Wind Dancer: Secret War Steampunk Series - Adventure, Mystery + Mad Science (21 page)

“Only that Aether is everywhere but we can’t touch it,” Will
said blandly.

“Oh,” Abigail paused for a moment then spoke, “Well, the
Aether is actually another dimension. This dimension is the bedrock if you
will, of the universe that we can touch and see all around us. The Shield
effect is just strong enough to create a ‘place’ in the Aether itself, unlike
the Aetherwave, which ‘tunnels’ through the Aether, connecting two places in
this universe instantly,” She stopped, seeing their pained expressions as they
tried to follow her.

“Yes, it’s something like electricity,” she finally allowed
in mild despair. “Only we can make it hard as a stone wall.” Will and Saira
both nodded their understanding at this.

“Thirty seconds to opening,” Rogers announced. “Mark.”

“Have you ever seen this Abigail?” Will whispered. “Watch,”
he pointed forward.

When Rogers count reached ‘one’, suddenly the shimmer
vanished in a slice directly in front of them. Behind the open section they
could see a haze that melted into a stream of grey smoke that flowed towards
the ground, moving out from the city. The ships in front of them began moving
forward, and at Rogers command the
Wind Dancer
moved as well, passing
beyond the wall of shimmering color to either side of them.

“Mr. Jarro,” Rogers said, “Our tower is blue south, berth
number ten.”

“Blue tower two points to port, berth ten one hundred feet
elevation” called out one of the lookouts at the lenses.

The tattooed Maori at the helm and the Japanese woman at the
elevator wheel both repeated these words back, turning the ship smoothly.
Abigail watched as they approached a round tower with blue lights atop it and
down its sides. She watched as the tower grew larger in front of them. They
glided towards a slip that had a yards high number ten painted on it, above and
below the slip were other airships already docked.

“All stop.” Rogers called. Abigail heard Naomi relay the
order. The constant hum that Abigail had become so used to suddenly stopped.
The ship continued to drift forward in the silence until Rogers called out,
“Fire grapples!” Abigail saw harpoon lines snake out to strike colored places
on the wall of the tower. “Reel forward,” Rogers called. She saw the lines go
taut as the ship winches slowly pulled the large ship closer to the tower. She
saw the slip rush up towards them from below. There was a slight bump, and then
Rogers called out, “All stop. Secure to berth.”

“That was a smooth berthing,” Will whispered in Abigail’s
ear. “They’re the best air devils in the sky you know.” There was no mistaking
the pride in his voice.

“Chief Marsh reports riggers have secured to berth,” Naomi
called out.

“Thank you Mr. Walters,” Rogers said. He turned towards Will.
“Captain, ship is secured to berth. Recommend that stations lock and Tesla
Engines go to idle.”

“Make it so Mr. Rogers,” Will said formally.

“Mr. Jarro, Mr. Matori, lock and stand down.” Abigail watched
as Jarro and Matori locked their wheels and stepped away from them.

“Well done everyone,” Will said. “Naomi, my compliments to
the crew and stand to berth watch stations. No liberty call until announced.”

“Aye, Aye, Captain, stand to berth watch stations. No liberty
call until announced.” The bridge talker spoke into her speaker horn. When she
finished, she looked back up. “Please tell me that I can go get some chocolate
soon Cap’n.” She pleaded. Will smiled at her.

“Soon as our business is done, I’ll buy you a big box
myself,” he promised. The bridge talker’s face lit up in a smile of her own. Will
turned back to Abigail still smiling. He gave her a courtly bow. “Welcome to
Hong Kong, Lady Hadley,” he said.

Chapter Sixteen

Wind Dancer, Air Tower, Hong Kong

Will accompanied Abigail to fetch her lone bag. The Captain
promised her that her instrument trunk would be unloaded and sent to the hotel
where she said she was to meet her father. Together, they made their way back
to the hatch that would be connected to the passenger sky bridge. Each berth
had a bridge for passengers and crew that was extended out from tower. The ship
floated above the landing strip itself which was used to load and unload cargo.
Captain Hunting Owl assured her that Saira and Rogers would meet them there, so
that she might say her farewells.

“There’s a little dance we have to go through with customs
before we can actually set foot off the ship,” Will explained.

“What kind of dance?” Abigail asked.

“Oh, nothing much, really,” the Captain said with a wave of
his hand. “Just arranging for how we’re paying for dock space and service, what
we’re bringing in to port, that kind of thing. Some places it could take us all
day just to sort it out and pay the right bribes. Being a British colony, Hong
Kong is pretty easy as these things go. We have already declared, and all that,
over the wave. I have found that gold bars work pretty well for services and
bond surety.” He grinned at her with the last statement.

“I see,” Abigail mused. “I hadn’t really considered that
essentially you are as much a business as any merchant or passenger ship. That
you have to concern yourself with such things seems positively prosaic after
the way we met. ”

“What,” Will laughed, “did you think that we get free lift
gas and supplies just for being glamorous mercenaries?” He stroked the feather
at the back of his hair, and then straightened his vest. “Although I do admit
we are a stirringly handsome bunch.”

“And as modest as your Arms-Master, I see!” Abigail responded
with a laugh.

“I reckon that you will be pleased to see your father,” Will
remarked as they walked. Abigail's face lit up with a smile.

“Oh yes,” she enthused, “Seeing Papa will be ever so grand!
And the work we have yet to do.” She cut herself off and turned towards him. “I
am exceedingly grateful for your assistance. I promise you that as soon as
possible I shall see to it that you are reimbursed for all your trouble.” The
Captain waved her offer away.

“You haven’t been any trouble, Lady Hadley,” Will assured
her. “In fact, to listen to my engineer I should pay you for your help.” He
glanced at her sideways. “You could always make a living selling that skill to
an airship you know.” Abigail smiled at this.

“Why thank you Captain.” She looked ahead, as if seeing into
the future. “Should I ever need employment I shall keep what you say in mind.
While the thought is tempting, the work my father and I are doing is
important!” Hunting Owl nodded at this.

“That’s’ what I figured,” Will said causally.

“But I do appreciate the fact that I need not wear skirts
aboard!” She said with a laugh.

“Maybe you could start a new fashion.” The Captain said.

“Oh I hardly think so!” Abigail exclaimed. “I cannot see most
women preferring pants over skirts.”

“Do not the northern men of your island wear skirts as well?
Lots of countries where men do,” Will pointed out.

“Would you like to wear a skirt yourself, Captain?” Abigail
asked him, a light playing in her eyes.

“Nope,” Will said definitely. “My knees are way too bony to
look any good. Besides,” He said patting his revolver. “I could not draw as
quickly as you can.” Abigail laughed. Will joined her.

They were both still laughing when they turned the corner to
find Rogers and Saira waiting before the still closed hatch.

“What seems to be our hold up, Lawrence?” Will asked.

“Still waiting on the customs,” Rogers said looking out the
door porthole. “Ah, here he comes at last.” Rogers pushed open the door by its
lock wheel.

Before anyone could speak, in strode a rat-faced florid
little man with a pencil mustache and a swagger stick under his arm. He was
followed by a taller man with a clip−board in his hands. Two stone-faced
Chinese Sepoy's with rifles at port arms stopped just inside the hatch. They
were all dressed in the dark blue of the Queens Port Authority. The little man
walked up to Mr. Rogers.

"I am Inspector Nilquist of Customs and Immigration,” he
announced. “I presume you are the captain of this," here he gave a
slightly curl of his lip, "vessel?" Will stepped forward, thumbs in
his belt, his foot long Bowie knife prominently displayed.

"I'm Captain Hunting Owl, and this is my First Officer,
Mr. Rogers,” he explained calmly. “How can we help you today, Inspector?"
The Inspector looked at Will as if he'd discovered a cockroach in his salad.

"You are the Captain?" Nilquist asked
incredulously. Will gave an easy nod.

"Captain and Owner of the
Wind Dancer
out of
Seattle Freeport, licensed for trade and bonded,” Will replied. “Oh, we also
bear letters of Marque from both the Seattle Council and the East India
Company. I believe we already transmitted our authenticity codes, and manifest
to Port Control, but my First Officer here has the papers for your inspection,
Inspector. Lawrence, if you would please." The man with the clipboard took
the thick stack that Mr. Rogers held. Nilquist, whose color had gone a deeper
red, sniffed.

“This will all have to be verified of course,” the Inspector
looked around the airlock with a sour pucker to his lips. Rogers had gone stiff
at the man’s tone, while Will continued in his half slouch, looking at the
inspector through lidded eyes.

“I’m sure that we can come to some understanding here
Inspector,” Will said easily. “We have cargo that must be unloaded quickly.
Would fifty pounds sterling in gold bullion be sufficient for our surety bond?”
The inspector’s face was a fleeting study in surprise. Fifty pounds would keep
a family of four for an entire year. The usual port fees would never amount to
more than half that much. Nilquist narrowed his eyes.

“I see,” He looked at Will, calculating. “Well, we have added
new port fees you may not be aware of. Ninety pounds would cover your fee.”
Will met the man’s gaze directly.

“Well that is a might higher than we were planning on,
Inspector,” the Captain said. “We do have the fifty right here.” Will pointed a
thumb at Saira, who held up a small strong box for the Inspector to see.

Abigail decided that it was time she intervened, before
things got out of hand altogether. She may not know much, but she did know that
ninety pounds was tantamount to robbery. Why she could have traveled all the
way here by air for that amount! She would not stand for a repeat of the
exploitation that she experienced in Bombay. Stepping out from behind Rogers
and Saira, she spoke sharply in her best savant speaking voice.

"This is hardly the behavior I would expect from a Queen’s
Servant, Inspector," she said in rebuke. The little man, now purple faced,
rounded towards her, slicing his stick through the air.

“And I could give a damn what some pox ridden doxy
thinks!" His rant cut off, as he caught sight of Abigail in her gray
London travel dress with the Scholar’s crest on the left breast. Wordlessly she
removed a glove and touched the jewel in the crest’s center, which began to
give a pale blue glow.

He went slack-jawed, his eyes bulging, as he watched the
glow. Abigail was suddenly grateful for what she had always considered a showy
bit of frippery. The crest of every member of the Order was set with a small
galvanic conductor, which would only glow at the touch of the person keyed to
it. The means of making of them was a Crown secret. They unmistakably marked
the owner as being of the Orders, or of the Queen’s Eyes, her Majesty’s Secret
Service, depending on the color of the gem.

"I am Abigail, Lady Hadley of the Royal Order of
Scholars,” she announced. “You will address me as Lady Hadley." The man
closed his mouth, and practically jumped to attention. “As I said, I find this
behavior most unseemly in a Queen’s Officer, Mister?" She paused for
effect, raising an eyebrow.

"Nilquist, Lady Hadley," he gulped, "Inspector
Harold Nilquist."

"Well, Mr. Nilquist, you can be assured that your
attitude will be mentioned in my reports. For your information, Captain Hunting
Owl and his crew have been of great service to me and hence, to the
Order." She said in acerbic tones. Abigail had always hated any sort of
officious bullying, which was part of why Bombay had left such a bad taste in
her mouth. This time, she could do something about it. This colonial idiot
would see what officious bullying could really be like. He swallowed hard, eyes
looking around as if for some escape.

"Forgive me Lady Hadley,” the Inspector said. “I had no
idea this vessel was under your employ."

"Perhaps, if you had spoken with the courtesy of a Queen’s
Officer at the beginning, you would have ascertained some facts," she replied
coldly.

"Yes, Lady Hadley," He said meekly.

"Now, of your courtesy, you will make whatever
arrangements are required, for the fastest disembarkation possible from this
ship. I have much to do, and I'm sure Captain Hunting Owl has business of his
own." She inclined her head towards Will, who with a straight face nodded
back.

"Yes, Lady Hadley," Nilquist became ramrod
straight, and shot out his left arm. "Smothers!" he barked. The other
man quickly handed him the clipboard, and stepped back into his own attention
position.

"Declared cargo, purpose of visit, and estimated
length?" The Inspector droned out in true bureaucratic form, pencil
hovering over the forms.

"Private cargo for Yang Imports, Customs pre-declared
and duties paid. Delivery, resupply, and shore leave about one week at the
outside. Oh, and one passenger," Will pointed at Abigail with his thumb,
and then grinned at the man.

The now stone−faced man wrote hurriedly on many forms,
tore off several which he handed to Mr. Rogers, along with the ships papers. “I
declare that all seems to be in order. We can take your berth surety to the
Port Master’s office for you.”

Saira wordlessly held up the case. Looking at the cold blue
eyes in Saira’s dark face, Nilquist hesitated for a moment, before beginning to
reach for it. Abigail decided that she simply would not stand for it.

“Inspector,” she said innocently, “Forgive me, but I thought
that the ship officers would be taking that to the Office themselves? I’m sure
that you have other ships to see to, do you not?” Nilquist’s arms froze; he
lowered them slowly, and then wiped his hands against his trousers.

“Yes, of course, My Lady,” he said weakly. Abigail noticed Smothers
trying determinedly not to look crestfallen, while she caught the two guard’s
mouths quirk upwards for the briefest moment. Clearly, they did not receive
part of the bribes.

“Of course,” Will said smoothly, “we actually have quite a
lot to do. I would be most obliged if you would see to that little detail for
us, Inspector.”

The inspector smiled weakly, “Thank you Captain, you’re very
kind,” he said eyes on Abigail’s stern face. His arm swung up again quickly,
and took the case from Saira, tucking it protectively under one arm.

“Is there anything else I might do for you My Lady? Captain
Hunting Owl?” he asked unctuously.

Will made a show of looking at Rogers, then Abigail, before
turning back. He seemed to be enjoying Nilquist’s discomfort. He waved a hand
lazily.

"Oh we’re perfectly fine,” he said lazily, “Inspector,
perfectly fine. Thank you for your attentions." Nilquist snapped a sharp
salute at Will that should have dislocated his shoulder.

“Then welcome to Hong Kong, Captain, and Lady Hadley.” He
turned, barking orders. "Smothers! You lot!" He said, gesturing at
the guards. "Stop standing around! Come on! Move! Move!" He strode
briskly out the doorway, past the guards, striding down the bridge.

Saira began to giggle softly as soon as they were out of
earshot, Will grinned at Abigail outright. Even Rogers smiled faintly as he
gave the Scholar a short bow from the waist.

“Well played, Milady,” Rogers murmured, “Well played indeed.”

“I do hope that I have not caused a problem for you.” Abigail
looked at them, brushing away strands of hair from her face. “I do apologize if
I have, but even I could see that ninety pounds was unreasonable.”

“You do right well, Lady Abigail,” Will grinned at her. “He
got his fair squeeze as the port fees only amount to about twenty pounds all
up. I don’t mind the cost of business, but I’d as soon not spend half the day
dickering with a port bandit.” He nodded at her jacket crest. “I had no idea
that was such a useful bauble.”

“Yes well,” Abigail stroked the crest for
a moment, and the blue gem glow faded. She looked up at him startled. “Twenty
pounds you say? The man should be reported!”

“Please do not,” Saira said seriously. “As Cap’n Will says it
is the way of things.” She grinned, “You should see what Customs does to you
English in Free India.” Then she frowned in thought. “If you do peach on him,”
Saira said,” we will gain the reputation of being a ‘trouble ship’. It will be
harder for us here and elsewhere from then on. Customs people talk almost as
much as air devils do.”

“Very good then,” Rogers said. “Now that the customs have
been so thoroughly dealt with,” he nodded at Abigail, “I shall go see to our
cargo. You will doubtless want to greet the business people yourself Captain,”
he remarked to Will.

“Thank you Lawrence,” Will said. “Let’s just run things as we
discussed.” He tapped his communications bracer discreetly.

“Aye, aye, Captain,” Rogers said and turned back to Abigail,
bowing again. “Lady Hadley, it has been a distinct pleasure to make your
acquaintance. Your presence aboard has been a true joy. May I say again, good
show on dealing with Nilquist.  Good luck, and good fortune.”