The Osiris Curse (24 page)

Tweed furiously wiped tears from his eyes and stood up in the pod. He steadied himself, then jumped toward Octavia. His fingers curled over the edge of the trapdoor, but his foot banged against the pod as it dropped away below him. He lost his grip and ended up swinging wildly, the fingers of one hand the only thing preventing him from falling.

Octavia grabbed his arm, steadying him. He reached up and caught hold of the hatch with his free hand. He waited a couple of seconds to catch his breath, then pulled himself up.

He stood up and looked around, avoiding Octavia's gaze. He didn't want to see her pain, didn't want her to see his.

They were in a narrow space between the floor of the airship and the actual hull. Tweed had to bend over so as not to hit his head. Toward the center of the space was a protective metal casing that dropped through the hull and rose up into the ship. The death ray. They hurried over, but the metal was thick and solid. They tried to fire their guns at it, but the electricity just skittered off the metal like oil on water. They weren't going to disable it that way.

Octavia led him to a second trapdoor that led up into the
Albion
itself. Into a store room, to be exact. The store room led out into a dim corridor. There were no lights lit anywhere. They paused in the doorway, listening. But all they could hear was their own breath.

They made their way through the airship, moving quickly up through the levels, drawing closer to the Bridge. That was where the scientists said they had built the controls for the death ray. That was where Sekhem and Nehi would be. They didn't encounter a single soul along the way. The airship was abandoned.

They arrived at the final set of stairs leading up to the bridge level. Tweed glanced at Octavia surreptitiously as they climbed the steps and moved quietly along the wood-paneled corridor. He had a plan, but he knew she wouldn't go for it. He had to do this carefully.

“Remember when Sekhem tried to make me choose between you and Molock?” he whispered.

“Yes.”

“Do you remember what I said if the situation were reversed? That I'd want you to do what was right? Not to save me because I'm your friend, but to do the right thing?”

“I remember. I also remember you couldn't make that choice yourself.”

“Because I honestly didn't think he would do it. After talking to him in his room…I don't know, I thought I understood him.”

“But you didn't.”

“I suppose not. But what if it was a choice between you and saving thousands of lives. What would you want me to do?”

Octavia didn't answer at first. “Why are you asking me this?” she said slowly.

“I just want to know,” he insisted. “What would you have me do?”

“What was right, I suppose. Thousands saved in exchange for my life? It's not really complex.”

“But only if you gave your permission,” insisted Tweed. “That's what I'm always trying to say. No one has the right to make that choice for someone.”

“I suppose…”

“I'd be the same,” said Tweed quickly. “My life for thousands? Easy choice.”

“Tweed—”

“Shh.” Tweed held up his hand. Octavia paused. “Sorry,” he said after a moment. “Thought I heard something.”

A lie. But he didn't want Octavia to ask him anything more. He'd put it in her mind now. That was enough.

He checked his gun. “You ready?”

Octavia took a nervous breath. “As I'll ever be. Do we have a plan?”

“I thought making it up as we went along
was
our plan.”

She smiled at him. He winked, then they hurried along the last ten feet of corridor, pausing before the door that led into the bridge. The last time Tweed had been here was to bring the captain and his crew their tea and coffee. He wondered where they were now. Had they made it off the
Albion
when Sekhem stole it? Or had they been among the unlucky ones who plummeted to their deaths in the desert? What about Violet? Had she made it?

He gripped the gun tightly, then carefully pushed the handle. He opened the door slowly, peering inside.

The interior of the bridge had changed. There was a new console in the center of the floor, replacing the globe of the world that had been there before. The console held a few levers and a view screen showing a grainy sepia image of London.

It also held Tesla's soul.

It was inserted into a slot in the center of the console, its white light spilling out over the brass and wood.

Sekhem and Nehi stood over the console, staring at the screen. Nehi muttered something and pulled the lever down, but Sekhem put a hand over hers.

“Slowly, my sister. We must make them suffer. They must taste the fear.”

They entered the bridge, guns extended before them. Octavia moved to the right and Tweed to the left.

“Move away from the console,” said Tweed.

Sekhem and Nehi spun around, both of them drawing thin swords from scabbards hanging at their waists.

“How did you get here?” snarled Nehi.

“Move away,” said Tweed, louder this time.

Sekhem stared at him, eyes narrowed. “I don't think so, Mr. Tweed.”

“I'll shoot you.”

Sekhem reached out and rested his hand on a button. “Shoot me and I'll push this button. It turns the power of the death ray up to maximum and locks it there. What you might call an insurance policy. For when your people finally boarded us and tried to shut it down. The two of us might die, but we'll take London with us.”

“You've proven your point,” said Tweed. “There's still time to stop this. To salvage the situation.”

“There is nothing to salvage!” shouted Nehi. “You killed my children. Your people will die in return.”

Tweed's eyes opened wide. “Your children…?” Tweed remembered when Sekhem was first telling him about
Tak'al
, about how the sickness was killing his people. He had stopped short when he mentioned his sister.

“My sister's son was one of the first to die,” said Sekhem. “Then her daughter. It was why we took the crown from Molock. He was not
doing
anything. He was just standing by and letting our children die!”

Tweed's hand dropped. He stared at Nehi. He could see the pain there. The agony of a mother losing a child. Even though their faces were different it was all in the eyes.

“Tweed?” said Octavia.

Tweed dropped his gun on the floor.

“Tweed?” said Octavia, more insistent this time.

Tweed ignored her. He took a step forward, then another. Sekhem and Nehi both pointed their blades at him.

“What are you doing?” snapped Nehi. “Stay back.”

Tweed kept walking until the points of the blades were only a few inches away from his chest.

“I'm so sorry,” he said. “So sorry for what happened.”

“I do not need your sympathy!”

“I understand now. Finally. Why you are doing this. But you must still see it's wrong. Your children
died
. Think of all that pain you are feeling. You are going to inflict that same torture on how many others?”

“They deserve it!”

“They don't. They're innocent. Like your children were. There is a way forward from here, Nehi. A way to fix this. To heal your people.” He looked at Sekhem. There was doubt in his eyes. The slightest flicker. He moved his hand away from the button. Nehi saw it too.

“No!” she screamed. “Sekhem. They must pay for what they have done. Remember Alabeth? The dead in the streets. The sick calling for your help. Whole families, rotting in their homes, still clutching each other in death. And it's all because of them!”

Sekhem's face hardened. Tweed saw him reach out for the button again. He sighed. He had tried.

“Octavia?” he called. “Remember what we just talked about?”

“What—?”

Tweed reached out and grabbed the two blades hovering before his chest. He felt their sharp edges slice into his palms. Sekhem and Nehi stared at him in surprise, then tried to pull the blades out of his grip. He winced in pain, feeling the blood well between his fingers. But he kept hold.

“Do it, Octavia!” he shouted. “Shoot me!”

“What?” Octavia screamed. “Tweed,
what
?”

“Shoot me! My life for London. Remember?”

“No!” screamed Octavia. “Tweed, I won't!”

Tweed gritted his teeth as Sekhem and Nehi tried to pull the
blades away. The razor sharp blades sliced even deeper into his flesh. He looked over his shoulder at Octavia.

“My…choice…” he said, trying his best not to scream at the pain.

“Tweed…I don't…I can't—”

“I can't hold this much longer, Songbird. Please.”

Then he heard the snap of electricity and his whole body was slammed with something monumentally heavy. He screamed as the blue lighting surged through his body, down his arms, into the blades, and into Sekhem and Nehi. They cried out, the three of them caught in a deadly cage of lighting. He could smell burning, could hear a hideous buzzing in his ears, like gigantic bees eating him from the inside. Sekhem looked into his eyes, and the last thought that went through Tweed's head before his heart stopped beating was:

He understands. He respects my choice.

Octavia watched in horror. There was a huge, terrifying
bang
, and all three of them were thrown into the air. Sekhem and Nehi hit the wall and slid to the floor, unmoving. Tweed flew back toward her and landed heavily at her feet.

Octavia ran frantically to the console and yanked Tesla's soul out of the machine, disabling the death ray. Then she spun around and dropped to her knees next to Tweed. Smoke rose from his clothes. His skin was deathly white.

She put her head to his chest. Nothing. No heartbeat.

“No, no, no,” she sobbed.

She straightened his body, then joined her fists together and pushed down on his chest. One, two, three, four. She stopped, tilted his head back, then leaned down and blew air into his lungs.

She listened again for his heartbeat. Still nothing.

“Come on Tweed, you bastard.”

She pushed down on his chest again, then blew air into his lungs.

Nothing.

She did it again. And again. For five minutes, Octavia compressed Tweed's chest and blew air into his body, but nothing she did made any difference. Tears streamed down her face.

“Tweed, come on! You can't leave me here on my own. I need you!”

She hit him again. And again. Still nothing.

Octavia stood up and looked helplessly around. She didn't know what to do.

So she kicked him. Hard. And screamed at him.

“You wake up now you selfish bastard! You are
not
leaving me behind!”

He didn't move. His face was grey.

Octavia cried out in anger and dropped to her knees, bringing her fists down as hard as she could onto his chest.

The thump echoed around the bridge.

And Tweed surged up into a sitting position, sucking in a huge gulp of air and knocking his head against Octavia's in the process.

He looked around in a daze. He rubbed his chest gingerly, then turned his pale face to Octavia and touched his forehead. “Ow,” he said.

Octavia stared at Tweed in amazement, then grabbed his jacket and yanked him into a fierce kiss.

They held the kiss for quite a long time. Tweed's hand came up and tenderly cupped her face.

Then Octavia broke off and slapped him. Hard.

“
Ow!
” He looked at her in amazement. “What the
hell
, Songbird?”

“Sorry. But you deserved that.”

“What for?”

“For dying.”

“For…Wait, I…
died
?”

“For about five minutes.”

“How…?” he rubbed his chest again then looked at Octavia. “You…?”

She wiped her eyes and nodded, smiling.

“Bother. You're probably going to hold that over me now, aren't you?”

“Oh, yes,” she said, suddenly laughing through her tears. “Without a doubt.”

He nodded. “Thought so. Give me a hand.”

Octavia helped him up. He limped over to check on Nehi and Sekhem. They were both dead. He arranged their bodies, crossing their arms over their chest.

“There's something outside we need.”

He guided her to the door.

“What?” she asked.

“It's in the corridor.”

Octavia looked into the passage. There was nothing there. Tweed gave her a small shove. She staggered out of the bridge and turned to look at him in amazement. “Hey…”

“Sorry, Songbird,” he said.

Then he closed the door.