Steampunk Omnibus: A Galvanic Century Collection (30 page)

"Stop her!"

Aldora had just placed her eighth keg when Sarsosa and his men returned to the central chamber. At the priest's cry, one of his men took a knee, shouldered his rifle, and fired in one smooth motion, the heat from the round's passage caressing the side of her neck. She ducked aside, back into the shelter of the clockwork mechanism.

"
Idiota!
" Sarsosa pulled his pistol and shot the kneeling mercenary in the temple. "Don't risk the tower. Kill the woman if you must, but preserve the mechanism!"

The soldiers swarmed towards the tower, leaving their dead comrade by Sarsosa's feet.

Aldora retreated to the centre of the machine and began climbing, using its brass pipes and steel rods as hand-holds. The soldiers ran up the scaffolding, entering the tower above and below her, some with machetes or knives in hand.

A grasping hand reached through the network of pipes towards her, and she grabbed it by the fingers, twisting them until they broke with a loud snap. Their owner fell screaming.

Down below another mercenary, climbing up after her, swiped at her ankle with his machete, missing by mere inches. She let her grip go and dropped half-a-foot to plant her heel squarely between his eyes; he fell with a yell to collide with the man below him as she continued her ascent.

Aldora climbed until she was level with the highest scaffolding at the peak of the tower.

A nearly out-of-breath Russian mercenary was thundering up the ramp towards her, serrated knife in hand, twisted grimace on his scarred face. She pulled a wooden rod from the scaffold just in time to parry a vicious swipe, returning a clumsy riposte that impacted sharply with the man's breastbone. She adjusted her grip to account for the stick's weight and balance.

When the man next slashed his blade at her face she struck his wrist with the side of the rod, shattering the joint, then jabbed the end of it into his throat.

The Russian fell to his knees, gasping and holding his trachea. Aldora calmly retrieved the pistol from his hip-holster, then shoved him off the top of the tower with the pad of her foot, watching with quiet satisfaction as he tumbled to the stone floor below.

More mercenaries climbed, converging to trap her at the top.

Aldora picked up the Russian's dropped knife and used it to quickly cut the twine binding the long vertical pole from the scaffolding nearest her, then swung down to wrap her arms and legs around its length. Her momentum carried it away from the tower, twine further down its length snapping as the weight strained it. She rode the falling pole until it lodged against the far wall, the impact almost jarring the strength from her limbs.

"Get her!" Sarsosa cried. "She's away from the machine -- shoot her!"

Aldora hung by her knees from the pole, hem of her tunic trapped between her thighs, bending backwards at the waist until she was fully inverted, aiming the Russian's pistol at one of the gunpowder kegs near the tower's base.

Mercenaries braced their rifles against the tower's pipes, rods, and levers, taking aim and firing, their deadly rounds impacting the limestone blocks around Aldora. She shut out the danger, shut out the distraction, closed one eye, aimed, and pulled the trigger.

***

Explosion.

Falling.

Impact.

Pain.

Black.

Get up.

Get up.

***

Aldora had only blacked out for a moment.

When her senses returned she was deaf save for a powerful ringing in her ears, and at first the blackness made her fear blindness as well.

Bereft of her two primary senses, Aldora stumbled through a dark abyss, feeling only the pain of what was probably a broken arm and smelling the potent mixture of spent cordite, scorched brass, and burning flesh. Her good arm extended its hand to help her navigate as she crawled over ruined debris.

As her eyes adjusted she noted a dim glow from small pockets of burning refuse, providing enough light to see by. The concussive force of the explosion had damaged the temple's structure and it was in danger of collapse. Many of the tunnels leading away from the central chamber had already crumbled, including the one leading outside.

She turned from it, making her way towards the passage leading to the Mayan escape tunnel.

Her sense of hearing began to return slowly, first with a hollow echoing that eventually resolved itself into a single shouted word.

"FISKE!"

It was Jago Sarsosa. Somehow he had survived the explosion.

"FISKE!"

He sounded maddened, whether from the pain or from the rage at being thwarted.

There was a low bass boom followed by a crack. Sarsosa was shooting at her.

Aldora looked over her shoulder to see the fallen priest shambling in pursuit. His face looked masked in crimson, his hair jagged with stiffening blood, one eye bright with anger, the other gone dark. He was limping, but not exactly slowly, one shaking hand levelling a pistol in her direction.

He fired again, missing by inches only because of his loss of depth perception. He was adjusting quickly.

Aldora turned and crawled over the debris as fast as her broken arm allowed. Her legs were uninjured but she found it hard to focus, hard to move quickly.

"I am concussed," she said conversationally, her voice distant and cloudy in her ears.

She staggered sideways down the corridor leading to the ancient escape tunnel, a bullet impacting where her head had been moments before.

Aldora reached the ladder down, slowly but carefully navigating it one-handed, her balance still off. She misjudged one of the middle rungs and fell to the ground below, jarring her shattered shoulder and giving out an involuntary cry.

Sarsosa leapt down from above, sturdy boots landing next to her, pistol in hand. His left knee buckled but he did not fall, a grimace distorting his lips, blood dripping from his ruined eye, down his cheek, to fall upon his waistcoat. What she could make out through the dull light filtering from above was horrific.

"
Mato usted
," he managed through gritted teeth, bringing his pistol to bear.

Aldora lashed out with her foot, the ball of her toe kicking the gun out of his hand. It fell into the electrified battery pond with a crackling spark, lightning dancing along the metal casing even as it sank, illuminating their struggle from below.

"
Mato con mis manos
!"

Sarsosa lunged faster than the concussed gentlewoman could react, his powerful calloused hands wrapping around Aldora's slender neck.

A greyness came to her already fading vision as he cut off the oxygen supply to her lungs, literally choking the life out of her.

Her one good hand flailed uselessly at his arm, unable to reach his face or neck, until, her will fading, it fell to rest on the pool's bank. Her fingertips touched sharp flint.

Almost instinctively, her fingers closed around it, finding a bit of broken shaft, the tip of a spear skipped across an electric pond hours earlier.

Summoning the last of her will, the last of her strength, Aldora gripped the spearhead firmly before driving it around, up and into Sarsosa's remaining eye. He screamed and let go of her neck, his hands flying to his ruined face, legs kicking in agony for the time it took the woman to regain her breath.

By the time she had recovered, he was still.

Aldora stared at the dead Spaniard for a long moment, until the light from his sparking gun had finally faded away, leaving her in absolute blackness.

"Henry," she whispered, leaning her head back against the tunnel wall. It would be so easy to let go, now. To let the rumbling in the stone against her back lure her down into oblivion, to give up the finger-hold she had onto life, to let herself slip away into the comforting stillness of death. She had fought hard. She had won. She had defeated Father Sarsosa and avenged the murder of her lost love. She had kept her promise to Penelope.

Most of her promise.

Penny was alone, now, without a parent. She faced a life alone as an urchin, or toiling away in a work-house, if she ever made it back to England. Lord only knew what dangers orphans faced here in Mexico. The girl needed her, and she'd given her the hope of a stable life. She'd given her word. As appealing as the peace of death felt, Aldora had given her word, and she was a Lady of her word.

"Penelope," she whispered, summoning all her will. She stood, bracing herself against the wall to rise, next to the dead Spaniard.

There was one obstacle left in her way. She stood at the edge of the deadly pool she could no longer see, then strode to the back of her side of the pond.

Four paces.

About eight to ten feet.

Her flagging endurance would have to suffice.

Aldora tensed for but a moment, then sprang forward, bare feet flying across limestone until she judged herself at the edge of the pool, then leapt.

***

"I would never have dreamed that a mere woman could accomplish so much destruction," the Colonel said.

The escaped captives crouched in the jungle at the edge of Zipactonal's clearing, watching the last few standing pillars of stone collapse into the ruin.

"A remarkable woman, even for a Fiske," Carvel said. "I daresay in the mould of Queen Victoria herself. We'll not see her like again."

"She's not dead," Penny said, stepping forward. "She can't be!"

"Capable she may have been," Carvel said, "but no one could have survived that."

"She could!" Penny turned burying her face in Amotzxil's tunic. "Aldora's too... she can't be dead!"

Kelley looked away awkwardly.

"She... she's all I have."

Amoxtli started, then pointed towards the ruins. "
Xchúupal! 'U'uyeh
!"

A shambling figure became visible in the smoke and dust, stopping and abruptly straightening as it neared the periphery. A warm wind blew across the clearing, revealing the bedraggled but distinct form of Miss Aldora Fiske. She was limping, one arm hung limply at her side, and her face was bloodied, but the gentlewoman was very much alive.

The adults watched in shock as Aldora approached, only young Penny breaking ranks to throw herself bodily into the ragged woman. She caught her gingerly, no trace of pain crossing her face as she held the sobbing child.

Her eyes sought out the Colonel, steady, clear, challenging.

The man looked away.

***

"Is this where I'll be living?" Penny looked up at the Fiske townhouse. She didn't have much luggage, just a few outfits that the girls had picked up in Mérida before their trip back to London.

"Impressed?" Aldora asked. She'd acquired new clothing as well, pleased with the availability of European-style garments in the Mexican port city, only a few seasons out of date.

"It's nice." Penny was good at sounding polite but unimpressed. "Not as nice as a Maharajah's palace of course, but it'll do."

Aldora adjusted her parasol, hiding her smile. "I am ever so pleased that it meets with your approval."

Penny smoothed out the unfamiliar lacy hem of her skirt. "I've never... lived in a house, you know. Father and I... we always kept moving, staying with others. I've never had a home."

The townhouse's door opened to emit Aldora's fiancé Bartleby. He flashed the girls a grin.

Aldora rolled her eyes. "Penelope, this is my fiancé, Alton Bartleby. Mr. Bartleby has a home of his own, though you wouldn't realise it from how often you'll find him here."

"Penny," the girl said, giving a small curtsy.

"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Robinson," Alton said. He stepped aside, revealing a young Chinese girl in a short sleeved dress. "Allow me to introduce to you Miss Xin Yang, ward of my business partner."

"你是我的朋友吗？" The Chinese girl stepped forward with a friendly smile.

Penny blinked with pleasant surprise, then responded in Xin Yang's own tongue. "是的！让我们成为最好的朋友！"

She turned to Aldora. "She wants to be friends!"

"I know." Aldora stepped aside towards her fiancé. "I understand Mandarin. Why don't you two run off to the yard? Xin Yang can show you around the grounds."

Penny dropped her small bag and ran off, hand-in-hand, with the other girl.

Aldora turned to Alton. "You did that on purpose."

"Did what?" Alton asked. "I simply thought that your new foster might enjoy someone her own age to play with while adjusting to her new household."

"Nothing you think is simple."

"And if you should happen to decide that a more permanent stewardship of Xin Yang might be occasionally a benefit..."

Aldora laughed. "Does James know you're here?"

"Oh good lord no. He prefers to have the girl in our own home, even though he never leaves his workshop. The chap can be a bit... overprotective at times."