Authors: Tobias S. Buckell

Crystal Rain (28 page)

BOOK: Crystal Rain

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The mongoose-men kept up the volley of fire. John could see the Azteca on the other ship running to switch sides, shouting at them. Several stumbled and fell to the deck, dead by mongoose fire.

La Revanche
was turning north again, squeezing by reef and Azteca. John’s hope was that they would strike the other ship hard, and their momentum would carry them right past and out into open ocean.

“Watch for grappling hooks,” John shouted. “We’re going to hit.” He grabbed rigging.

The two ships closed and struck. John swayed but held on.
La Revanche’s
bow raked down the Azteca ship’s port side. Azteca leaped aboard, several missing and falling into the frothy water between.

Three hooks with lines landed on the deck and began to scrape along until they snagged something. Sailors ran with machetes to chop at them. One rope snapped into the face of the man chopping at it. Azteca swarmed aboard
La
Revanche
, swinging by ropes or jumping aboard.

John got his balance and raised his gun to his good hand. He fired at the first warrior in padded cotton armor and a feathered mask. The man fell back over the rail into the sea.

Another dodged a mongoose-man with a well-placed knife and rushed John with an aimed pistol.

John struggled to aim the rifle with his hook.

Several feet behind him, the locker door erupted in splinters that rained down around John’s feet. A small dart struck the Azteca. The Azteca fired and fell forward. John’s left thigh exploded with pain. He fell to the deck.

Pepper crouched over John. John groaned and clenched his eyes. Pepper pulled him back into the locker, ripped off his shirt, and handed it to John. “Hold that on the wound. I’ll be back.”

Pepper stepped out of the dark locker into the light and noise of the deck battle. John closed his eyes, but not before he heard the screaming begin.

Fifteen minutes later Pepper shook him awake. Barclay stood next to him, looking on.

Pepper’s skin dripped blood. His own and others’. Slashed pieces of skin hung from his arms and chest. A bullet hole in his shoulder oozed blood.

“I don’t guess medicine is too highly advanced here,” he said. “Your injury could be very bad.”

“We get around that ship. What should we do?” Barclay asked. “Turn and fight? Go home? They could catch up with we when get to ice.”

John shook his head. “Keep going north. Outrun them.”

Barclay nodded and backed out of the sail locker.

Pepper picked John up, and John passed out again as he was lifted off the coils of bloodied rope beneath him.

CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

The Loa dragged the metallic tips of its pale tentacles over the floor and wheezed from the effort of moving as it came into Dihana’s office. She stood up, surprised to see it alone.

“This is the last time we speak,” it said.

“Is there something I have done?” Dihana had been good to them, accepting, including them in every update and discussion about city defense. And they had offered nothing, just listened, since the ship had left for the icy north. That was all they had wanted. They didn’t seem to care about anything else.

“No,” it said. “We have seen the information, we know the odds. Even with the mission to the north, with the man deBrun, the assembly met and decided we should not stay in sight or risk capture. It is time for us to hide and let things happen as they may without our presence.”

“Let things happen,” Dihana snorted. “What is it you want from us? Why should we allow you to live among us?”

The Loa considered it, then said, “If our memories are correct, faded though they are, then the Teotl and my kind are both from the same stock. We were ambassadors to this region, and we disagreed over how to deal with the human problem. Our cousins still walk the faraway stars. If the Teotl win domination of this planet, they will recommend subjugation of your kind when my kind return in great numbers. We prefer subtler methods of manipulation that do not involve needless force. However both our efforts to aid you technologically and bring you to self-sufficient military strength have failed disastrously and led to all this. So, we hide, deep in the shadows. We hide and hope that we can survive and still influence things once the rest of our kind come through the wormholes.”

In the face of all that information Dihana had one question. “Hide? Where can you hide? The Azteca have Limkin, only three towns stand between them and our walls now. And what if the expedition returns with the
Ma Wi Jung,
how will you help us with it?”

“The expedition has one of our own on it, waiting until you get to the north to assist your expedition. It will come out of hiding to reveal itself when you arrive, and when the expedition returns, will contact us. If we told you where you could find us, you might betray us.” The Loa rustled
around in the wicker chair and pulled something out from a pocket along the arm’s chair. “We have something for you, though. We have spent a few generations creating something for this instance.”

It placed a small gourd on her desk, with a wax-sealed top.

“What is this?”

Tired eyes looked at Dihana. “When all hope is lost,” it told her, “when there is no other recourse, release this into your water supply.”

“What will it do?” Dihana looked down at the being in the chair.

The Loa sighed. “It will kill everything. A plague that spreads swiftly through your packed city and beyond. The death will spread all the way back over the mountains when the Azteca try to retreat from it. It will spread through them, eat them alive. But more importantly, it looks for the Teotl and will eat them as well.”

Dihana looked down at the gourd and swallowed. “How can you expect me to kill my own people, the entire city? This whole world?”

The Loa took a deep breath. “It is a last measure.”

“You have no cure for this? Even for yourselves?”

“No, we do not. That is why we hide now. Take this if you will. Or do not. It is your choice.” The Loa turned the wicker chair around. As it squeaked out of the door, Dihana held up the gourd.

“It shouldn’t have been my choice. You are just too cowardly to make and face this decision yourselves. You leave to hide from it all.”

Could she get mongoose-men to stop them? What would happen if she tried? Revolts? More trouble in the city than she was already managing?

She couldn’t.

A word struck her:
generations
.

“Did my father know of this?” Dihana walked out into the corridor after the Loa. The Loa continued scraping down the corridor. “Answer me, or I will call the guards and you won’t be able to join your friends in hiding.”

The Loa paused. “Yes, Dihana. Your father knew of these things.”

Mother Elene ran to the Ministry building. She stopped when mongoose-men aimed rifles at her. By the time Dihana came down to the lawn, Mother Elene had collapsed on the grass.

“They gone,” she cried. “They leave.”

Dihana crouched next to her. “They didn’t warn you?”

Mother Elene shook her head. Her silver earrings danced with the motion. “Where they go? You know?”

“They wouldn’t tell me.”

Mother Elene wrapped her arms around her knees and sobbed. A priestess whose gods had left her. “Mother Elene.” Dihana put a hand on her shoulder and moved around in front of her. “Did they leave you gourds of any sort, with instructions?”

Mother Elene nodded. “There are three of them.”

“I know this is a bad time, but you must give those up to me. You understand? I know the Loa have given up, but we haven’t. We
can
fight the Azteca. Please do as I say.” Dihana stood up and pointed at two mongoose-men. “Follow her back, make sure she brings the gourds back. Make sure I get all three.”

Dihana walked back toward the doors, wondering how many gourds were scattered throughout the city as gifts from the Loa.

“Prime Minister,” Mother Elene called out. “What we go do without the Loa?”

Dihana paused. “The same things we were going to do with them.”

She walked up the steps.

CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

The dreams came back to John. A spiked egg dripped water from its sides as it rose from between the waves. The giant metal bird returned and flapped toward him. Dark seas tossed and turned all around him.

John’s own face loomed out of the liquid metal that coalesced above the bird’s neck.

Pepper stood next to him dressed in gleaming metallic armor. A gun the length of his body attached to his hip. He winked at John. “Keep her steady, deBrun, I’ll be right back.”

Now John was trapped inside the egg. There was nothing anywhere, he was going to die in it. Stale air and stench made him gag.

It cracked. Ocean and fresh air rushed inside, choking him. Steam rose up around the egg. He burned his fingers on the inside edge of the crack as he floundered out into the water.

The egg sank behind him. He was alone in the ocean. He didn’t know who he was. Broken pustules on his arms hurt. Blood ran down his head and out his nose.

Were there sharks in this ocean? He couldn’t remember. He couldn’t even remember what sharks were.

John woke up on the surgeon’s table. A small kerosene lantern swung overhead, lighting up the room in random half-shadows and patterns. Pepper sat in a chair watching John from the corner of the small room, bundled in heavy clothes.

Tight bandages wrapped John’s left thigh. His pants had been cut away.

“You did this?” John asked, resting on an elbow.

“No. Mongoose-man surgeon. I watched.” Pepper stood up. “So you will keep me aboard then?”

John nodded, still half-awake. The sound of Pepper’s voice felt familiar and comfortable. “If you wanted to kill
this expedition, you could have killed me. There is something else going through your head.” John wanted to know what the hell Pepper was thinking of next.

In time. He gingerly swung his leg over to get off the table. Pepper’s mind had always been something of a closed trap.

That was a memory. John froze in place, and the familiarity fled.

He was alone, on the boat again, and the man in front of him wasn’t a friend, but a stranger to him again. Pepper.

“Wait,” Pepper said. “We need to splint that before you get moving.” He walked to the door and bellowed for the surgeon.

John observed a strange thing on deck. The way in which the crew looked at Pepper. Conversation dropped around him. They looked nervous around him.

Respect or fear?

Obviously Pepper had killed Azteca, brutally. He must have, to have been covered in so much blood.

Even Oaxyctl fell silent and shifted from foot to foot.

After a morning of limping around the deck, John sat down with Oaxyctl facing the rail by the side of one of the cabins. Oaxyctl had a new set of knots to practice.

“What did he do?” John asked.

“Who?” Oaxyctl concentrated on joining two lines together with a sheepshank knot.

“Pepper.”

Oaxyctl finished the knot. He held it up. “He killed the first man with his bare hands.” Oaxyctl pulled the knot apart. “Took his gun. Killed the second man with that. A third by bashing his head in with the barrel. A fourth tossed between the hulls. And many others after that. Then they say he jumped between the boats and killed Azteca there, then leapt back over before we pulled away.”

“Did that really happen?”

Oaxyctl shrugged. “As far as I can tell.”

John looked down at the knots. “Shit.”

“He’s a scary man. You keep strange company.”

John shrugged. He saw Barclay at the center mast balancing
and taking a sighting. “It’s more like strange company keeps me.”

“That will get you killed one day.”

“Keep with the knots, they come in handy.” John stood up and limped back down toward Barclay, using the rail to help take the pressure away from his leg.

He waited until Barclay had done his calculations, then took the piece of paper. “I’ll go and look at the charts,” John said.

“I can handle plotting them,” Barclay said. “I familiar with this. If you will let me see the chart.”

“I know.” John frowned. “But I would rather keep the charts with just me. That was what was asked of me before we left.” Neither the minister nor Haidan wanted the coordinates to their find being given to anyone. Not unless it threatened the mission because John was dying would he give anything up just yet. Then John would have to give somone the coordinates, and the strange artifact the Loa had given him.

Oaxyctl? He had saved his life. Barclay? Barclay was already thinking about it, trying to get in to see the final coordinates and chart. Or Pepper?

Pepper? The thought had bubbled up to his surprise. It didn’t make sense. That wouldn’t work at all.

Barclay’s curiosity about the maps made him nervous.

“Barclay, please.” John held out his hand. “The sighting. I am sure it is accurate, and I already know you can use our charts well.”

Barclay handed over the slip of paper.

Later, when Barclay was not around, he would have to find a way of double-checking the sighting.

Just in case.

John limped over to the nearest companionway. One of the crew helped him down the stairs.

Down at the chart table in his small room John wondered if he was being paranoid for no reason. One explosion and the three Azteca ships made him think otherwise.

The world was turning upside down, he thought, taking out a pair of walking rulers. A little paranoia is needed. John marked their location on Edward’s chart.

Everything looked good.

Harrison knocked at his door. “A problem,” he said.

After locking his room John hobbled after Harrison to the hold near the front of the ship. John leaned against a bulkhead, his thigh throbbing to the point he felt dizzy. “The freshwater?”

“Yeah. It were one of them Azteca ship point-blank shot.” Harrison opened the door. “Aiming for we waterline no doubt.”

Shattered water casks dripped their final drops onto a waterlogged floor. The hole in the side of the hull had been patched over with another metal sheet. They were lucky it hadn’t been lower. The Azteca might have sunk them.

“What we do now?” Harrison asked. His face looked yellowed and tired in the weak electric light coming from the small bulb at the top of the hold.

“We just need to make it there.” John had no intention of turning back since the attack. The Azteca were desperate to stop this expedition. He understood that now. He could hurt their plans with this expedition and he felt more committed to it as a result.

“We won’t have the water to make it back.” Harrison moved aside to let somone past with an armful of broken casks.

“Plenty of fresh water where we’re going,” John said.

“Maybe we don’t got enough for that.”

A pump, connected with pneumatic hoses to the engine room, hissed away. One hose snaked down into
La Revanche
’s sump through an opened hatch, and the other led out and up the stairs onto the deck, spitting the salt water over the sides.

“Make some new casks. Take them to the center of the ship. Gimbal them so they don’t splash. And get some rubber, or rubberized tarp. Then get any big pots we have and fill them with salt water to boil,” John gave directions, and Harrison smiled.

“A still?”

“Yeah.” John shuffled his straight leg over with his good hand and leaned his shoulder against the doorway for balance.
“Freshwater still.” He grunted. “And while you’re at it, have them make me a cane. Do it now before people start saying we don’t have water. Get them to help you.”

“Right.” Harrison still hesitated. “There something else you go need see first.”

John watched a crewman in the far corner who hadn’t moved yet. The man stood still, watching them. “What?”

Harrison walked over through the undamaged water casks. He looked back. “Close the door,” he ordered. “And you two by the pump, leave.”

When the door closed, Harrison and the other crewman pulled the sides of a cask off. Shaggy fur spilled over the cracked wood and snapped metal.

“What the hell?” John limped forward.

Harrison grunted and pulled the creature out of the cask. It flopped onto the floor, a thick hand lolling out from its body. The face of the thing had been blown off, leaving a messy stump on its shoulders.

“What kind of god you think it is?” the sailor asked, crouching next to it. “Teotl, or Loa?”

John looked at the jagged claws on the heavy, padded hands. And muscle. Even beneath the fat and blubber he could sense this compact creature could have killed anyone who had found it alive in the blink of an eye.

“Could be anything,” John said. “Wrap it up in something and throw it overboard.”

“Suppose it a Loa?” Harrison asked.

“Suppose it is,” John said. “What else can I do? Keep it to rot? Give it a burial?”

Harrison looked down at the deck. “No. You right.”

“Get the still going.” John walked out of the locker. “Clean this place out. I need to go rest.” His thigh ached. A small spot of blood stained the front of the bandage. John avoided looking down. He’d lost a hand to the saw the last time he’d made this journey. He did not want to undergo another amputation. It gave him chills just thinking about it.

Best not to.

Better to hope, look forward, and plan. Keep moving.

BOOK: Crystal Rain

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