and while she had truly wanted to clear the pass before the end of the day, she was pleased to be able to rest for a while.

They all nodded, and, in a few minutes, they disappeared over the side, four bundled shapes making their way down into the gathering gloom.

Asha and Jia held hands, each murmuring prayers of protection for those they loved.

"So, honestly . . . neither of you has ever been to the other side?" Lucy asked, her voice echoing slightly in the dried riverbed. It was easy to see this pass was being eroded by the snow, rocks were worn smooth and deep grooves had begun to appear in the ground.

"I've never even been to the front of the pass," Abe said, shooting a glance at Josiah. He was a little annoyed that he had not heard about Josiah being part of an exile trip. That was way outside their normal duties.

"I have been to the mouth of it, but that's it. So, no. I've never seen the other side," Josiah replied, feeling the eyes of his friend and his daughter probing his expression for untruth.

"There is no way the Valkyrie is going to fit through here," Lucy said, standing at what looked to be the narrowest point. "It would be close up to here, but there is no way she's going to make it. We are going to have to go up and over this part, but from what I can tell it opens up further ahead, so we might only have to fight the wind for a little bit," Lucy said.

The wind whipped past them, a deep melancholy moan rising from the rocks as it threaded its way through them. It brought a bitter chill, causing Lucy to shiver violently.

"If that came from where we're headed, I think we can assume it's just as cold on the other side," she said.

They plodded on in silence, each afraid of what they would find as the end of the pass drew ever nearer.

"I smell saltwater," Abe said, moving a bit faster. His parents had taken him to Maryland for a family vacation one year. He had loved the ocean, the smell of the salt, and sand. He smiled as the memory of a week spent enjoying the simple pleasures of the beach played through his mind.

"Well, that means the water is liquid and not frozen, so that's a start," Josiah said, a tone of forced cheerfulness in his voice.

He was tired and his back hurt. He had no idea what lay less than a mile ahead now. If it truly was terrible and they were indeed cornered, he knew it was on him. He hated being wrong.

Trailing the pack and looking mostly at his feet he ran full force into Abe, who was standing behind Ching and Lucy, who were lost in awe at the view from the end of the pass.

It was still cold, the landscape held snowy rocks, but beyond that stretched the ocean. Deep, dark blue, choppy waves that collided with each other, dispersing into sea foam before being whipped up again.

"It's beautiful," Lucy said softly.

"This, ladies . . . is the ocean. I can't tell you anymore which ocean, since all of that got a might jumbled; but, nearly seventy-five percent of our little blue marble planet is covered in it," Abe said as he smiled. He had missed the water. No matter where he had gone with Templar, they had never done the edges. The rim in Pendergrass lay beyond the dessert and no one really braved those.

"Did you hear something?" a voice said from around the edge of the pass.

"No, what would there be to hear?" a second voice answered.

"I don't know, but it sounded like voices. I'm going to go check it out, might be the air pirate," the first voice said again with the sound of boots hitting the ground.

"Time to hide," Josiah whispered, dashing back into the narrow part of the pass, looking for a recess in the wall or a large batch of rocks to hide behind.

Moments after they had secured hiding places, two heavily armed Templar employees made their way into the pass.

"I see nothing," the second said after a long look around.

"There is no way they are that close already. Even if they are flying, the wind will slow them down. By then, hopefully the Menglan and Markov will be here, and all we will have to do is clean up what's left," he added.

The first man nodded but continued to look, his eyes roving over the rocks, determined to find some reason for the sound. Finding nothing, he grunted before turning his back on them.

"Crazy to think they thought they could get away this way. Nothing awaits them out there but death and hungry animals," the first said, walking back the way he came.

Once he was sure they were gone, Josiah blinked his head lamp twice, bringing the others to his location.

"I think it's in our best interest to head back now and share what we know," he whispered.

"He said the Menglan, Krieger, is coming. He's coming for Sybil," Lucy said, her voice barely determinable over the wind, which had decided to remind them of its bite.

"Over my dead body," Abe replied. Slipping his harm around Lucy, they headed back towards the ship at a hurried pace. Things had just become even more complicated.

It was pitch black by the time they made it back to the ship. It looked terribly out of place, the bright polish of the brass against the gray stone. There were no lights above deck and the curtains had been drawn. A few slivers of golden light snuck through, casting large looming shadows.

"I'll tell her," Abe said as they all stood outside the cabin door. He had been waiting for her at the farmhouse after the tale of her capture and escape had reached him. She had been down for nearly two weeks, covering and cleaning her eye. There had been fear she might lose it as the swelling became intense; but she had pulled through and he would be dammed if he allowed that man to ever lay a hand on her again.

Opening the door slowly, and despite the news he carried, he found himself smiling. They were all in there, making for a tight fit without the additional four. Sybil sat on her bed. He could tell she'd been mid-story as her hands were poised in the air and a grin on her face.

Her smile faded as she saw the expressions of those who had just arrived.

"How bad is it?" she asked.

"Well, I've got the bad news, the worse news, or the really terrible news. Which would you like first?" he asked, hoping to lighten the dead, heavy hush that had filled the room.

"Well, with those options let's just go from bad to worse, shall we?" Sybil said. Abe nodded, noting she was most definitely back in charge.

"Okay, the bad news is we will not fit through the pass inside the canyon. For about a quarter of a mile, we will have to go above. The worse news is that there are Templar guards at the end of the pass, armed for a two-man war, and very jumpy," he said, noting her frown.

He paused, looking at Violet, who was seated beside her captain. She met his eyes and placed a steadying hand on Sybil's arm.

"The truly terrible part is, the Menglan and Markov are headed here, and they seem to be expected soon," he said, watching Sybil's frown turn into a scowl.

"Violet, I want you and Constantine to meet me in the engine room. I intend to do the conversion and pipe the shine into it. If at all possible, I'd like to bust out of here, fly over the end of the pass and the armed goons, and onward to—," she paused, realizing none of the bad news had contained any kind of information about what was on the other side.

"The ocean. It's cold, at least near the shore, but it's so beautiful," Lucy replied.

"One of the few times I have actually wished the Valkyrie could float," she said, slipping her good arm into the sleeve of her favorite coat. It was military surplus, likely Navy from the colors, and it struck Josiah with a touch of irony.

"Josiah, can you and a couple of people bring the steam cannons up and get them in place? I'd lash them down if you can, they have a ton of kickback."

"Aye aye, Captain."

*****************************************************************************

Krieger stood in the engine room. It was a place he rarely visited. He had little to no idea how to run the train and it was always hot. But now, he stood, his body taught with excitement, pressed up against the front window. The speed was exhilarating, the scenery was a blur, it was impossible to identify where they were other than in Velletri and that was incredible. He loved Heaven; the train had given him so much freedom. He moved unobstructed through all the Imperiums. Travel was not necessarily slow, but it was nothing like this. He could cross Imperiums in a day, instead of being vulnerable in the barren areas he could speed through them, never again facing an attack from the outsiders.

He still hated Markov. He represented gluttony and pride, Krieger's least favorite sins; although, truth be told, he was often guilty of hubris himself. It's not a sin if it's justified, he told himself.

He wanted so much to open the window, to feel the air pulling at him at this speed. They had reached nearly one hundred miles per hour; he could feel the pull of the force in his bones. He had always loved trains; but this, this was incredible, and Markov would give him more. He knew at that moment, as they shot out of the trees past the dark water of some forgotten lake, that no one would ever get away from him again.

A tap on the shoulder drew him from his thoughts, a pulse of rage filling him. He hated being interrupted. He swung around, ready to release his rage, only to see Eli standing before him, silent, his eyes blank. It would give him no pleasure to scream at him, his lack of reaction always left him angrier than before.

"What?" he snapped.

The man held out a telegram, the paper brown and slightly crumpled; they had long ago switched to hemp for paper products, realizing how precious the remaining trees were. Without them, the air might be overwhelmed by carbon dioxide and other horrible things floating around in a nuclear world. As many had said in the Before Times, trees were the lungs of the planet; unfortunately. it took near annihilation for that to become common belief.

He took it, waving the man off. He read it several times, just to be sure as the elation filled him. Asha and Lucy had been seen. The ship was inside the pass but had not yet made it out. They had a chance. He closed his eyes. For the first time in a long time, he was not in need of his Aether to keep the hounds of depression at bay. This time, organic happiness had found him.

Standing a moment longer in the engine room, he closed his eyes, feeling the hum of the metal as the fuel drove it ever faster, hurtling them towards a future he had only dreamed of. But now it was more than a dream, he would rescue his love; he may even tell her of Gregor's plan, if required, to sway her. He would convince her of his protection, of his love, of a life outside Gregor's rule. He cared nothing for the serum, and only pride made him care about the Hook woman. Let them all go out to the ocean. They could drown in its acidic depths or be devoured by whatever monsters now lurked in its shadowy underground.

Asha, and Lucy if she insisted, would join him aboard Heaven, and all would be as it should have been. Krieger smiled and began to whistle as he made his way back to Markov's car. He would let him play along; he needed his men and his supplies as it was not possible to take Heaven into the pass, as much as he would have loved to go zipping through the rocks, hot on the tail of the most wanted woman in the Imperiums. Which, to some was Sybil, but to him would always be Asha.

*********************************************************************

Sunrise on their third day in the pass dawned like a brick in Sybil's gut. She sat up, glancing around at the sleeping bodies, refraining the urge to shout get up at them. They all wanted to be free of the pass, and it was not that anyone could make it go faster, but the moments had begun to creep. Every quiet hour spent surrounded by the bleak soulless peaks made her twitch. Pacing had helped for a while, but that could not be done in her quarters. Every available space held a person, some scrunched into places she could not imagine as comfortable. Her foot quietly tapped as she sat, trying not wake the others who would need all the rest they could get.

Lucy sat up, looked around, and smiled when she met Sybil's eyes. Tilting her head towards the door, she stood silently before picking her way through the bodies as Sybil followed. The sun was filtering down the pass towards them.

"At least the sun still rises and sets in the same place," Lucy said, stretching before sitting on the third stair.

"It does make things a lot easier. We have to rely completely on celestial navigation when we fly, it's impossible to use any of the landmarks that were printed on maps," Sybil replied, settling in her on deck chair. Once she was better, she would never allow that thing to clutter up the deck; but given the ache in her arm, for now it was a blessing.

"I've noticed you are quite good with navigation, and I appreciate you stepping up and helping," Sybil said, taking a long look at the woman who was her sister.

"It's exhilarating. The flying, the freedom, you truly answer to no one," she said, smiling.

"I have to agree, I know mother would have preferred if I had kept my feet on the ground, but she never tried to stop me, she understood me," Sybil said, looking away as she felt tears spring to her eyes.

"I'm sorry that you lost her. It seems life was the most unfair to you. But that's why you are the strongest, most likely the smartest too," she said.

"I don't know about all that. Ching never writes down a formula. Never. It's all in her head, like a chemistry textbook. You lived with Gregor, that alone requires genius level smarts just to still be alive," Sybil replied

"Not to mention that thing you do; you know . . . with your voice," she added.

"Ah yes, they call it the Lucy effect in the palace. I dunno if that requires much brain power, it just happens. I've even managed to put Gregor to sleep with it," she said with a grin.

"I'm going to add that to our arsenal of weapons." Sybil said.

"If you know your constellations, I can have Violet teach you the celestial navigation. She's a whiz at it and I would love to have you as the ship's navigator," Sybil offered. It was rather clear that they were all going to be together awhile, and they didn't have a choice about being related. So, like any good captain she wanted a top-notch crew.

"Really? That would be amazing! Between you and me, no matter what we find out there, I'm never going back to Sadovka. There is nothing there for me now," she said, pulling her long hair around the front of her shoulder in order to begin to braid it.

"If we live through this, that is," she added with a wink.

"Well, I can't promise you that we will live through this. I can't promise you we are not rushing to our own doom at the fastest pace we can manage. But what I can tell you is, you are a member of my crew now, and that means you always have a home on the Valkyrie," she said, unable to contain her own wide grin as one appeared on Lucy.

"Thank you, Captain, I have to say, you are far more charming and dashing than your wanted posters let on," she said, and they both laughed.

"Now that's a sound I like waking up to, " Asha said as she exited the cabin. She looked between the two women and was surprised to no longer see what she had termed as children. They were young, powerful women, smart, and dangerous. This may have not been the road she had imagined for Lucy, but it was quite clear she was flourishing here.

"Good morning Asha," Sybil said, her mood helping her forget the itch of the healing skin on her arm.

"Sleep well?" Lucy asked.

"As well as can be expected when cuddling a wardrobe," she said with a grin.

"Ah yes . . . I admit it did not occur to me that I would need space for this many people, especially long term," Sybil replied.

"Remember the time we had five prisoners, two chickens, and a goat in there?" Violet said, joining them on deck, stretching.

Sybil laughed.

"Yeah I do, that goat ate one of my favorite coats," she replied.

"Okay, the prisoners I get, but I'm a little unclear on why you were saving farm animals," Ching said, settling in on the step to the right of Lucy.

"Oh, that whole mission was a mess from start to finish. We were raiding this old hospital in Pendergrass, almost to the dessert that borders the California region. Usually, those things have been looted completely and often have people living in them. But this one was remote. We were hoping for some iv tubing, maybe some meds. Even expired meds were better than none to a lot of the Voids, and especially the Nulls, who never received vaccinations," Sybil paused.

For a moment, everyone on deck considered their privilege. They were marked, protected, some more so than others, but each had a layer that kept them safe, a little bit of ink that could mean the difference between life and death.

"But what we blundered into was a civil land dispute between a group of Voids and a Templar squad. Twenty of them, armed to the teeth, being held off by a group of Spanish grandmothers who were launching fermented eggs and hot oil at them," Violet said, picking up the story.

Abe chuckled softly, alerting those present that he had joined them.

"I would not want to have to write that up," he said.

"Well it was only a matter of time before they ran out of ammo and given the fury on the face of their commanding officer, they would have been slaughtered. So, we tossed down some smoke canisters we had borrowed from a non-Templar former military base. I hovered and Violet went down the hatch to the rescue." Sybil explained.

"If only you could have seen the look on her face when I came back up the rope ladder with a goat over my shoulders." Violet said, dissolving into laughter.

"It seemed that the abuelas would not leave without their chickens, or goat, and given that the smoke bombs only bought us a short time, Violet made the right call. We lifted off and went into hover a few miles away," Sybil said.

"Best part of all that?" Violet said, wiping a tear from her eye.

"Was you trying to speak Spanish and convince them to relocate," Violet said.

"Well, it worked. Sort of. I'm still not sure why they felt the need to pray over me constantly," she said with a shrug.

"My guess? It might have been the language you used while we were dodging projectiles," Violet replied.

Everyone chuckled.

"So, where did they end up?" Asha asked.

"I took them up north a bit, sill in the California territory. There is a Void colony up there, I figured they might be more at home with the older folks since not one of them was younger than sixty, if I had to guess," she said.

"There is a whole world of those outside the system. isn't there?" Abe asked. He knew there were outsiders, sure, like he told the General. He had assumed it was the fringe, conspiracy nuts, those who struggled with societal expectations. Templar designated them bandits and they were shoot on sight, which Abe had always found odd. How could you tell if they were marked or not from far away? Sure, they might be in a known bandit area, but it seemed wasteful to him, both of bullet and of life, simply to shoot someone who might be an undesirable. Plus, the procedure manual said they were to be taken captive, given the offer of a number before execution or worse, exile.

"Who do you think we care for?" Ching asked in response.

"Sybil and I, Constantine, Ant Man, all of us are here for the Nulls, the Voids, the Ghosts, whatever moniker was given those who chose not to be counted. Those are our people, the forgotten and unwanted," Ching said, crossing her arms over herself.

Abe studied the sunrise a long moment.

"Privilege has a way, a way of making things seem different than they are. I assumed and witnessed the poor. Money may have changed names and appearance, but it still exists, and is rarely doled out equally. I never stopped and gave thought that so many would be outside the system. How they have survived without Templar is incredible," he said softly.

"Because they want us to believe Templar is the only way," Josiah said, startling those on deck.

"They need us to believe that we require them to survive. For them, the end justifies the means. Killing, exiling, pushing those who will not submit to the edges of the earth and calling them criminals, infestations, vermin. It's the language of power. In training you are taught to see those who resist as bad, damaged, or less than human. Then no one bats an eye when a Templar squad attacks old women, children, those who are simply different and refuse to be a cog in the machine," he said, his tone solemn.

"We don't see because we don't want to. I don't think all the guys at Templar are bad, but they are conditioned. Templar means survival and when you get down to the basest nature of the human being, survival is vital. Our bodies and brains will fight with everything we have simply to keep breathing another day. So, we accept the truths, the creeds, the necessary evils of looking the other way sometimes," he said, glancing at Violet.

It had been one thing to know of the brothel rings in the abstract, but this brilliant young women before him, a woman who had risked her life to save his when he never gave a second thought to the safety of those girls, planted a brick of guilt in his gut.

The air was heavy as the rest of the crew filed out of the cabin, some blinking at the brightness of the sun as it warmed them.

"I've made a great many mistakes in the name of Templar glory; I've taken supplies we really didn't need to make the locals rely on our convoys. I've lied with no remorse to women begging my help, claiming not to have the medicine needed while Markov sits like a bloated tumor on top of hundreds of lifesaving doses. No more. Even if there is nothing out there and I die, it will be with my eyes open and sorry for the pain I've helped cause," he said, his eyes affixed to the blazing sun cutting its way through the passage.

"I'm all with you for sticking it to Markov, but I'd like to avoid the dying part if no one else minds," Violet said, bringing a chuckle and release of tension to the deck.

"It's time to go. I have a plan though, and it may be a little nuts, but most of my plans generally are," Sybil said as she rose. The pain went up and down her body in the form of a violent shiver, which caused her to convulse slightly.

"You okay boss?" Violet said, instantly at her side.

"Yeah, pain is weird," was all she said before mounting the steps to the bridge.

"Violet, I need you to drive. Abe, get the canons loaded. I have at least twenty shots worth of steam per; let's hope that's enough. I'm going to land on the beach when we reach the impassible part. I will go up and over and come down on their doorstep. When we hit that ground, the only people I want above deck are myself and Lucy. I'm going to need you to do that thing you do on the guards. You can play hostage, there to negotiate for the release of you and your mother. I doubt goons this low will know anything about the serum. Just do whatever you need to do to convince them they would rather take a long nap than shoot at us. I want to spend as little amount of time on the ground as we can. If Markov and the Menglan are close, we stand a much better chance above them," she said.

"You can do that?" Josiah asked, looking at Lucy.

"Yeah, I can," she said with a grin, mounting the steps to stand beside Sybil.

"They are the super soldiers, the whole reason for the RD project, the prodigies Markov wished to harness to further his control. He may be a fool, and it will not work in his favor, but he did indeed get what he was after," Josiah said meeting Jia's eyes.

"I'm sorry you went about making them the way you did. More so for Asha and especially for Sybil, who ended up alone, than myself, but they are what's going to save us," Jia said, slipping her hand into his.

Chapter 18

Markov answered the summons, surprised that Krieger had sent for him. He knew the man disliked him, and the feeling was mutual. There was a fine line between madness and brilliance, Krieger took that line and wore it proudly like your best Sunday suit. Markov never viewed himself as anything but brilliant. He could not see the similarity between himself and the man he chose to hate. Markov sought control, peace, harmony, a world where there would never again be nuclear holocausts, a simple life where he sat on top of his horde and all the little ants scurried to expand his wealth. Krieger was death. His experiments and monstrosities were not progress, they were a degradation of morality. Markov knew he stood on the right side of history; unfortunately, it was at times necessary to contract the services of those who trafficked in evil to accomplish the greater good. Now was one of those times. Plastering on the realest smile he could manage, he swung open the door to the observation car.

When this had been a passenger train, this room might have been full of children, marveling at the world zipping past them, running and playing while exhausted parents sat in the cushioned chairs, knowing that in their small contained world, they would be safe.

But now all it held was a very old man, his hair long and silver, and the rounding of the top of his spine spoke to the years he had endured. He was Gregor's twin, identical once, but years of different lifestyles had removed some of the similarities. Krieger always had dark purple bruise, like shadows, under his eyes, and deep lines furrowed his forehead, both of which their pampered lord and leader never had.

"Ah Herr Markov, thank you so much for joining me. We will be at the end of the Velterrian tracks in less than an hour. I have a Jeep on board but hopefully you have a faster way to get through. A telegram from your men at the edge say the ship has not passed them. They also report a very large storm that may have caused them to have to land and lose travel time. It appears that luck is on our side," he said, settling down at an empty table. The cloth was a pristine white, not a crease to be seen.

Sterile, Markov thought. He wanted to get angry that the man was reading his personal messages, but it was to be expected. He doubted any information was secret on this train.

"The platoon that has taken over the base has a tank and several Jeeps, they will have more fuel, but I have no others that will go any faster than a Jeep in the pass; not to mention there are mines along the sides to discourage the prisoners from climbing. So, while fast might be what you prefer, we will have to drive with care," he said, sitting down across from the man.

Eli arrived with a brunch tray. It was very hard sometimes to tell time aboard this train, especially when the sun was hidden in the dense forest areas. His stomach rumbled.

Krieger smiled. It was obviously a forced, polite smile that you put on for people you would rather punch than talk to, but a smile none the less.

"Well I guess that will have to do; I hope your men can do a decent job of delaying them until we arrive. I would hate to fail so close to the goal," he said, spooning eggs onto his plate.

"They are heavily armed and aware of what's coming, given what happened at the base. I also had them string up the high-tension wire in the pass, to keep them from going over the top," he said. Krieger held up a hand to stop him.

"Yes, you had mentioned some kind of event at your outpost, care to elaborate?" he asked.

Markov grimaced as he placed the sausages on his plate.

"It may not be the best conversation for mealtime, and until more information comes in, I'm not even really sure what happened," he said, Krieger nodding along. He had read all the frantic telegrams that had arrived and knew that most of Markov's men had not just been murdered, they had been eaten. and while he knew the air pirate was dangerous, he did not think she was a cannibal.

"You know, I will take this moment to offer my sincere amazement that you and Gregor still manage to use the telegraph lines. I mean, after all, they are electric," he said, leaving his meaning hanging.

No one, not even Gregor, had access to electrical power. No matter what they tried, they could not produce much more than an arc, and even that could not be stored. The world ran on steam, but Krieger had long believed that Markov had found a way to harness solar power, perhaps even wind. It was nowhere near as efficient or far reaching as current had once been, but it opened multiple opportunities.

Markov shrugged.

"I'm not sure Gregor would appreciate me saying this, but I don't know why they work. Enoch, you remember him, the preacher man? He built this thing, buried it at the main telegraph hub we set up in Vellteri, and . . . it works. I've debated digging it up to try to reverse engineer it, but Gregor thinks I might damage it and cripple our communications, so we leave it alone. Until it no longer works," he said, with a shrug quickly putting away almost twice the amount of food Krieger ate in a full day, in one meal.

"Interesting. Yes, I remember him, a big help to the two of you, if I remember correctly. Whatever happened to him? Still seeking the true maw in your prison?" Krieger asked, smirking as he saw panic in Markov's eyes.

"He's dead. Been so a couple of years from what I hear," he replied, pushing back from the table.

"I'll be ready to roll when we hit the depot," he said, leaving without another word.

Krieger sat back, his hands steepled before him. He doubted very much that Enoch was dead, he was not entirely sure the man was human. Not that he believed in a higher, or lower power, if you followed the old ways. But there was something about that man. When he spoke, everyone listened. He had given them great and seemingly unexplainable gifts to forward civilization and asked nothing in return.

Krieger sat a moment longer, watching the thick trees start to give way to the open countryside that led up to the edge of the world. He did not believe that Templar lie to be true either.

*************************************************************************

"Start pulling up to go overhead, we have about three hundred feet to the narrow spot," Abe yelled down and received a thumbs up from Sybil who had one of her hands on the wheel beside Violet's.

"The wind is likely to be brutal up there, I'm going to switch Abe out for Josiah so he can help us hold the wheel," Sybil said.

With less than one hundred feet to a portion of the pass that would without doubt crush them, the nose of the Valkyrie made her way upwards. Now it was just them and the last two craggy peaks that guarded the edge. They stood like sentinels with plenty of room to pass in between, but the longer Sybil looked at them the louder the feeling in her gut said to stay away.

"Do you feel that?" Lucy said, appearing beside Sybil suddenly, shouting to be heard over the howl of the wind as its icy fingers pulled relentlessly at their bodies.

"I do," Ching said, appearing on the other side of Violet.

"I don't know what that is, but everything in me is screaming not to go through those peaks," Sybil said, pulling them into a close huddle to try to lessen the winds damage, both on sound and their severely chapped faces.

"Same. There is something there, something wrong," Ching said, stumbling for the words to describe her feelings. Constantine called those feelings her hunches. More than once they had narrowly escaped capture or worse because of the feeling in Ching's gut. She guessed now it had something to do with her parentage and sisters, but it was growing so strong she felt the need to vomit.

"Okay, so we go around, right or left?" Sybil asked, looking to Ching, whose face had gone ashen and looked like her breakfast may soon grace their shoes.

"Left, but that will require us to go higher and they will see us. If they have guns and since they know we are coming, we may get shot at," Ching said, huddling tight to her sisters as they lent their strength to Violet to keep them as still as possible in hover.

"So . . . they see us, they shoot at us . . . it's a whole lot better than whatever is in between them," Lucy said, twisting a piece of her hair violently around her finger. She was agitated, they all were. Sybil felt phantom ants crawling up and down the nerves in her legs.

Sybil took out her telescope, studying the peaks, looking for something that would explain the flashing danger signs in her brain. They looked normal, even the wind seemed to be less between them. It was the ideal passage for her ship and granted them the element of surprise as they could drop straight in.

She shook her head, feeling bile rise in her throat as she considered going through them. Looking to the left, she saw thick, heavy snow clouds, ones they would have to plow through and who knew what was on the other side. It could be a wall of solid rock, a gun turret or an ambush of men ready to leap aboard. The right put them over open water if her guess about the curve was correct, While not the worst possibility, it would put them in the open to be shot at as they arched back around to land.

"Okay, so we go left. Put everyone on alert, I have no idea what those snow clouds are hiding and given we have no choice but to find out, I'd like everyone to be ready," she said, pointing out the course to Violet.

Placing her telescope back in her pocket, she withdrew her hand in shock. Blood fell freely from her fingertips and it took her a moment to realize Orion had bitten her. Sticking her fingers in her mouth, she peered into the pocket only to be hissed at.

"Someone is unhappy," Ching said, pulling two small bandages from one of her many pockets.

"He's never bitten me before, something about this place has put us all on edge," she replied.

"Well, no . . . not all of us," Abe said, climbing down as Josiah climbed up.

"I don't feel anything but relief that we are almost free," he said with a shrug.

"Same," said Violet.

"So, whatever you feel, it's because of well . . . because you are special," Abe said with a shrug.

"Whelp, let's hope this special leads us true; otherwise, we may smash into a hidden rock face," she said, helping them ease the ship towards the outside of the passage.

The pace was maddeningly slow, the wind pushing them backwards with all its might, it seemed perhaps mother earth did not want them there as much as Templar didn't.

Pausing a moment before entering the thick clouds, Sybil squeezed Violet's hand. Violet smiled, but her eyes mirrored her own worry.

For a moment, the world vanished. The crew stood silently on the deck as they coasted into the thick cover, even the whistle of the wind was dampened. They stood in awe; the ship tucked into its thick folds. It seemed as if only they existed in this washed out world.

Sybil stood taunt, even passing beside the peaks was making her queasy as she tried to focus on what may await them on the other side of this veil.

"Do you feel that?" Lucy whispered as the knot in her stomach began to loosen.

"We made it past them. Whatever we were supposed to avoid, we did." Ching said, sucking in deep a lungful of the crisp monochrome air surrounding them.

"Pull up!" Josiah screamed from the crow's nest, causing everyone on deck to jump.

Violet slammed the lever all the way up and the ship jerked to obey. Rising quickly, flattening some to the deck, as a deep scraping sound filed the silent void, rocks angrily pinging off the sides and even onto the deck striking those as they ran for cover.

"Well, there goes the element of surprise," Sybil said under her breath as she took control of the ship. Pulling her injured arm from the sling, she let out a low growl as the skin pulled and broke beneath the bandages, on which rosettes of her blood were forming a strangely beautiful pattern.

Throwing the wheel to the right, she pulled out of the fog bank, the ships engines sputtering.

"We hit a tank; we're losing water!" Violet shouted

"No kidding," Sybil said, bringing the ship as level as she could get it. Now that the tank had been ruptured, there was no way they were going to be able to take off again without repairs. It was time to hope luck was with them still.

The ship dipped with a stomach dropping lurch as the pressure in the lines bled out.

The ship tilted to the right, unable to maintain its balance with half the engines now dead. Sybil looked up to see Josiah clinging to the mast, his body coiled tightly around the wood was the only thing keeping him from tumbling to the jagged ridge below.

"Hold on," Sybil shouted to no one in particular. Engaging the shine engine, she attempted to use its power to bring the ship vertical.

For a moment the engine surged and hope bloomed. She was going to be able to set them down, upright, and safe. But as quickly as it had risen, her hope died in the fireball of her shine engine.

The ship sputtered and convulsed before dipping lower. She could see the Templar station. It looked more like a house with a huge attached storage shed. The two men she had been told about stood agape on the shore watching as the ship twisted and turned in its agony.

"I'm so sorry baby," Sybil whispered to the ship before cutting the engines entirely. They freefell no more than fifty feet, but it was enough to cause Abe to vomit, covering himself and Constantine in flecks of hard biscuits.

They hit the ground hard. Keeling onto her left side, she came to a stop amid a deeply carved groove in the hard, cold sand.

Sybil sat against the side, her teeth gritted against the pain she forced herself to stand. They may have been shaken, but the goons were not, and she could hear approaching footsteps. Reaching into her pocket, she found Orion shivering in fear, but very much alive. He didn't bite her this time but gave his opinion in an irritate string of chatters.

Lucy began crawling towards the side, she had blood coming from her nose while a purple goose egg adorned her temple.

"I . . . got . . . them . . .," she said, struggling to stand.

"Just shoot them," Sybil said, her good will lost to the pain that threatened to overwhelm her. Black spots danced through her vision as she watched Lucy step off the ship.

"Halt!" the first one cried as Lucy staggered onto the beach, wiping the blood from her nose.

"I'm Lucy, and I need your help," she said, allowing the blood to drip as their expressions changed from anger to concern.

They rushed forward with guns lowered, one slipping his arm around her as the other regarded the ship. Nothing else like her existed in the Now Times and it was hard not to be impressed, even as she lay injured.

At that moment an angry screech emitted from the bottom of the ship, and for a moment Sybil thought her creation had cried out in pain, before Kyros, now free from his cage, sailed out of one of the holes and up into the thick, gray clouds.

"Where is your mother, the fugitives?" he asked her, walking her slowly back towards the house.

"My mother is inside. We took the captain hostage, that's why we crashed. I was trying to fly the ship on my own," she said, feeling her head clear. She put everything she had into him believing her.

"How many are there?" the second asked, raising his gun towards the deserted deck of the ship.

Lucy thought quickly. Surely the group at the beginning of the pass had seen most of them and would have communicated. Was he asking to confirm or to catch her in a lie?

"Too many," she replied, allowing her drooping eyelids to close and her body to go limp in his arms.

"Anderson! She's fainted. Come help me get her inside," he shouted.

"What about the others?" he asked, backing away slowly, his gun still raised towards the silent hulking form of the beached ship.

"Where are they going to go? Ship's busted. Markov will be here in a couple of hours. If we let her die, we will be the ones they string up alongside the air pirate," he said, his grip on Lucy slipping as she intentionally became dead weight.

"Hurry up, I'm going to drop her!" he said, struggling with his grip around the multitude of weapons he wore.

With a silent curse and one last look at the still silent ship, he rushed over to help.

The door to the house closed soundly, separating them from Lucy. Asha peered out the window, her expression furrowed.

"I'm pretty sure she was faking it, but she has one hell of a bruise on her head, so I'm not sure," Asha said softly to Jia. They, Mary, and Mardrich had made it into the cabin before the ship crashed and they lay still among piles of books and papers that had been upended.

"We have to hope she is; I'm surprised they left us here without even checking," Mardrich said, extricating himself from a large pile of blankets and clothing.

"It won't last long. Once they get Lucy settled, they will be back to round us up, ready to present to Markov with a nice, neat bow," he added, helping Mary up from the pile of maps and charts.

"Unless she can calm them, but I'm not counting on that. If we have to shoot them, so be it," said Abe as he crawled into the cabin.

"Is everyone in here okay?" he asked.

"I may be getting a bit old for this adventuring stuff, but I'm fairly sure I will live" Mardrich said

The others' nodded.

"Where is Ching?" Jia asked.

"She has Sybil down in the hold. Constantine has a broken wrist, Violet is okay, just shaken; but the captain . . . well, let's just say I'm glad Ching is the one helping her, not me," Abe said, thinking of the way Sybil had hissed at him as they scooted along the deck flat to keep from being seen.

"Josiah?" she asked quietly.

"As you know, that man has the luck. He may never want to go into the crow's nest again and he will spend quite a bit of time picking the splinters out of his body, but he is fine. Can't think of a way to get him down until we are sure the guards are not looking." Abe said, rotating his shoulder slowly. He also was getting a bit too old for this rough of an adventure.

"So, now what?" Jia asked, pleased that Ching was unhurt, but deeply worried for Sybil.

"Well, the ship will have to be repaired. After I check on you, I will need to make it to the engine room and take a damage report; but based on sound, and our fantastic landing alone, I'm going to say at least one of the engines is down, if not two. That will take time and parts, parts we may not even be able to get here," he said, running his hand over his ever-whitening stubble.

"The Menglan is coming," Mary said softly, looking at her shoes.

"As is my boss. I have no idea what to do about that," Abe said, feeling the inevitability of capture sneaking up on him.

They would all hang. Those who did not go to Heaven, that was, which he feared more than the rope.

"All they want is the serum, right? Can't we just give him that? Bargain for our lives?" Jia asked.

"That's kind of like letting the bad guys win, isn't it?" Josiah said

"How did you? " Abe asked.

"Lucy waved from the doorway. The guards are out and bound. We need to get moving and see what it's going to take to get us out of here and how soon we can be gone. I'm not giving him the serum," Josiah said, his face grim.

"Not even for the lives of your children?" she asked, crossing her arms.

"They have to be stopped," he said, sinking his hands deep into his pockets.

"Ah, small sacrifice for the greater good then?" she said, her tone hard.

"Jia, this is bigger than us. This is the fate of humanity on this planet," he said, his tone betraying his hurt.

"Maybe I don't care about the other humans. I care about Ching, Lucy, Sybil, Constantine, and Violet. We are responsible for all of this; you . . . me . . . Templar . . . they asked for none of this and now you are asking them to throw themselves on your justice grenade and it's simply not fair," Jia said, a tear escaping down her cheek.

"What do you think they would choose?" Abe said softly, looking away as seeing her hurt broke his heart.

"They are children. I don't care how special they are. They are Now Times children. Talented? Very much so, but they know so little of the world," she said, turning her back to Josiah.

"We only have a little while to get ready for the Menglan and Markov. Everyone who is uninjured should head into the house, it's warm there and we can possibly barricade it," Abe said, turning to leave. He was lost on who to side with. Jia was correct; they were just babes in the woods. But Josiah was correct in his thinking. They would all put the good of the world over personal safety. They had been raised in a brave new world and they were all the stronger for it.

*****************************************************************************

"This is intolerable," Krieger grumbled as they bounced over the terrain.

Markov smirked. Here, he was in charge, On the ground, headed into danger was his world, or it had been once. One too many good meals had made his fit behind the steering wheel a little snugger than he would have liked.

"The pass is not supposed to be an easy place. I remind you; this is where we shove people off into whatever is out there," he said

"Is there really nothing out there? All the continents? Islands? It's all gone?" he asked, doubting very much that Markov knew for certain.

"Well, the only thing we know that survived is Australia, and we believe part of New Zealand may have crashed into it, expanding the land mass. But I'd be surprised if any of those we set afloat actually made it there," he replied.

"When was the last time the ocean was tested for radiation?" he continued. If they had made it to the ocean, he needed to know the risks.

"I have no idea; it's never seemed relevant. I know that in Velletri they managed to find some mostly clean, stable water, even some fish with only three or four eyes," he replied with a shrug.

He much preferred the populace being trapped; locked on their new world, trapped into rule and law with no other options.

Krieger closed his eyes. The constant jolting and bouncing were greatly upsetting his stomach and all his medications to ease it were back aboard Heaven. I should have put some in my bag, he thought, glancing at the old-fashioned medical bag, its leather smooth and polished.

"Any word from the men at the end?" he asked.

Markov swallowed his annoyance. He had no desire to listen to or respond to this man's never-ending questions, but truth was he needed the Doctor to subdue his soon-to-be prisoners.

"They check in every couple of hours, the last was right before we started in. No sign of the pirate. We may even run into them along the way," he replied, looking to the three soldiers in the back. Plus, the two at the end, and himself, and Krieger, they had seven. He doubted whoever was on that ship could stand up to seven attackers, especially with hostages. It did not matter how good this woman was, or thought she was. They would all be swinging from the end of the rope, much sooner than later.

*****************************************************************************

Sybil, Violet, and Abe stood silently before the belly of the Valkyrie. There were dozens of deep, long scrapes, dents, and dings. Those could be pounded out, or better yet, removed, remolded, and replaced. But the problem was the hole; all four of them to be exact. A few feet from where the mine had punched through were two very large holes. One of them was idly leaking steam from the punctured boiler.

Two more were near the prow of the ship. The figure head also had a few holes, but she held steady. Tears rolled down Sybil's cheeks. She'd had many close calls, many scrapes, and more than few dents and small holes, but nothing like this. Each one was easily large enough to put her entire body through.

"I'm sorry Captain," Violet said, swiping at her own tears. This ship was their home away from home and now she had been gutted. The surf pounded softly against the sand behind them, the waves cresting with tiny foam caps, laying bright against the icy metallic blue of the water.

Sybil nodded. Ching had completely immobilized her arm after spending nearly an hour cleaning the skin and getting the blood to stop.

"Can it be fixed?" Abe asked, Jia's words echoing in his head. They really were so young; brave, and brilliant, yes . . . but so young.

"I could rebuild her if all I had left was a single sheet of brass. The problem is not the holes. It's my arm, and lack of supplies and time," she said, pacing over to examine the hole in the boiler.

"Also, the shine engine is totally shot. I have no idea why it's been behaving so badly, but we can pretty much count it out of action. The boiler needs a patch, and I need a couple new pipes. At home in the barn with two working hands, tools, and supplies, I could have her back up in the air in a day, two at most. But since I am here, injured, and without supplies, I . . . I just don't know," she finished, pulling her coat tight around her.

The wind here as not nearly as brutal. It came now in gentle gusts off the water, tossing around the waves now and again. It had a deep bite that told her the water beside her. irradiated or not. was extremely cold.

"Markov and the Menglan won't come alone, but they won't be able to bring a large battalion either. They will be trying to catch us before we shove off, so he will come in a Jeep. At best, it can hold five and that's if everyone is really friendly," Abe said, watching her. She had refused pain killers and Ching was concerned that she may pass out. She had torn quite a bit of skin that had only just begun to heal. Her entire arm was going to be deeply scarred and if she did not let it heal properly, the loss of use was likely.

"So, what do we do?" Violet asked quietly.

"I'm going to go raid that huge shed. There must be something of use in there. I mean, they didn't just toss the people into the surf. I'm assuming they had a floating . . . something. I may be able to use it. What I need from the rest of you is time. I will take Mary and Constantine to help me with the repairs. Even with his broken wrist he is fast. I need you guys to do whatever it takes to keep Markov and the Menglan as far from me as possible, for as long as possible.

Abe and Violet exchanged glances; it was time to go see if anyone else had a plan.

They entered the house and Abe cringed as every head in the room, including those of the two tied-up guards, swung towards them.

"You want the good news or the bad news?" he asked no one particular.

"Wait . . . there is good news?" Violet asked, looking at him puzzled.

"Okay, no . . . but I was trying," he said with a grin.

"Lay it on us," Josiah said. He was studying the weapons closet, making a nice little pile of the ones he wanted.

"The Valkyrie can be repaired. But it's going to take time and supplies that I don't know that we have. Mary, I need you to meet Sybil at the shed. She's going to start doing whatever she can now. She asked that we buy her time. That means, of course, finding a way to hold off Krieger and Markov," he said as Mary and Constantine quickly made their way out.

"Shooting them would not hurt my feelings," Asha replied.

"I can honestly say that the world would be a much better place without either of them, but we need time. If we straight up execute them, the pass will be flooded with Templar by morning and we need more time than that.

"I can't volunteer to try to talk them down. Being around Krieger makes me pass out," Lucy said, holding a cold pack to the nasty bruise on her head.

"Well, if you look at it, we have everything they want. The Serum, Lucy, Asha, and Sybil. We have them outmanned and probably outgunned, for the moment. Definitely outthought. We need to barter, buy time, and hope that Sybil can get that ship back up in the air," Josiah said, meeting only Abe's eyes.

"I will turn not a single member of this crew over to them. I've been aboard Heaven once and that was more than enough," Violet said, using her position as First Mate to stand in for what she knew Sybil would want.

"Perhaps not, but they don't need to know that. We need to make them think they have us where they want us. Also, I think it will work to our advantage if they never see Abe or I, gives us a bit of an advantage," Josiah said.

"So, what? We bluff them for two days? And that's only if Sybil finds what she needs to fix the ship," Jia pondered.

"Well, yes," Abe said, quite aware how unlikely it sounded.

"How close do you think they are? We could lay some traps in the pass, a couple of mines, smoke bombs, and the like; might not do much damage, but it would cause confusion and delay," Mardrich offered.

"It's going to take them at least eight to twelve hours to drive straight through at top speed if they manage to dodge any storms. They will have multiple drivers, so they will not need to stop to sleep and that Jeep has a lot more maneuverability inside certain parts of the pass that we did not have. I think putting up traps is an excellent idea; we may get lucky and they could blow themselves up. I know for a fact that Markov is a terrible driver," Abe said

"What I don't know, is what time they left. I'll check the logbook to see if our two solider boys are good at keeping notes," he said, heading into the communications room.

Mardrich turned to the tied-up men.

"I don't assume you are interested in helping us by telling us what we need to know?" he asked.

The larger of the two shook his head no.

"They are afraid of Markov," Josiah said.

"Like hell we are," the smaller one who had answered to Anderson, replied.

"Oh?" Josiah said, moving closer to them.

"We are afraid of the Menglan. He's dumped a few of his failed research projects through the pass; monstrosities, violent, and unpredictable, as well horrid to look at. There is no way I ever want to board his train," Anderson added, the other man nodding along.

"I can't say that your fear is not valid, but you are not innocent just because you are following orders out of fear. Those people you tossed into the water? They were human beings, often exiled for simple crimes, such as knowing too much, being too smart or loving the wrong person," Violet said, glancing at Lucy.

The men looked away, not so much ashamed as angry for being called out on the lies they had sold themselves to perform this duty.

"We put them on the rafts because they are criminals, we give them food and water because we are not monsters, like them," Anderson shrugged.

What about the children? What crimes did they commit?" Lucy asked, her face hard.

No matter Lila's position within the Maw, had they been found out; she would have been exiled, driven to this shore and set adrift, simply for loving differently.

"They are all criminals. That's why they get sent here," Anderson said again, turning his head away.

Josiah shook his head and sighed. "Let's put these gentlemen in their quarters, and then Mardrich, you and I are going to lay a few surprises in the pass," he said.

Sybil let out a shriek of delight that brought both Constantine and Mary running.

"You guys are not going to believe this!" she said, holding up several plain white, what reminded Mary of toothpaste, tubes.

"It's epoxy! Good stuff, too. They must use it to put together the rafts. Yes . . . Concrete bases to float, then the wood and metal is held together with this!" she said, holding it up, her eyes bright.

"So, it's glue?" Constantine asked. He was still getting used to the captain, in a lot of ways she was very much like Ching, but more reserved, and excited by the oddest of things. He held his wrist close, it was not a big break, more a fracture. Ching had set it as best she could, but she would be pleased to discover that this shed held both cement and plaster, she would be able to make a cast.

"Yes, glue that holds metal. This has shortened our repair time by at least twelve hours as I won't have to build something to heal metal with," she said, rooting around through the other bins, taking this and that, out of one or the other, before tossing them aside.

"Well, that's good news." Mary said.

"I'd like it a whole lot better if this stuff was not here to send innocent people to their deaths, but it is what it is," she said, her eyes distant before she went back to digging through crates.

The sun sat low on the afternoon horizon, finally sinking below the thick clouds to give its all to warming those before it. Sybil, Violet, and Mary had gone to see what could be glued and if they had enough parts to fix the engines and pipes. Because Constantine was injured, she swapped him out for someone who two hands. Being short a hand herself, she needed all she could get.

Mardrich and Josiah crept low to the pass opening, listening for the distinctive sound of Jeep echoing off the stone walls. After a long moment of nothing, they set to burying the two anti-personnel mines they had found. Josiah felt guilt wash over him as he realized that if the bad guys did not trip the mine, some unsuspecting exiled people might.

He heard Jia's voice in his head asking if the end justified the means before shaking it clear and digging out a hole in the ground. The dirt was loose after he got under the several top layers of gravel. The deeper it was, the harder it was to trigger, but also the harder it was to see. There was no win-win in this situation. There was only losing more or losing less.

"It may come down to our lives or the serum," Mardrich said. "While I'm old and can accept dying for the cause, I must side with Jia on the loss of the girls," he said as he covered his last mine.

"I truly hope it does not come to that," Josiah replied. He knew he talked a big game about self-sacrifice, but if it came to offering Ching up for death, he knew he could not. Guilt punched him in the gut hard enough to bring tears to his eyes.

"Ching, but not the others? They are also your daughters, Josiah, and through no fault of anyone but yours, they are in this position," Jia's voice rang in his head.

"It won't come to that," he repeated, his voice hard.

************************************************************************

"It's snowing," Krieger said, his tone slightly amused; it had been a long time since he had seen snow. Not that he had missed it, he never had been a fan of being cold.

"Do you think?" Markov replied, leaning as close as his gut would let him to the windshield, he flicked the wipers into high gear.

"We can't stop," Krieger said, feeling the familiar vibration of the hunt in his body. It had been years since he had gone after his own patients, he had the snatchers and mutants for that. But now he was here, hunting not only the one that got away, but the woman he could not live without.

The wind howled through the pass, driving the snow at them sideways as Markov struggled to see.

"I don't know if that option is up to us," he said, slowing to nearly a walking place.

"Every moment we waste here means they can get through the pass and out over the sea," Krieger said, staring into the whiteout.

"I'd prefer not to die," Markov said, stopping the Jeep.

"You want to keep going? Fine. Walk. Many people make it through here on foot with no extra protections. I am waiting until I can see what I'm driving into," Markov said, pulling out a cigarette.

Krieger looked at the man, then at the blizzard around them, that occasionally lifted their light Jeep up off the ground.

His whole body burned with the idea that Asha was just feet ahead, waiting to be rescued. She assumed Gregor would send men. After all, she and Lucy were not a trivial prize. Did she even know about the serum? He doubted it. They were just hostages, ones he did not wish to get away. In his mind he had played out his valiant rescue, every scenario ending with Asha falling thankfully into his arms.

A hard clap of thunder sounded above them, causing one of the soldiers to cry out. The outside was nothing more than a swirling vortex of wind, snow, and ice. Krieger sighed. No matter how many things he imagined, none of them could come true if they ran into a wall or a mine or froze to death. They had to wait.

************************************************************************

The thunderclap rattled through the pass, causing Abe to head to the window to see if it has been a mine.

"Another storm, that may delay them even more," Abe said.

Sybil, Violet, and Mary were still aboard the Valkyrie, patching her the best they could with the epoxy and parts they had found. The rest of them moved listlessly around the small house. Constantine, with the help of Ching, had prepared a decent meal and tea. The guards had been fed and their tea contained enough of Ching's pain drops to ensure that whatever was to happen would not include them.

"I found a map," Lucy said, coming in from the room that contained all the radio equipment and munitions.

"A map of?" Asha said, watching her daughter's eyes devour the information on the hemp parchment.

"It shows Australia, labeled as a prison colony," she said, and Abe chuckled.

"Some things never change," he said, causing all those who remembered to chuckle.

"Sorry, old joke, go ahead." Abe said, the grin still residing on his face.

"It gives coordinates, and ocean tides. It seems that when they sent those poor people adrift, they actually may have intended them to reach land," she said, laying the map out on the table. It was hand drawn, and clearly done from guesses as many of the land masses had question marks drawn beside them.

"So, they really have no idea about the known world we live on, but have the coordinates and ocean currents precise for the prison island?" Lucy said, her brow furrowed.

"That's odd," Sybil said entering. Her forehead bore a long smudge of grease, and her bandages as well. Violet and Mary followed; they were far dirtier with sweat on all the brows.

"Hello Captain, status?" Josiah asked, looking up from the map.

"I've done several questionable repair jobs on this ship due to circumstance, but I'll be honest, this is the most extensive and riskiest thing I've ever tried. Theoretically, everything will work. The epoxy is strong, they also made sure the boats they sent people off in were sound. Seems like a lot of work for people you want to be rid of. Anyway, it would be better of course, if I had my forge, but it should hold. Now, I had to do a lot of bypassing to fix the broken engine. We lost some of the boiler capacity, so possibly some power. Now, that being said . . . I fixed the heating element into that boiler to try to use it for salt water, which can't be a long-term solution unless I find a way to deal with the brine that will encrust the inside of the tanks after the water becomes steam," she said, pacing as she spoke.

"Okay, um . . . what I really should have asked is, can she fly?" Josiah asked.

"The epoxy needs to dry to give us the best seal possible. Can she fly right now? Possibly, but in all honesty, twelve hours at least before we attempt it, ups our chances of survival from twenty-five percent to fifty percent. Twenty-four hours raises that to seventy-five percent," she said with a shrug.

"Those are not overly exciting odds," Lucy said, looking up from the map.

"Hope for the best, but prepare for the worst," Sybil replied.

"April used to say that," Abe said with a sad smile.

"She sounds like a remarkable woman." Jia said softly.

"I heard the thunder, think the storm got them?" Sybil said, shifting the topic as her own eyes filled with tears.

"We can hope, but I don't think it's going to stop them for twelve, and definitely not twenty-four hours," Josiah said.

The radio in the other room crackled to life, causing nearly everyone to jump.

"Station twelve . . ., static, Markov here . . ., lots of static, storm . . ., garbled static, . . . the pirate?" the voice said.

They looked at each other, that was Markov. The guards were too drugged to answer, or they might have tried to warn him.

"Station twelve . . .," loud hissing static.

Abe raced to the radio.

"Here's to hoping the static goes both ways," Abe said.

He did not think Markov would recognize his voice or that he knew the voices of the men here. This was a chance to find out exactly how much time they had without alerting him.

"Station twelve, say again," he said, holding his fingers up in a crossed gesture to everyone who was crowded around him listening.

"Storm . . ., stopped pirate?" he said, back amidst the howl of the wind and bursts of static.

"No pirate, ETA?" Abe asked, slipping easily back into this Templar training.

"Two . . ., storm . . ., Krieger . . .," was all they could make out.

"Station twelve, repeat," Abe said, the receiver clenched in his hand.

All they were rewarded with was a large amount of static, a faint voice came in and out, but it was impossible to make out.

After a long moment, the static stopped. The stood waiting, hoping for a clear moment just to get the information they needed, but nothing came.

"Two . . . two what? Hours? Minutes? Days?" Jia asked, her arms crossed in a tight line against her chest.

She held a deep hatred for Markov, now even more than she had when he had clocked her. He had held Velletri back, kept it at a nearly primitive level while hording all his supplies. He used people with no regard for their lives, and after the journey through the pass, his exile of anyone who opposed him was simply the icing on his cake of cruelty.

"I'm going to say hours. They are likely in the same place as we were when the storm hit, perhaps even a bit closer. Given that they can go through the narrow spot, which is just after that, I'm going to choose two hours," Sybil said.

"Once the storm ends. I think they are stopped by the snow. That will buy us time," Ching said.

"At most six hours, which means we need to get as ready as we can be, as quickly as possible. When they arrive . . . Josiah, you and Abe should be on the ship with the serum. There is a smuggler's hatch behind the now defunct shine engine. You should both fit. Mardrich, Mary, Ching, Constantine, Jia, I want you guys in my cabin. Find the safest place you can and hold on. If I can't bargain well enough, I will need to take off in an immediate fashion and well, you all know what that feels like when she is not on her side. Violet . . . you, Lucy, Asha, and I will wait here to confront them. Krieger likes to talk. Every minute we are on the ground means the better the chances of our patch job holding," she said.

"Take every steam canister they have, all the drinking water, food, clothing, all of it. I have no idea what we are going to find out there, but right now the completely unknown, probably radioactive ocean is our only shot," Sybil added.

"Storm or not, we should be ready for them in two hours," she said, sinking into the chair. Her arm hurt, but that was a constant now. It was hard to remember a time when her arm was useful and free of all this wrapping, now it only throbbed. Her mind went to Ching's pain drops. Just a few under her tongue and the shredded raw sensation of her skin would be gone. She sighed softly closing her eyes.

Once we are in the air again, and away from the Menglan, then I can take the drops, she told herself as the pain placed black dots in her vision. She pushed them away, breathing deeply and slowly, convincing her body that it could wait. She needed to be sharp. The men coming were ruthless. They would have no mercy for injury so she could not allow it to affect her.

****************************************************************************

"They have not seen her yet, it makes me think they are hiding in the pass, or on the rim above it," Markov said, slamming down the radio mic. His conversation had been marred by the storm; radio transmissions were tricky in the Now Times anyway. Only certain places could still get signal and Templar liked to keep that locked down.

"The storm is slowing I think," Krieger said, noting that the Jeep was rocking less as the wind wound down.

Markov was still frowning, his brain rattling through the reasons why they were not there yet.

"I don't like it. They left so much before us, even with the storm, there is no reason they should not have cleared the pass," he said, firing up the Jeep's engine.

"Keep your eyes open, if they are still inside the pass then we may run into them. Literally," Krieger said, pleased to be moving again.

"Keep your guard up, something is not quite right," he said before flooring the Jeep, which leapt forward, wheels spinning for traction on the freshly fallen snow. For a moment it seemed as if they may be stuck, but another deep press to the gas pedal and they began forward at a decent pace.

****************************************************************************

"I hear something," Violet said, sticking her head back into the house. They had taken turns on the watch. The way the house was situated was to the right of the pass entrance, there was a full, clear view of the exit from the front door. The wind on the other side of the pass was soft but cold and forceful.

Moving to the door, she closed her eyes and listened. She could hear the rumbling of a Jeep engine making its way through the pass. It had been four hours since the transmission and everyone was in place.

"It's showtime," Sybil said, picking up the Smith and Wesson .38. She had very little knowledge about Before Times guns. Abe had chosen it form the stash. Templar was well armed. Markov had clearly been stockpiling weapons and ammo for years before the blasts. He had shown her how to use it. The weapon was loud, and the smell of gunpowder made her nose twitch. She held it in her left hand, its weight sending a finality through her. Before Times guns were much more dangerous and accurate than the steam versions. This was a weapon of power, not of the people.

She exited the house, waving to Josiah, who stood watch on the deck. He gave back a salute before heading for the hold.

Wrapping her good arm around Violet, she pulled her in tight.

"Thanks, for sticking with me, and being the best first mate a captain could ever wish for," she said softly

"If something happens to me, take Orion and our crew, get out of here and don't look back. Fire both boosters. Straight up and out, you hear me?" she asked, releasing the embrace.

Violet nodded, tears in her eyes. "Aye Aye, Captain," she said, with a two-finger salute before heading back inside with the 'hostages,'

The sound of the Jeep was louder now, they were close. Sybil squared her shoulders, placing her hand in her pocket, still tightly gripping the gun. The feel of the cold metal against her palm lending a dark certainty to the situation.

She would win, or she would die.

"But if I go, you are coming with me, Krieger old boy," she said under her breath. Straightening her posture, she placed her very best poker face on.

"There she is!" Krieger screamed, launching himself at the dashboard nearly throwing the Jeep out of gear.

"Yes, I see her you lunatic. now sit back before you get us killed," Markov said, bringing the Jeep to a stop forty feet from the lone woman standing before them.

The soldiers filed out of the Jeep; Markov waved them still.

"Let's see what this is all about before we start shooting," Krieger said, advancing towards the woman at a brisk pace. When he was less than twenty feet from her, the gun appeared from her pocket.

"That's far enough," she said.

"I have guns too," Krieger replied, waving to the men slowly advancing behind him.

"My first mate has a gun to Asha's head with orders to shoot if I'm hurt," she said. Asha had told her about Krieger's unrequited love, and she figured it was her best bargaining chip.

His smile fell.

"I would not say such things if I were you," he said, his fury building.

"Well, you are not me and it's true. I'll even show you if you don't believe me," she said, keeping the gun level with his mid-section.

He growled, then glanced toward her ship.

"I see you had a rather rough landing," he replied, holding his ground.

"Something like that," she replied. Every moment they stood here the glue became more solid, the water in the boilers got hotter. She would much rather shoot him in the gut and leave him to die, but that would have to wait.

"Came over the ridge, that's how you avoided the wire." Markov said, taking position beside Krieger. He'd seen drawings of the air pirate on wanted posters, but she seemed less intimidating in person; tall, lanky, her chin set firm in defiance. No more than a child playing cops and robbers.

Sybil's eyes narrowed. That's what the feeling had been warning her about, a wire, probably high tension strung between the peaks. If they had hit that at speed it would have sliced through her ship and possibly her crew like a hot knife through butter.

"What is it you want?" Krieger said, his eyes flicking to the window of the house where he could see three shapes.

"I want to leave, unhindered. I want to get in my ship, take off and not be shot at," she said.

"Then why are you standing here, you could have simply left before we arrived," Krieger said. He was searching for the weak spots, so he knew what to offer.

"You will have the wall lined with guns. You will shoot me down; I want assurance that you will not fire on me," she said.

"What? You wish to go back to Pendergrass? See your mother, perhaps? No, I don't think so . . . You would not fly the pass if you did not intend to try the open water." Krieger said.

Sybil flinched; he knew where she was from. He had to know her mother was dead, why else use it as a jab.

"My mother is dead," she said before she could stop herself.

"You sure about that?" Markov said. It was his turn to smile, his pudgy hands clasped behind his back.

"April O'Shea entered a Templar facility without clearance. That's a crime, making her a criminal. Which, of course, does forfeit her life. but it would be such a shame to waste her potential, given it seems she has a mutation my doctors covet," he said

"You're lying," Sybil said, the gun's weight doubling in her hand.

"Am I? Give me the serum and I'll let you go, out to the ocean, to whatever fate awaits you there, and I will release your mother," Markov said, so pleased with the information he had been able to torture out of the Nulls. He almost had her.

"What serum?" she asked, her expression one of genuine surprise.

"The serum you took from the Sadovkan palace," Markov replied, his smile fading. What if Gregor had been wrong? What if this woman had not taken the serum at all, but was simply trying to escape?

"I went to Sadovka to drop off a package, got collared by the sanctioned brute squad, escaped with the help of my first mate, grabbed the two overdressed dummies for protection and got the hell out of dodge," she replied, seeing fear bloom in Markov's eyes and anger in Krieger's.

"Watch how you speak about the ruling family," he said, his tone low, his hands forming into fists.

Sybil merely shrugged.

"So, let's trade, what kind of offer you got?" she said, her body tense but her face calm.

"You will give us the Serum, Asha, and Lucy, and we will leave. When I reach the other side, I will not send troops here and you will be able to finish your repairs and go wherever it is you want to be," Krieger said.

"I don't have any serum. That offer might be worth Asha, but not both. The minute I show up in any Imperium, I will be shot down. Numero Uno on the great Gregor hit list," she said, wondering if the water was hot enough to try a takeoff. It was a hundred feet or so, at a dead run, to get to the ship. If they started shooting at them, then none of them would make it. The beach was too open.

"You murdered an acolyte of the Maw. Not just any acolyte, but the son of the Archbishop Gabriel. You are a criminal in the Imperiums and will be hunted as such," Markov said, his frustration mounting. They had the serum; this was a stalling tactic. Krieger was likely correct that they needed to do repairs. He needed to take control of this negotiation, knowing full well he had no intention of honoring any deal made.

"He murdered his sister," she replied, recalling how the look in Lucy's eyes as she squeezed the life from him before dropping him in the pool of Lilia's blood.

Krieger shrugged.

"None of that is my concern. Give me the women, and I'll see that you get a quick death aboard my train. It will save you from the agony of hanging in the Sadovkan square," he said, advancing several steps.

Sybil rolled her eyes.

"I have to say, that's one of the worst offers I've ever been given. Going to have to decline that one," she said. It took everything in her not to glance at the ship. The minute the boilers hit the boiling point they would make a run for it. Abe had taken a radio and was to buzz Violet once, as soon as it hit the temp, then it was time to go.

"Let's see, I give you Asha and Lucy, you let us leave, and I get protection. Same level you give your Templar stooges. No one looks for me, no one shoots me down. I'm safe. You release my mother and never touch her again," she said, risking a glance in the front window of the house hoping for a signal from Violet. Nothing. She was unsure if her mother was alive, or if they were bluffing. This covered her both ways.

"And you get to continue your criminal activities?" Markov asked with a scoff. This woman had balls.

"Rob the rich to feed the poor. It's kinda my gig," she replied.

"Give me a gun. I'll just shoot her and take what I want," Krieger said, his patience nearing its end.

"You sure about that? Violet!" she yelled, bringing the woman to the front window, holding Asha by her arm. She also held a large pistol, its muzzle flush with her temple.

"Recognize the gun? The locker sheet said it's a Colt 1911, government issue. Now I admit I'm not up on all the old times guns, but I think that would scramble her brains rather well," she said, taking a hard tone. They had to believe she would do it.

Krieger cried out, covering his mouth quickly. She had him.

"Now, how does my deal sound?" she asked, the pain in her arm surging as she held her tight stance.

"Fine, with one caveat," Markov said, pushing Krieger behind him. The man was soft, he cared too much for the woman. Markov did not have such flaws.

"I want the serum. Don't tell me you don't have it, or you don't know what I'm talking about. You took it on your way out. You don't understand what it's for. Give it to me, and I'll see to it that you and your mother can live a peaceful life anywhere you want," he said.

Sybil thought for a long moment. The offer was attractive, the others were not wanted. They could go back to their lives; she could go home and be safe with the people she loved. All it took was handing over the cylinder. She had never asked to be caught up in this. Josiah had forced her into his plan, bringing these madmen after them.

She glanced at her ship, the people aboard it who were depending on her, the people of the Imperiums who were unaware of what she had placed on the line to save them, would be safe or not depending on her choice. She sighed softly looking at the ground.

"Yes, or no? I'm cold," Markov said. He could tell he had gotten to her; he could almost see the wheels turning in her mind as she weighed his offer. Her mother was in fact alive, it was his one true bargaining chip. Even though once he got what he wanted, they would both swing.

"Yes," Sybil said quietly.

"As long as my first mate agrees, I will get the cylinder for you. I've got it hidden. If you or your men so much as move, I'll put a bullet in Asha, and we will be back at square one," she said, slumping her shoulders as she made her way back to the house, walking backwards to keep her eye on them.

"I'm impressed. I didn't think she'd turn on them," Krieger said, watching with a smile as she entered the house.

"Sometimes you just have to know which cards to play," Markov said, his hand on his weapon. Pirates were not known for their honesty.

"He thinks I've made a trade, how close is the boiler?" she asked anxiously.

"The patch is not holding well, yet pressure is escaping. It can't get to temperature," Violet said, still holding Asha in place to keep up the charade.

"Fuck," she said, softly hearing her mother's admonishment in her head for her language.

"Mom's alive. He's got her," Sybil said, pacing angrily.

"What?" Violet said, the gun dipping for a moment.

"Are you sure? Or is he bluffing?" Lucy asked softly.

"How the hell should I know?" Sybil shouted, tossing her gun on the table.

"I'm sorry, I know you want it to be true, but I'm afraid he's playing you," Lucy said, moving closer to Sybil.

"Perhaps he is, but if I leave here, without giving him what he wants, then he will kill her," she said, placing her hand on Lucy's arm.

"Ouch!" Lucy cried out, jumping back as an arc of blue light jumped from her fingertips.

"Electricity," Asha said softly.

"Can you do that on purpose?" she asked, a plan dawning in her eyes.

"I don't know. I don't think so?" she pondered, glancing out the window to the men who were watching the argument with amusement.

"It seems she is going to deal. The other woman looks angry," Krieger observed.

"I would be too if I had just been sold out," Markov said with a grin. Just a bunch of kids, nothing he could not handle.

"Try, Lucy. Hold Sybil's hand and think about the arc, see if you can make one," Asha said.

Clasping hands, she tried her hardest to imagine the tingly feeling the sparks made to force her fingers to bring them forth. For a long moment there was nothing. Sybil sighed deeply, pulling away. Just as she did, a light so loud and strong leapt from her fingertips to Lucy that it made a distinctive crack.

"Yes!" Asha said.

"In the Before Times, I was an electrical engineer. You two create current. With Ching, you might be even stronger," she said, pulling away from Violet, who jerked her back into place.

"We are still being watched," she said in apology.

Asha nodded.

"So, you want us to zap him?" Lucy asked, rubbing away the numbness from the power of the shock.

"No, I want you to boil water," she said, her eyes bright.

"I see. You think that if Ching and Lucy and I concentrate, we might be able to zap the boiler and heat the water enough for takeoff." Sybil said, a smile creeping to her lips.

"That's a lot better than any other plan I currently have so, let's do it," Sybil said picking up the gun.

"I'm going to tell him it's on the ship. Asha, if you could continue to wind Krieger up, keeping them off guard will help. Lucy and I will grab Ching and head to the boiler. Violet, you stand right beside the down edge. The moment that engine kicks over, you two dive on board and keep your heads down. They will start to shoot once they realize they've been tricked," Sybil said, placing her hand on the door.

"Who is going to engage the engines?" Violet asked, seeing frustration in her captain's eyes.

"I don't know. Anyone I send up there will not only be seen by Markov but could be shot much easier. If only we had not landed on our side," she mused, feeling her enthusiasm of escape fading.

"Send Josiah, he's got the luck. Plus, seeing him might throw Markov off. We really don't have much of a choice if this is going to work," Asha said.

Sybil nodded.

"All right, cats and kittens, here goes everything," she said, opening the door as they filed out past her. Sybil kept her gun buried in Lucy's side; her eyes hard.

"My first mate agrees to the deal. To make sure you keep your end of it, I'm walking the hostages to the ship. Lucy will accompany me onto the ship, and I will send her out with the canister. Once you have her, you will start backing up. Once you are far enough away that you can't just open fire on us, I will send Asha out. If you start firing, I will shoot her in the face. Got it?" she said, pressing the gun harder into Lucy's side.

"That seems more than reasonable," Krieger said.

The four women began to walk backwards towards the ocean, the giant ship laying silently in the twilight.

"As soon as we have the women and the canister, I'm going aboard that ship. If I can take her alive, so be it. If not, problem solved," Markov said, advancing only one step for every five taken by the women.

Reaching the rail, they stepped over. Using the ropes to walk up the wall, they made their way towards the door that led to the engines. Sybil slipped the gun in her pocket to use her good hand to pull her along. They had to have noticed, but they made no move to take advantage of the situation.

"You know, the minute they have us, they'll be up in here, guns blazing," Lucy said quietly, keeping her eyes trained on the door.

"Yup," Sybil replied, willing the pain in her arm to give her a break.

"Go ahead into the engine room, fill in Josiah. I have to get Ching," Lucy said.

Glancing back, she pretended to slip, placing the higher wall between her and their vision. Sybil paused at the door, Krieger and Markov had not advanced.

"What if she's tricking us?" Markov whispered, even though there was no way anyone but the men behind them could hear.

"I had considered that, but the only reason she agreed is because they can't leave. The ship must be severely damaged, repairs like that take time. She is only interested in saving her own skin," Krieger replied, his eyes fixed on Asha. She had smiled at him when they were mere steps apart, a warm, welcoming smile. She was happy to see him. He was her protector and rescuer.

"Looks like luck is on our side this time," Markov replied as he watched the woman disappear into the hold.

"Before we shoot her, I want to find out how she knew about the serum, how she got it. I'm certain you have methods for finding out such things," he said, looking to Krieger whose small smile had spread into a frightening grin.

"Oh yes, and Heaven has so missed her," he replied

"Excuse me, what?" Ching asked, crawling her way to Lucy.

"Yes, I understand how insane it sounds, but it is literally our only option. The seal on the boiler is not tight, it can't get enough pressure. Asha says if we hit it with the electricity, it will give us the boost we need," she said, glancing at the door. Time was not on their side.

"Oh. Well, I'm in," she said, kissing Jia on the cheek before following her out. Laying as flat as possible, they hoped to shield themselves from the men, making them suspicious was not in their best interest. Crawling into the hold, they stood sideways laying against the wall. Josiah waited for them just inside.

"Sybil's by the boiler. I really hope this works. I'm going to head for the wheel the second you guys start your thing. If the pressure comes up, we are out of here," he said, wiping some grime from Ching's face.

"He may shoot at you," Lucy said softly.

"Wouldn't be the first time," he replied with a grin.

"I'm more worried about flipping this thing upside down than getting shot, my lessons in driving this were shorter than a crash course," he added with his dashing grin.

Lucy could see how her mother had fallen for him. He had a reckless charm that 'said come with me for adventure.'

But since this was her first adventure, and she was not having any fun whatsoever, the appeal was a bit lost on her.

"Once you get her up, Violet will be on board and come up to help you steer. I don't know how much power we are going to get from this or how long it will last, but I hope it's enough to get us to the first island I saw on the map. It's small, deserted, no more than fifty miles. But we must find it, in the dark, land safely, and so on," Lucy said.

"Oh, well that sounds easy," Abe said from the back of the room.

"They are advancing, y'all wanna get on with this?" Violet shouted.

"On it," Ching shouted back.

The three women huddled between the two boiler tanks, the left had been undamaged and gave off a warmth that spoke to its rising temperature. The right, on the other hand, was stone cold and they could hear hissing from the makeshift patch on the far side.

"Let's try for both, all the power we can give them," Sybil said, taking Lucy's hand in hers, she attempted to place her other hand on the tank. Hampered by the large amount of dressing and no small amount of pain. Lucy noting the problem worked her fingers inside the dressing to make contact with Sybil's wounded fingers before placing her hand firmly on the tank completing the circuit.

"Think about the arcs. The blue light . . ., the power . . ., reach for the sizzle in your fingertips with your mind. Close your eyes, see the power brewing in you, push it out into the tanks," Lucy said, her voice catching the others in its sway.

From outside, a gunshot rang out. Sybil rushed forward, breaking the chain.

"Don't. You can't save them any other way," Lucy said.

Sybil felt the rage grow within her, the blue sparks became white lightening, etched inside of her eyelids as she imagined shooting the arc through Krieger's chest. Another gun shot, but it was muted by the music of electricity as it flowed through them, pulsing into the tank with its own heat.

The moment happened slowly in Sybil's eyes; bright white strikes came from her hand, sizzling on contact. The rush of heat driving them all away in a stifling blast. Lucy's back collided with the second tank as a flash rocked from her and Ching's clasped hands, igniting the water within.

The sounds from outside lost as the deafening roar of quickly heated steam screamed through the pipes toward the engine, which Sybil hoped, in that moment, could withstand the power.

The ship shot vertical with a violent whoosh that sent the three girls and a very started Abe to the floor. Gun shots rang out, bouncing off the brass. Untangling themselves, they ran out just as the ship began shooting straight up like a bat out of Hell, throwing them to the deck.

Sybil screamed for Violet, the pain in her arm ricocheting against her skull, demanding the release of consciousness.

"I'm here. Asha . . . they shot her," The ship came to an abrupt stop, vibrating in hover. Lucy jumped up heading for the edge, they were nearly thirty feet in the air, the ship pulsating.

"We have to go the pressure is too great. We have to use the steam!" Violet urged, dragging her bleeding leg as she headed for the stairs, a red, slick trail behind her.

"I'm not leaving her!" Lucy said, staring down at her mother who Krieger held in his arms. Her arm lay uselessly across her body, the sleeve of her coat soaking through with blood.

Throwing the rope ladder over, she was tackled by Josiah, who had given the wheel to Violet.

The ship began to shake now, the heat wave from the energized engines was nearly unbearable.

"Go Now!" Constantine screamed from the boiler room.

"The needle is buried; the patch will not hold. Go!" he added, ducking as a bolt worked its way loose and shot at him.

"Mother!" Lucy gasped; Josiah's grip was strong.

Violet looked to Sybil, who nodded her affirmation, and punched the ship into gear. With a roar, the ship took off, its speed much faster than Sybil had ever flown.

Holding her close to him, Krieger whispered assurances, that she would be safe and that he would save Lucy as his beloved slipped from consciousness. He would be able to save her, it was not a fatal wound, although she may have trouble with her shoulder in the years to come. He kissed her forehead softly.

Markov and Gregor looked up, mouths agape as the ship that appeared to be ready to fall apart shot into the night sky at a ludicrous speed, leaving the mainland behind and hurtling those aboard into the unknown.

To Be Continued . . .

"I sell here, Sir, what all the world desires to have—POWER."

William Bolton, producer of the Steam Engine.

358

