Steam City Pirates (27 page)

Then I heard the clank of metal off in the distance. I looked off into the steamy mist and, as luck would have it, Manette was doing some last minute practice inside his steam man. I could see the twenty-foot mechanical Pharaoh squatting in its combat pose about fifty yards away from where I was lying prone on the cave floor. I stood up, brushed off my pants, and started to run over to him. My head felt dizzy, and my legs were sore, but I finally reached the monster. It was moving its right arm and thrashing downward with the sword.

I shouted up at Manette, who was piloting inside his own likeness. This was a machine directing a machine. Was this our real future I wondered?

“Come down! We need to talk!”

Manette shut down the steam engine, and the clouds of vapor coming from the top of the machine man’s Nemes slowly became small wisps until there was nothing. The engine gave a last gasp, and a whoosh, and Manette slid down the rope on the right side of the awesome fighting machine.

“Who are you? How did you get in here?” His red eyes glowed in the cavernous sockets of his inhuman face.

Now that I knew he was a computer man I was less afraid of him. His technology was beyond my comprehension, so I was not as afraid he would react the way humans often did—without reason and with extreme emotional fear. I tried to use rationality on him because if computers were logical, then he would be more receptive to reason based on logic.

“The name’s O’Malley. Detective Patrick J. O’Malley. I believe you know of me, but now I must tell you some things you are not aware of. If you kill me, I will not be able to tell you, and you will not be prepared for what is about to happen to you and to your Society. Please allow me to inform you,” I said. I waited for him to process the information.

“Proceed. I shall give you five minutes to tell me why you’re here. If you don’t sufficiently convince me that your information is valid, I will have you arrested.” The vibrating coil around his neck blasted out the words, and they echoed inside the large cave.

He was ten feet of threatening machinery, and I wanted to choose my words carefully. The Nemes pleats on his head moved like a stairway, and his glowing crimson eyes bared down upon me. I felt the familiar gravitational pull from his gaze that froze me in my tracks before his white toga and muscular torso.

“I have visited the year 2344 inside a Colorado mountain where you were created. The Network officers informed me that we have an immediate threat on our hands. The warden of the lunar prison stowed away with you when you journeyed to us in New York. He is able to genetically engineer biological organisms, and he reduced the size of his entire prison population, along with his own body, to the size of bacteria. They all hid inside you and later became full size after you materialized in our city. His name is Doctor Franklin Biggs-Pemberton, and he once worked for you as an inventor. Do you remember him?” I was hoping Manette no longer wanted to hide this fact from me.

“Yes, Detective O’Malley, I remember him. Let me ask you something. Why did you believe I was evil? I knew you were in disguise when you arrived with your little
mazikeen
as Hester Jane Haskins. I have a
mazikeen
as well, and I certainly know how to evaluate supernatural beings. It has long been an established article of belief among the Jews that there is a species of beings which they call
Shedeem
,
Shehireem
, or
Mazikeen
. These beings exactly correspond to the Arabian
Jinn
; the Jews hold that it is by means of them that all acts of magic and enchantment are performed. I was programmed to identify anomalies such as this
mazikeen
being. What I explained to you when you were an inventor visiting me was all true. Now you choose to believe me, is this correct?” The powerful tone in the giant’s voice sounded less threatening when it used reason.

“Our little
mazikeen
is right now up in a balloon ready to shoot down your pirate balloon. Also, there will be little men hiding inside the steam man you will be fighting at the Steam City Carnival. These men will include the man I spoke to you about. Doctor Franklin Biggs-Pemberton and his prisoners plan to attack you, Hester Jane Haskins and John Allen after they have defeated you with their steam man. Our Seth Mergenthaler, the
mazikeen
, has guaranteed success over your steam man, as he was the one who created and built it. He also built our Michael the Archangel.”

“Yes, I know. I have made some modifications of my own so as to be a better competitor. I have 863 inventors who work for me, Detective. Did you not think I could improve upon my own steam man? I must say, if this is all you have to tell me, then I would not worry about it so much.” Manette thrust his long arm toward me and touched his hand upon my shoulder. It vibrated and felt warm through my frock coat.

“You don’t understand. There are five thousand of these prisoners, and we don’t know what species of man, beast or machine they might be. They were collected from many galaxies and delivered to Biggs-Pemberton’s facility on the moon. He knows what evils they have committed, and he must certainly understand their individual skills for violence. The Network, as you know, abhors violence of any kind, and this is why I now believe you. What can we do to combat these prisoners and their master?” I tried to keep the panic out of my voice, but I don’t believe I was being very successful.

“We must confront these villains as they appear. My mind can calculate what we need to do, and my inventors have a wealth of weapons to counter these prisoner’s abilities. The time machine you used can also travel to the multiverses, Mister O’Malley. They are suspended like soap bubbles throughout the cosmos and connected by worm holes. I know about the different species and what I need to do to fight them.” Manette sounded confident, but I was not convinced.

“I was led to believe your Society was peaceful. How can you have so many weapons at the ready?” I was also interested in how these weapons could be rolled out at a moment’s notice when the time came, but we had no time to discuss such matters.

“We are peaceful. Peace, however, must be kept at a price. Just as we must learn to invent a steam engine power source that is less environmentally harmful and more plentiful than coal, gas or oil, we must also have weapons to defend against the future enemies who have rebelled against any and all forms of social order.” Manette walked over to the rope and began climbing back inside the giant Pharaoh machine. He looked back down at me. “I shall be taking this to Coney Island by ship. Our submarine is presently at her station ready to fire the torpedoes. I shall join you and whomever you happen to have in your group. We now have an alliance, Detective.”

“Yes, but your piracy of merchant shipping endangers the wellbeing of New York citizens. After this immediate threat is over, our alliance must end,” I said, hoping that the Society leader was not so confident that he believed he could win without our help.

“Very well. I hope you enjoy the amusements at the new park. The Archduchess has put a lot of effort into creating the exhibits.” Manette started the engine in the giant steam Pharaoh, and it began crouching and ambling toward the sea cave. The steam from the top of its Nemes trailed behind it, and the sound of the powerful engine vibrated off the copper walls like that of Southern Pacific’s
Jupiter
crossing the transcontinental railway.

I knew Professor Lowe had installed a teletype machine inside his balloon, so it was not very difficult for me to wire him about the dangers we would be facing. I made it back to our sanctuary at Temple Emanu-El where we had a teletype installed. It was 11:00 AM, and the Steam City Carnival’s grand opening was set to begin at 2:00 PM. I told Lowe to bring the balloon in and to hover over the amusement park on Coney Island. We would be giving him instructions from below by flashing signal.

Doctor Adler had left me a note explaining that he and Doctor Biggs-Pemberton were at the steam man competition. I had to think of a way to inform the rabbi about Biggs-Pemberton and his prisoners, but this would have to wait until I got to the island on the southern shore of Brooklyn. Thanks to the new steam-powered streetcars and the Iron Steamboat Company, transportation to the new amusement park was swift and safe. I knew that many citizens would also be taking their new steam bicycles and automobiles, so the traffic would be dense on the boulevards and streets of New York City.

The Lenape tribe who lived on the island before we came called Coney Island
Narrioch
, which meant “land without shadows.” Indeed, as I rode the WSASP & Brooklyn steam-powered streetcar down to the island, I knew we would have sunlight all day long. This could prove advantageous for our warriors who had to hunt these prisoners down. The traffic was thick, and we had to stop several times for vehicles crossing in our path. On the way down to Brooklyn, I read
The Daily Sun’s
article about the Archduchess Beulah Brownfield-Coldicott and her meeting with Mayor Wagner to cut the ribbon in the opening ceremonies of the new Steam City Amusement Park. The conductor frequently used his steam whistle, and we arrived at the Coney Island station in about an hour.

Coney Island was a peninsula about four miles long and one-half mile wide at the southern end of Brooklyn. The three big hotels were the Brighton Hotel, Manhattan Beach Hotel and the Oriental Hotel. As I walked down the main boardwalk, I could see the two Iron Piers where the steamboats were landing. Citizens poured onto the shore by the hundreds and flowed into the already teeming hordes strolling down the main thoroughfare heading for the Steam City Carnival and Amusement Park. There were also thousands out on the sand, playing in the waves, and generally having a wonderful day. I thought about how all of it could soon become a disaster area.

Sea breezes whipped the giant canvas sign that said “Welcome to the Grand Opening of the Steam City Carnival!” and stretched about fifty yards across the entrance to the new amusement park. I could see Bessie Mergenthaler standing up on the main stage with Mayor John Wagner, the Archduchess, and other city dignitaries. They were all making speeches and introducing the citizens to the park. Behind them was the gigantic steam-powered roller coaster, with cars that were shaped like different sea creatures: octopus, seahorse, dolphin, whale, and others. Riders were lining up, and the queue extended around the block and almost onto the beach. Screams of joy and fright could be heard coming from the cars that whipped across the tracks at over 100 miles per hour, and the riders were holding onto the brass safety bars for their lives.

I then saw an oblong shadow pass over the roller coaster. I looked up and there was Lowe’s balloon,
The Reflector
, bobbing in the wind about 200 feet above us. I knew Seth was there as well, and they were both ready to take action when the occasion arose.

Next to the roller coaster was the great Octospinner, and it was chugging and steaming as it spun each of the cars at the ends of its eight tentacles. Not only did the shiny black octopus spin the tentacles, but the cars also spun on the ends of the tentacles, and the tentacles themselves moved up and down as each tentacle extended fifty yards out and were ten yards apart. Walter McKenzie and about fifteen of his men from the Plug Uglies Gang in Hoboken were standing around the Octospinner, smoking, spitting tobacco juice, and waiting for the action to happen. I waved to McKenzie, and he waved back.

There were also dozens of smaller attractions down the midway. I could see children’s rides, a roller rink, balloon shooting ranges, Civil War battle reenactments, and a giant sideshow with all types of freaks and oddities that came directly from the Barnum Circus, which was now touring all over the United States. The smell of peanuts, taffy, fried chicken and steaks permeated the air.

I felt for the Colt service pistol inside the right pocket leather holster of my army blue wool coat. I had no other weapon, as I was hoping for the result that would soon become a reality after the combat duel between Manette and Doctor Adler was over. If what I believed would happen came true, then all I needed was the assistance of Manette and his inventors to give us a fighting chance.

I now needed to get inside the arena where the combat between the giant Pharaoh and Michael the Archangel was going to take place. The city was charging fifty dollars a ticket for people to view this, as it was the grand finale of the carnival’s exhibition. Steam power was being featured as the answer to all the world’s problems, and this battle would showcase the technology as an entertaining and profitable way out of the economic morasses. If Doctor Adler and his angel won the duel, then he would receive five thousand dollars for his charity. If Manette won, then he could go on to fight duels with the international entries which were scheduled to begin appearing the following week.

The arena was a huge tent, and as I walked inside, the big Irish copper guarding the entrance looked at my identification card and waved me through. The odor of canvas was strong, as was the smell of steam engines and burning coal. Both the giant fighting machines were already there, awaiting their respective pilots. I could also see Becky Charming standing near the side of the tent where Michael the Archangel was erect in the shadows like a holy demon. Becky was serving as Doctor Adler’s second. I waved to her, and she smiled back at me. She wore what appeared to be a female lion taming outfit, complete with pith helmet and gabardine dress. She was, as usual, quite attractive, and I controlled my urge to rush over and give her an embrace of affection.

All the important gentlemen and a few ladies of distinction were assembled in the box seats surrounding the arena. The arena itself was enclosed inside a wire cage. The rules of engagement in the duel were such that no steam man could use the violent weaponry at its disposal. No Gatling guns, no flaming balls of fire, and no projectiles or bombs of any kind could be used in the duel. Only the sword and whatever ingenious contraption developed by the inventor were allowed during the battle royal. This rule, of course, was in place because of the dignitaries present in the audience.