Chapter 67 - Getting into the spirit of things
Chapter Text
In what seemed like months, the journey of the Kalipso was nearing its end. For the last two evenings, Tanya let them remove the screen from the dining and she gave actual performances. She practiced singing and playing the piano at the same time. No one seemed to mind they she threw in parts of the Lost Symphony now and then and the passengers merely thought she was showing off and that her range wasn't limited to just contemporary music. In fact, their reaction was so tremendous that the ecstatic Captain sent several magnums of champagne to her suite.
With most of her subordinates (and her teacher) there, and only them, Tanya finally felt free to sample the first taste of alcohol since that terrible day in Idola. Technically, we are on the seas... the laws of nations don't apply, just those of the sea! She looked at the bottle and knew, by reputation, that it was a very good cru and year. Trying not to appear unseemly, she popped the cork only belated remembering how fast they went as she caught it with a hasty spell.
The first bottle was distributed to many glasses and Rudolf rose to make the first toast. "Let's raise a glass to our gracious host, the Captain, and also to our indomitable leader!" He grinned toothily. "I only put the Captain first as we drinking his booze."
"Cheers!" Everyone, except Tanya of course since was the one being toasted, enjoyed their first glass of the night.
She sipped the champagne and was enraptured by its dessert aromas. It's similar to a d'Ambonnay with toasty notes but with a brighter acidity. So tasty! In her past life, she had enjoyed the drier wines but she had a slight preference for sweet in this body. Or, judging by her preferred snacks, perhaps more than slight.
The impromptu party was the final release of the tensions that had had built up through the trip including, of course, the bombing! All around were bright smiles and happy banter. A few men started up some terrible singing that was quite unavoidable.
Frau Seidel likewise did not indulge heavily but, though it had been years since she had put it to the test, she was nearly immune to strong drink. She smiled at the foolishness around them. "If they were any more off-key, we'd need to retune the pianos."
Tanya, on the other hand, had left any hint of alcohol tolerance in another world. She was a bit tipsy just from a half glass. "Ah, ha ha! Good spirits make even the worst singing tolerable." She lifted her flute and took another mouthful, savoring it. "These spirits as well!"
"How is your 'project' going?"
"I've practiced the published parts and I'm nearly finished scoring the rest."
The older woman's eyebrows raised. "So soon? Even one movement is not a simple thing."
"It's easy." She tapped her head with one finger. "I have heard the entire piece. I just need to write it all down. Ah, I can't wait for people to hear it!"
"You'll be attacked, you realized. Beethoven, even after all this time, is still beloved."
Tanya smirked. "I've been attacked before. It doesn't scare me." She attempted to drink some more champagne, belated noticed that her flute was empty and then refilled it with a freshly opened bottle. "I can't lose on this, actually. Either people will think it is a fitting conclusion and appreciate it just for that. Or they will think it's not enough like Beethoven but enjoy it for itself."
"Tanya... that's only if they like it."
The ex-soldier cocked her head to one side. "Hmmm? Oh, they won't have a choice."
"No? Oh, well I guess I'll wait to hear the full thing, then." Tanya had offered to play it for her but, so far, she had refused. She was still shocked by the confidence of the young woman. "Do you know what makes you so different from most pianists?"
I do, but I bet you don't, sensei! "What's that?"
"Most musicians go through three stages. They first learn the basics; the understanding of music in general and the mechanics of their instruments. Next they learn the compositions and the direction of the composers. Finally, they develop their own voice and style. Know your instrument, know the music, know yourself." She held up three fingers. "You, though, more than any other musician I've known, already have your own path. You had the basics down when we met and you are working on the middle but it's like you're just filling the empty spaces of a completed sketch. I've never met anyone who knew themselves as completely as you and it's quite remarkable."
"I dun think it's that impreshive. I'm just playing what I've heard. Annywun could do it." Tanya finished her drink, enjoying the bubbles and the flavor. Might have to import some of the better vintages from Europa. Boatloads and boatloads! Embassy mail is great!
Even now, she's ascribing her particular genius to her muse. I doubt I've ever met anyone so unwilling to be admired for her accomplishments. No, that's not quite right. She wore the medals she was given but her artistic humility is enormous. "Is it so wrong to take credit for the music you've given to the world? I've listened to your recordings, they are quite entertaining if not exactly what I'm used to."
Tanya paused, looking down at her refreshed drink. "That's one reason I am doing thish. Everyone calls me the vilest criminal. A monster woman that doesn't desherve to live." She enunciated very clearly. "I am not a woman! Um, monster woman. Not one of those."
"So you choose to sing to show them another side of you. Taking credit or not, is that such a bad thing?" She tasted her champagne, matching Tanya glass for glass but hardly feeling it. "Sing the songs you want. Do the things you want. Live the way you want. I'm sure you'll make the right choices. After all, haven't you done so, so far?"
She pondered this advice and suddenly slapped her hand on the table. "That's right! If I want to be good, I'll be good! If I want to be bad, I'll be bad! Why do I care what they think?"
"That's not exactly..."
Unheeding of what Frau Seidel was saying, Tanya went to the piano, paused briefly and began to sing and play. She started with a rousing rendition of Somebody's Knocking.
Somebody's knockin'
Should I let him in?
Lord, it's the devil
Would you look at him?
I've heard about him
But I never dreamed
He'd have blue eyes and blue jeans!
Her off the cuff rendition was a little rough but she had grown used to through long practice and her fellow partiers greatly enjoyed it. She didn't bother to translate into Germanian as all her people were chosen for their knowledge of Anglish as well as other skills. She immediately launched into Long Cool Woman in a Black Dress which made them chuckle as they refilled their drinks. Tanya took another drink, beer this time, a nice hoppy one that also quenched her thirst.
Witchy Woman came next and tried to give it the percussion by clapping when necessary that she would otherwise be lacking. Her rendition lacked the slightly rough timbre of Henley's voice but she made up for it by jazzing up her chording a bit. "She held me spellbound in the night; Dancing shadows and firelight."
After that moody and engaging song, she brightened up with Devil With a Blue Dress On. Standing up, she used her whole body to pound the keys like she was in a smoky piano bar in Harajuku. After a few more song in the same theme, she rounded out the impromptu set with Evil Woman by ELO.
Rolled in from another town
Hit some gold, too hard to settle down
But a fool and his money soon go separate ways
And you found a fool lyin' in a daze
Ha, ha, woman, what you gonna do?
You destroyed all the virtues that the Lord gave you
It's so good that you're feelin' pain
But you better get your face on board the very next train
She grinned as she finished up, because she had realized something very important while singing all these 'bad girl' songs. She almost didn't notice the laughter and applause and she just bowed after she stood up with a tiny stagger.
Alas, two things happened she much regretted. The first was she forgot her moment of inspiration to the point that she could barely remember she had it. The second was that a quick-witted member of the crew managed to record her entire performance and bootleg copies of the Devil With a Blue Dress recording spread faster than could be explained even if one assumed the albums could fly on their own.
* * *
Oskar and Wilson looked over the concert hall they had suddenly rented. It was the largest nice one that could be had on short notice. Getting the orchestra had been surprisingly simple as making a living as a professional musician could be quite hard and even a week's practice plus a three days of performing was a welcome addition to their bottom line. In fact, they had managed to get both at the same time as unused concert halls frequently had connections to idle musicians.
The prince, using all his under-utilized diplomacy skills, found the venue and argued down the rental fee. The owner had been quite adamant about the price but changed his attitude after meeting in person and talking with him.
Oskar nodded regally. Finally, I'm able to use at least some of the skills that an ambassador should have. Perhaps I can graduate from negotiating minor contracts to doing something of real importance. Still, at least this fellow acknowledges my abilities. That's nothing bad.
The hall owner also nodded, all smiles. This Oskar is so regal and has a magnificent bearing. I wonder if he is interested in acting? His boss is a colonel and a singer. Why not have a prince that's an actor? Let's give him a good deal and maybe encourage him in more thespian pursuits, hmmm?Nothing risque, at least not at first, but once one has been bitten by the theater bug, they never go back! "Your counteroffer is more than reasonable now that I know people of character will be using the hall. You can't be too careful, of course! So you say you'll need it for just two weeks?"
"Ten days minimum with the unlikely possibility of an extension. We don't mind paying a fee to reserve the remaining days. Of course, we'll forfeit it if we don't need the extra time."
"That's more than acceptable, Mr. Gustav. If we find another renter, we'll refund it. When shall we expect Miss Degurechaff?"
Gustav paused. "I advise you to use the honorifics with von Degurechaff. Remember that her reputation precedes her and is well earned."
"Of course! Hereafter, she shall always be Ambassador or President in my heart! When we will meet her august personage? And, between you and me, is she as fierce as they say?"
"I haven't met her but from all accounts... the stories pale from the truth, and the truth itself is too outlandish to be believed." He smiled and put a hand on the owner's shoulder. "You'll meet her in just a day. Rejoice!"
* * *
Local Armory Raided
The local branch of the Army Reserves was broken into and vandalized on Sunday. The base commander would not answer questions but in a prepared statement, declared, "They made quite a mess and it will take time to inventory the damage but we believe it was just some vagrants. The only thing that was definitively stolen was preserved foods. We've done a full inventory of weapons and all are accounted for. We are taking steps to prevent a recurrence of this event."
* * *
Serebryakov hummed as she organized the day's work. As the head of TvD in Tanya's absence, she found that she had more to do but she rose magnificently to the challenge. She kept everything within reason, however. As the president once told her, If the boss is working sixteen hour days, every day, then it sends the expectation that everyone should do that. That's no way to run a business... or an army! Productivity drops dramatically after 8-10 hours and certainly after a few weeks without a break. You always have to think to the long term... it's not what you can get out of your workers today, but also tomorrow, next week, next month or even the next decade.
"How kind she is. She sometimes talks tough as the leader, but she's always looking out for everyone else."
"Eh, did you speak to me Vice President?" Now that Visha was the head of operations, she needed her own assistant to handle matters and Cecile was quite sharp.
"Just thinking aloud. The President has told me so many things about running a business, that sometimes something she said years ago becomes relevant when I least expect it."
"Oh, how so?"
"I'll give you an example and you can see how it works. Anything puzzling you?"
The woman paused and then continued tentatively, "The Kinder Project..."
"Ah! Very good example! You may have noticed that we have preferentially hired veterans and widows yes? On the surface, the reason seems quite mercenary. They will work more cheaply than most and also have a higher degree of loyalty."
She nodded, but didn't reply.
"But there is a deeper level as well. By engaging so many workers at lower wages, we have the opportunity to find the diamonds in the rough and polish them up. They gain skills and value and their wages rise over time. Even those who have no particular talent can grow as they become more useful to the business."
Visha waved toward the window outside. "But there's a level beneath even that. If you had to group the three main victims of the war, and of our defeat, who would they be?"
"The dead aside, there are the crippled veterans, the widows and... oh!" Enlightenment came to her eyes. "The orphans!"
"Precisely. Each group is hampered in different ways and each lacks the support needed to help themselves. Permanent injuries, women who are unmarried and unemployed, or the young: any of these factors can make it nearly impossible to survive when charity is lacking. But the President doesn't do charity. She said, 'Visha, charity is the second most pernicious source of evil on the planet. It's almost solely to make the giver feel good without solving anyone's problems. I'd much rather give someone a job, or teach them a skill and give them the opportunity to participate in the economy. The worst part about charity is that it leads to government sponsored largesse which is nothing more than spending taxpayer money to get re-elected!'"
"Th-that's very deep." Cecile pondered the idea. It somehow seemed wrong to her but she could find any flaws in the idea.
"So that's why I initiated the Kinder Project. One reason TvD works so well is that we function more like a family than a traditional business. We still seek profits, yes, but we also look out for each other." She looked solemn. "Tanya came so close to falling in all three categories at once! So the Project will help the orphans both survive today and also learn skills that will help them survive tomorrow. Those who are close to adulthood can take our company classes in needed skills and be guaranteed a good job."
"I see! Since they finish their schooling with everything they need, there's no uncertainty in employment."
"And TvD always has the proper workforce for whatever we have planned."
"You are getting more like the boss every day, Vice President! It sounds exactly like something she would enact if she had the time. The Tanyajugend could be quite the force for progress in the future."
"Tanya youth, hmm? That sounds like a good name for them."
Cecile was about to return to her delayed tasks and paused. "Say, what did the President say was the most pernicious source of evil?"
"She... didn't actually say. All I heard was 'X' under her breath."
"How mysterious!"
* * *
Felite, Isabel and Lucie kept Le Train de Tanya in tip-top shape even in her absence. Such tasks took very little time and they spent the rest of the day gossiping, reading, or listening to the radio. Still, even thought such idleness was welcome at first it began to pall after awhile.
Felite laid on the freshly made bed and complained, "I am so bored!"
"You could always find something to do with your time, you know." Lucie was holding a book on Anglish grammar and was making notes diligently. She waved the book gently. "For example."
"That would make me more bored. Do you have any ideas Isa?"
"Nothing that would help you, 'leet. Honestly, I'm just happy that TvD has picked up our salaries after the government cut off our funding." Technically, they had been paid out of a special slush fund to handle all thing 'Degurechaff' and a bureaucrat finally noticed that the maintenance of the train (along with three salaries) had continued long after she had left the country.
"Well that is good, I suppose." She sighed heavily. "Hey, has today's newspapers arrived yet? There might be a followup story about the bombing!"
Isabel looked through the stack. Part of the 'maintenance' of the train car was making sure it was supplied with the latest news. Frankly, other than supporting the maids themselves, that was about the only expense. But some clever soul who knew Tanya's preferences insisted that this was important and so the papers continued.
"Oh, hey, here's an article about Tanya's arrival in the Unified States! There's even a nice picture!"
The others gathered around and looked at it. It was a New York paper but of high quality. "Isa, read it!"
"I'll try. Hmmm... Oh, this is just rude! 'Devil of the Rhine is the Hero of the Atlantic'. Can't they just get over that whole war thing?"
"Never mind that, keep reading!"
She translated most of it, slowly, but tried to keep to the high spots. "She and her entourage are going to be spending some time in New York and she's even holding a concert there!"
"Lucky!" chimed the other two.
Lucie, the worst of the three when it came to Anglish, mostly just concentrated on the pictures while listening. "I think they are using the new process from TvD for the picture. Look how vivid it is! But... Felite, hand me the magnifier, would you?"
"Sure, but why?"
She didn't answer but instead examined the photo carefully. Finally, she said grimly, "Girls, something must be done."
"Eh? What's that?"
"Look at her picture!"
At first they didn't see it but then they noticed. "Wait, that braiding. There's no way she could have done it herself!"
"Look at the woman in the background with the staff. Look right there." She pointed with a finger filled with righteous indignation.
Felite gasped. "Is that a maid's apron she's wearing! And, her pocket, the handle of a hairbrush!"
Isabel quickly grasped the gist. "She's trying to replace us! What can we do? What can we do?!"
Lucie said firmly. "We all have vacation time accrued with TvD. None of us have used it since our jobs aren't very hard. It's time to pack... we are going to New York!"
Chapter 68 - Lady of the Harbor
Tanya leaned against the railing at the prow of the ship, letting the wind blow her hair back. If she could have seen herself, she would have been reminded of a certain movie. As it was, she was just enjoying the breeze generated mostly by the forward movement of the ship. If you can't count on the weather, make your own, eh? In the days of sailing ships, a little magic could have gone a long way in moving things around but today steam is more efficient. Maybe we should start a sport using sailing boats with mage crews? Flight capable mages are rare, but ones that can generate a bit of wind aren't uncommon. She jotted down her ideas and then slipped the little notebook back into a concealed pocket where she knew it would be safe.
The Captain walked beside her, looking nothing like Leonardo DiCaprio... not that she cared! "It's a beautiful way to end a voyage. A bit slower and a bit bruised but a fine day, a fine day indeed."
"Good job Captain, and thank you."
"Ahhhh, what did I do? Just gave orders and somehow other people did the work."
"Since that describes 90% of my job, I'll appreciate you not running it down."
They laughed together and looked to the west again. "Have you seen the Lady of the Harbor?"
She just smiled in response.
He corrected himself, "No, no of course not. Well, now that the War is over, we all can do some new things, eh?" He pointed out toward the water, "Not much longer and you'll see her. Keep this a secret but I time our arrival so that the morning sun hits her just right."
"Why a secret, then?"
"Ah, if I revealed my plan and failed to produce, people would be disappointed. And it would be less magical for them than if they thought it was something special, a happy coincidence." He nodded sagely. "Sometimes not speaking of something is better than the opposite."
Under promise and over deliver... truly this man is a visionary when it comes to customer service! I'm glad there are like-minded people even before the 'modern' age. "So what are you going to do? There was a quite a bit of damage to your ship and I doubt insurance covers such deliberate damage as this."
"Don't worry, don't worry. We have plans to cover that but, if you don't mind, we'd like to use your name a little." He held up his hand, "Nothing as crass as an endorsement! Just little markers commemorating your journey and information about the attack."
"I can't stop you, it's a matter of fact, after all. But for what it's worth, you have my permission." She thought a bit. "Though unintentional, I did bring trouble to you. Why not use that song from earlier?" Tanya sang a few measures from the chorus of 'Calypso'.
The Captain had heard of the impromptu concert but hadn't been available to hear it as he was busy at the time. What a charming song! For a landlubber, Degurechaff seems to have a love for the sea. Against his better judgment, he forced himself to say. "The rights to a song like this must be exorbitant... I would have to refuse."
"Oh, I'll keep the rights, but I'll grant you royalty-free use as long the Kalipso sails." This is fabulous! This boat will be a floating advertisement for TvD. So what if he can use that song? I've got ten-thousand more available.
He nodded and left his head bowed for a second. "How can I say no?" What a generous soul! She saves everyone at the risk of her own life and those of her men and she gives a gift of this magnitude!
* * *
...24 hours ago...
In an ideal world, the discussion the men were having would have been done in a darkened room, perhaps an abandoned warehouse or a noisome alley behind an illegal gambling hall. As it was, the room was brightly lit, with attentive waiters standing out of earshot and the speakers were well-dressed with fine clothes and clean fingernails.
"That... attempt... could have gone better. Now she is alerted to your intentions."
The dark-haired man shrugged. "It couldn't be helped. She has the senses of a hound when it comes to danger. Any closer and she would have discovered the explosives before they even went off."
The other man, blonde and handsome, picked up a salad fork. He was obviously familiar with the use of the dazzling array of gold-plated utensils and unconcerned that the meal cost more than some families would earn in several months. "This could affect your commission... and your reputation. Are you prepared to handle that?"
"I have a backup plan in place."
The blonde man paused, "Oh?"
He smiled and took a bit of his own salad, appreciating the taste and the fact that his client had paid for it. "The issue is that a small explosion is too indirect and too easy to discover. So what's needed is something much larger."
"While some collateral damage is regrettable, excessive loss of life is to be avoided. After all, we're just making omelets, not starting another Great War."
He waved away that concern. "Frankly, this plan is better than the other one but, due to the nature of things, the boat had to be first. In this case I have the perfect ally. The best assassination is one where no one can discover the perpetrator and I guarantee Tom will never say a word to anyone."
* * *
As the President would be arriving today, the conductor was getting his orchestra ready to meet her with a quick rehearsal in the morning. Mr. Robinson was a serious man and he took his music VERY seriously and he had grave misgivings.
"Hey, conductor! You're frowning again! Surely getting a paycheck for just a week's work isn't that terrible is it?" The irrepressible percussionist was smoking just off stage when he spotted the brooding man.
"Ethan, would it be too much trouble for you not to yell out every thing that crosses your mind?"
"Eh, probably not but I doubt I'll remember so you'll just have to love me as I am!" He took a last drag and flicked the butt into a bucket of sand kept for fire suppression. "Why so glum?"
"I'm responsible for this circus and I don't even know where to set up the tents! My sole instructions were to 'practice Beethoven's unfinished symphony and some Schubert's Symphony No. 8'. That's it."
"So, we're doing that, right? Do your job, get some cash. Where's the problem?"
"The problem is she's just some singer of popular music! I'm sure she an able composer if you like such things but how does that make her capable of conceiving of anything more grand than that?!"
"Eh, didn't you say Braunfels was quite taken with her just a month ago?"
Unfortunately reminded of his own words, he backtracked a bit. "Well, yes, but that's only one opinion. Also, some amateur effort... can it compare to years of experience?"
Ethan scratched his head. "Didn't Beethoven publish his first work when he was 13? And Chopin at 7?"
"But... uh." The conductor sighed. "Fine. I'm afraid that she has a so-called 'finish' to that symphony."
"That's not a bad thing."
"It's bad if it's bad, Ethan. You know how many people have tried – and failed – to complete Beethoven's great work? They range from rehashes of his first movements to the entirely original and thoroughly substandard. She might be good, but can she approach his genius?"
"She'd have to do something completely different then!"
* * *
After several days, and assistance that seemed to spring from the walls, Dr. Trapp had his clinic set up completely. As a company doctor (primarily), his job was to keep people healthy overall rather than react as sick people chose to come by on their own.
This rather suited his entire philosophy of health. The best treatment is stopping the illness before it starts. The best medicine was one that was never needed. He was rather surprised at the list of requirements he was given. He was surprised at how FEW details were actually included. "Keep people healthy." That was it. Employees had free care as part of their contracts but the flipside was that regular check-ups were mandated so Saul had his hands full organizing health initiatives and scheduling appointments for hundreds of people. On his second hour on the job, he was convinced that he needed help!
"I'm glad my budget includes assistants. I guess a nurse and an office person would be best for now."
A polite knock interrupted his thoughts. "Eh, enter please!"
Three people, two women and a man, came in. The older of the two women said, "We understand you needed some people to help with the clinic. I've had medical training, Helen was an assistant office manager, and Pete here was an ambulance driver."
Trapp stared at them. "Either someone can read minds or someone has a remarkable ability to plan things."
"Probably the latter, Doctor but sometimes I'm tempted to believe in the former. In this case, President Degurechaff hired Pete and me and we found Helen later." She gave a sharp nod. "How shall we begin?"
He had been tempted to tell them to start tomorrow but they were here, and they were ready. Why not take advantage? "Let's sort all these patient records so we can plan the next few days." In a scene that Visha and Tanya would find quite familiar, the dedicated workers started in on many stacks of paper, trying to bring order to the chaos.
* * *
Serebryakov finished with her orders from local merchants with a satisfied smile. While some things were handled with phone calls or letters, most still required some level of personal contact. More often than not, these days, they would come to the TvD headquarters with their offerings. But real opportunities rarely just showed up on their own so she made it a habit to look around and get out of the office.
Those who didn't know her would just see an attractive young woman wearing stylish clothes. Always more interested in fashion than Tanya, now that she had the money she was willing to spend some to indulge what would have been a vice in leaner times.
Besides, her current outfit was made at a TvD facility, so the price wasn't enough to trigger a twinge of guilt!
She was accompanied by one of the bankers they had 'acquired' and was with her today so they could make quick decisions. He was a newer hire and seemed a bit dazed at how fast transactions occurred... and the way they occurred. "Are all of the deals like that?"
"Hmm? For us, it's very common, actually. We can't use anything as untrustworthy as the Papiermark. And doing exchanges with gold would bring us under scrutiny and subject to unreasonable confiscation. What we have is a lot of 'things' to trade."
Dieter shook his head. He recalled reading the catalog of assets owned by TvD. His seniors had reminded him to review it every day just like a housewife checking how much is in her purse before going to the market. "I suppose not being taxable is an unintended benefit?" he said cynically.
"Oh, it was entirely intended... the President even mentioned at the last finance meeting. But it's a very small part of the usefulness of these trades. As long as we keep our portfolio well diversified, we almost always have something that someone will want." The terminology she had heard Tanya repeat over and over came off of her lips easily now. "Do you read our paper?"
"Eh? Not really, just the financial section and world news."
She smiled. "You should look in the classifieds. We put a half-page list of assets available in each issue. If someone is struggling because they need a key item, there are worse things to do than to keep track of what we have available. Smart businesses have learned to keep an eye on us to their advantage."
He took a few minutes to digest this as they walked through Berun. Visha gave him a moment of silence as she looked around attentively. This was one of the more run-down areas but she had learned to see value where others saw ruin.
"Surely not all we own can be summed in a mere half page."
"Of course not. We have critical resources we don't want to sell or ones that we have in only limited amounts. Like the rest of the advertisements, what we have in surplus is listed." She grinned. "Listed without prices. If they want some our, oh, antique clocks, they'll need to offer something we can use or stockpile for future profits."
"Antique clocks?"
"We have quite a few. It's a good thing we have plenty of surplus storage."
"The mind boggles, anything else?"
"People."
"People aren't objects, vice president!"
"Of course not but isn't unemployment just a way of saying we have surplus people? We can't advertise that, or course, but we have extensive files of people who need work and what skills they have. Oil is a resource, steel is a resource and, yes, people are a resource as well. Our most important resource. Without them, does anything else even have a value?"
"I hadn't thought about it th..." He was interrupted as a hard-faced man stepped out in front of them. He had a dirty blade, stained by an unknown substance. Two similar men appeared behind them. The one in front gestured with his knife. "Leave your money and watch." He gave a grin, showing discolored teeth. "Leave the girl, too."
Dieter, too stunned to respond either bravely or otherwise. His heart raced, never having been under threat of physical violence in his life.
The thug was about to say something else but Visha suddenly moved. A short rod appeared in her hand and and quickly extended with the snap of her wrist. In much less than a blink of an eye, a blue glow extended along its length and she swung at the man in front!
His body barely impeded the weapon as his upper torso separated from the lower. Before the parts of his body fell, she was already flying backwards over the heads of the other two. One's head exploded as she swung while in mid-air and the other was almost bisected as a diagonal slash sliced off his head and right arm and shoulder.
As she landed, three bodies collapsed behind her. A cold gleam in her eye, long absent, scanned the street and surrounding buildings as she half crouched, ready to commit mayhem in an instant. The night people who had watched the fight hastily slipped away lest they also become targets.
Only after she had determined that the danger had passed did she stand upright. The coating of magic on the rod prevented blood from sticking to it and she collapsed it with a sharp CLICK! before putting it back in her purse.
Freed from paralysis, Dieter found his voice. "S-Serebryakov. Are you okay?"
She glanced at him and he shuddered slightly. The hard look in her eye was still there. So dangerous, what is she even thinking?
"No injuries. I'm afraid our shopping trip will have to be delayed as we'll need to report this." He found his voice so quickly after this little fight. He would have done well in the war, I think. "But this is useful, in a way."
"Useful..."
"Crime is on the rise. I think the police force could use assistance from a private force. We have a lot of human resources that could be of use, I think."
Chapter 69 - Better to curse the darkness...
The assassin was cheerfully arranging for his his next and, hopefully, last attempt. He wasn't fond of the 'hands on' attitude of his employer but the man paid well (or whoever paid the man who paid him... he didn't probe as long as the checks cleared). As he was prepared for a night on the town, he had a suit with tails, white silk cravat, top hat and gloves that cost more than than an inexpensive vehicle.
He sniffed a carnation in his lapel and looked at a pocket watch (gold and platinum, with selectively placed diamonds). It didn't keep the best time but it had a long history and was unreasonably expensive, so he liked it.
His date (and the one who handled his investments) was holding onto his arm in a long evening gown that epitomized modern fashion. (It was worth about ten pairs of gloves, but she wore it because she liked it, not because of the price.) "So Eric, what is the big plan?"
"Tut-tut, darling, you know I never Tell and Kiss." He exuded a smugness that she long recognized. It was one of the reasons that he would never make a top-tier assassin. He loved the game too much to keep his enjoyment hidden.
"You seem more confident that usual."
"A little bird let me know the exact schedule of that kraut princess. And I have a secret ally that's ready to assist when the time is right."
"Ooooo, that sounds intriguiging! Anyone I know?"
"Tom is perfect for the job but he's very lower class. I doubt you'd ever meet him socially or professionally."
She pouted a bit. "I'm not that snobbish, am I?" The rubies in her earrings glittered when she turned her head slightly away from him with these words.
"Trust me, you'd be horrified if you ever met. He's good for very few things but ideal for this!"
* * *
MEN SAVAGELY BEATEN
Ten vagrants suffered severe injuries after a drunken brawl Thursday. Despite their claims that a 'devil' had descended on them to steal their food, investigators determined that cheap, illegal liquor had subjected them to mass hallucinations...
* * *
The police chief rubbed his balding head wondering if this would be the straw that robbed him of his last few hairs. "So, Vice-President Serebryakov, you were attacked by these men who were, pardon me, dismembered by you in self defense."
Visha nodded, not at all disturbed by the death she had witnessed (perpetrated). She wondered whether she should feel bad but determined that enemies were enemies no matter what their nationality. "That's pretty much what happened. Although, technically, only two were separated."
"Yes, decapitation is a better term for the third mugger." He sighed and shuffled papers around, wondering at the best way to end the interview. "Just as a formality, was there not a slightly less lethal method you could have employed?" Less murderous! The bodies made two junior policemen vomit on the spot!
The woman looked genuinely apologetic. "Honestly, there wasn't time and I was under a certain amount of pressure since I had to defend a civilian. I could have flown off, otherwise. And we never really learned non-lethal methods of defending ourselves in the army. Mind you, if I had had my shovel, I could have managed something!" She made a graphic swing with both hands and the chief could vividly imagine here doing exactly that.
"Quite, quite, I'm sure. All three were well known for a variety of burglaries and assaults so they'll be little missed. Eye witnesses are willing to testify that they were the aggressors, so I don't think there will be any need to press charges against you. It's a shame you had to be subjected to this and we appreciate you coming here to give a statement. You might want to avoid those parts of town." He sighed again. "It's terrible but we can't keep up with the level of crime proceeding. As a Christian, one wishes to be merciful but as an officer of the law, I find myself hard pressed to be sympathetic."
She shook her head. "That's impossible, chief. It's precisely because things have gotten so bad there, that TvD has to go there. While criminals are surging, aren't most of the people just hungry and desperate? Had they approached differently, I might have offered them a job or at least a meal. Those three hadn't missed many meals, though. I wonder how many people they had robbed to stay so well fed?"
"Ah, well, I guess we'll never know. As I said, some of those in the neighborhood were almost pathetically anxious to clear your name." We had to have six burly policeman to stop them from desecrating the bodies! Desecrating any further, that is.
"You see? There is also good in the world, no matter where you go. That brings me to an idea I had... partially based on something we started some number of months ago. What do you say if we established a company of private guards, many of them mages, to help bolster public safety?"
"Bodyguards? I don't see why you would need our input, or permission, to establish a service like that."
"More than mere bodyguards. I'd like them to work closely with the police. Reporting crimes, providing mutual aid when needed, even supplying expertise as needed. TvD has been increasingly coming up with new spells that are excellent at detection of weapons, explosives, poisonous substances and even whether food is spoiled! Although the latter spells seem a bit over-sensitive because some things they say are dangerous have never affected me in the slightest."
"A freikorp, eh? I can't say we don't need the help. But what will you get out of this, fraulein? Surely not just good feelings and credit in the afterlife!"
"Chief... do we not live in the same city as you? Was I not attacked just hours ago? But, you are right. In practical terms, you just have to agree to LET us help. If we are recognized as aiding the police, then we don't have to put up with petty inconveniences while we do our jobs."
He hesitated, the offer seemed too good to be true. What he didn't mention is that one of his own officers had been attacked a week ago and barely survived. "I would have to gain permission from the police commissioner for any official sanctioning but, privately, I would welcome the help."
"That's all we want to do." She smiled brilliantly and they shook hands before she retrieved Dieter from the waiting room to return to their offices.
* * *
With less fanfare than one might expect, the Germania to Francois rail lines were proceeding apace. They still were producing a net surplus of steel based on salvaged metal despite their lines extending all over the war-torn region between the two capitals.
A sleepy village mayor in Francois (whether he was a sleepy mayor or his was a sleepy village was a matter of speculation amongst his neighbors) watched a train puff past with a look of satisfaction. One of the aforementioned neighbors scowled as he saw the TvD logo on the side of the engine. "Damned Germanians coming here! What gives them the right!"
The mayor turned and harumphed. "Our commissioner of rails, that's who."
"They are taking good jobs away from the Francois, I tell you!" He pounded the table between them hard enough that he hurt his hand. He wanted to curse that as well, but since that would mean admitting he had done it to himself, he remained silent on that point.
"Hmph! What jobs? They are doing something we weren't doing at shockingly low prices. My grand-niece works for the railroad and said their price per mile was a fraction what it cost anyone else."
"Maybe.. BUT!" He raised a finger righteously! "We are only getting Germanian goods!"
The mayor was tempted to hit the man out of frustration at his stupidity but decided it was too much effort. "Achille... do you not understand how railways work? You have to build them from where they start. In Germania. Should their trains fly to Parisee to start on that side? Of course there are only Germanian products for now because the railway isn't complete yet!" He glanced at his new pen with a gold-embossed TvD logo. "Besides, is that such a bad thing? The prices are good and any money that goes to them will eventually come back to us in reparations."
He didn't mention that his grand-niece had told him the downside was that the rail was built to Germanian specifications... and that they were better than what they were replacing. Then again, most of what they replacing was ravaged by war so perhaps the comparison was hardly equitable!
The old man continued to grumble, with a bit less vehemence. His own granddaughter had left as soon as she was able and he had always blamed the rail for this. "Elyna hardly writes at all. The post has gone to shit since the war!"
Almost... almost! The mayor finally ungripped his cane before whacking his friend of many years. "She's busy. She has a good job and doesn't have time to write to some old fool."
"And a damned boyfriend! A Germanian boyfriend!"
"So? From what she says, he's very nice and treats her well. She is no fragile flower, your Elyna! When she has time, she will write. And when she has MORE time, she will visit. On THOSE rails." He pointed at them with his cane. Even from this distance, they could both see that they were painted a brilliant white color. Locals had taken to calling it the Silver Moon or Selene Line, much to Achille's displeasure.
"Bah!" The end of the train finally passed them. Compared to the old trains, it was eerily quiet. The familiar clackity-clack was gone and even the squealing of the wheels against the rails was at a minimum. "And that! It's unnatural how they run."
"Ah, that? I took a look the other day when I was walking my dogs. The rails are welded together so there are no gaps... interesting, no? Lili tells me that helps with the noise and the paint keeps them from getting too hot in the sun. Something about magic heating or somesuch. She understands better than I do, but you can ask her when she comes on holiday."
"Why would I ask her about that?"
Before he could start complaining again, the mayor cut in. "What say we go in and try a new wine she sent me? I hear it's quite a good bordeaux and will go well with some camembert I bought to go with it."
As if a light had been switched, Achille's expression went from dark to glowingly happy. "Why didn't you say so?! Let's get out of this sun and give that a try!"
* * *
More than half of the passengers had gathered on the decks to get a look at the great statue. The captain, having surprisingly little to do, chose to spend the time chatting with Tanya while his crew handled their arrival. Still, at least for appearances sake, he was on the bridge with maps of their course laid out on the chart table.
"You DO have this down to a science, don't you?" She glanced at the route laid out, feeling a pang of awful nostalgia remembering how many similar ones she saw during the war. Still, she loved maps because they were a product of rational order, of understand and of planning.
She noticed an odd curve in the route and pointed at it. "Why the detour there?"
"Oh, that?" He laughed! "New Yorkers hate garbage and aren't sure what to do with it. So they threw it in the harbor right there. Just far enough away from shore so they won't have to smell it. That's important because they've thrown SO MUCH there it has formed a tiny island! They've decided since they have an island of garbage, why not keep adding to it and use it for storage."
She shook her head. "What a mess. So you are avoiding a path near it..."
"...to avoid the stench, yes. Unfortunately, the best path to see the statue would go too close the island so we have to detour a bit. In fact, we are approaching our nearest point in just a few minutes." He glanced at his watch. "Right on time to get a good view as well."
Something about what the captain was saying struck a chord in Tanya. Now what was it? An island in New York... the Statue of Liberty. Damnit! She wracked her brain trying to pin down an elusive memory. Suddenly, her blood ran cold. "Captain! What's the name of that island?!"
A bit shocked by her sudden vehemence, he replied, "Why, that's Black Tom."
"Shit! Steer us away from it, now!" Without waiting to see if he complied, she rushed out to the deck and yelled with a magically amplified voice, "Everyone get under decks! Mages to me, full shields!"
The civilians were confused but her people snapped to as if they had drilled to do this a hundred times. Even the most stubborn of passengers, however, recognized that their savior had spoken and eventually hurried to obey her command.
"President..."
"No time, cover the ship's infrastructure, now!" She pointed to a promontory sticking out into the harbor. "Attack coming from that direction! Give me a wide shield good against explosions, not shrapnel!"
They had just gotten their shields up when a titanic explosion like the fist of God had slammed into the Earth!
Chapter 70 - Come Together, Right Now
Chapter Text
The shockwave hit the ship like a steel hand the size the size of the Empire State building! The Kalipso, struck by the explosion and the following wave tilted at nearly 45 degrees away from Black Tom. Underdecks, the passengers screamed as the floors suddenly tilted, driving them, furniture and anything not fastened down flying around the cabins. In this respect, the lower class passengers were in relatively better shape. Their rooms were smaller, with fewer open spaces and less movement overall.
Higgsbotham, expecting exactly this situation, had managed to convince those around him to use hallways opposite the blast so that they wouldn't be thrown around. Perhaps bizarrely, he was laughing as the ship continued to tilt, as if it were contemplating capsizing completely. "I say, it's never a dull day when Argent is around!"
The thinly extended shields cracked and groaned under the strain. Instead of a 'shell' used by combat mages, the shields reinforced the steel directly, allowing it to flex and absorb the damage... something that would be fatal if used on a person. As the ship continued to list, the noise of the strain continued.
Sweating mages lined the deck closest to the shore, their hands gripping the rail as the deck tilted. Magical energy extended from their bodies into the living steel under them. Finally, after a heart-stopping moment where the Kalipso almost tipped over, it finally began to right herself.
During this, Tanya had took to the skies, looking for a followup attack. A plume of smoke extended up from the promontory. Even from where they were, she could a massive crater had been gouged out of it. "Scheisse! How much ordinance was on that pile of crap?!" Her quick scans didn't reveal anything dangerous but there were several broken ships sinking near it and rail cars had been tossed like toys. "He's not one for backup plans. I guess I just have to wait for the next attack."
As she looked around, she heard a sound from behind. Given that eardrums must be ringing everywhere around, she might be the only person who could have heard it. The unique screech of overstressed metal set her teeth on edge. "What now?"
"Oh... oh! Of course!" She flew toward the great statue. Even from this distance she saw the upraised arm shake, especially the very top. What... there are people in there?! That's right, before it got damaged, tourists could go to the torch. She kicked her flight into high gear while debris, flung far into the sky, still continued to crash into land and sea alike.
* * *
Even before dawn, the musicians were practicing what they had been told to previously. Early this morning – or perhaps late last night – copyists that had been standing by received a packet of sheet music to duplicate for the orchestra. A harried courier arrived with a largish package arrived at the theater. All he knew was that he had to get the goods here as soon as possible.
"Can I get a signature, sir?" The young man pushed a paper toward the conductor.
"Eh, so soon? I heard that the ship hadn't yet made port?"
Wanting to get the signature but realizing that he wasn't going to get it without feeding his curiosity, he sat down on a crate and pushed back his low cap with one thumb. "What I know is this. They had all them scribblers waiting – with pay! – waiting on some music. Me too, 'cause someone had to get it to you, right? Mind you, most were sawin' logs since it's the middle of night. I was visiting the jakes when he arrived."
The conductor just nodded, waiting for the rest.
"He didn't drive up, walk up, or even bicycle up to the studio. He flew in carrying a package wrapped in oilcloth like it was the Crown Jewels, right? If I hadn't already 'emptied the pitcher', I'd have likely made a mess of the floor right there!" Reading his audience, he moved on. "All he says is, 'The President said to start copying' and then he falls asleep right there in the first class seats."
He patted the largish bag at his side. "They just finished up and I raced over here as soon as the ink was dry." He laughed. "It was kind of funny. They were kept going on and on about the new pens they were using. I guess copyists have their own happiness, right?"
"I'm surprised that the mage didn't fly them over himself."
"He was still out cold when I left. From the smell of him, he flew from a boat non-stop through the night. Flying looks easy but I guess it takes a lot o' effort."
The conductor, now more curious about the music than it's method of delivery, reached for the bag, only to have a invoice pushed into his hands. "Speaking of ink – and effort – maybe a bit for the delivery, eh?"
After seeing the talkative courier on his way (with a reasonable tip), the conductor read the letter that came with the scores. "The order of the pieces has some flexibility except for the first and last. These must remain where they are."
Intrigued, he looked at the first, Degurechaff's March. "Hmmm, this is one Braunfels enjoyed so much. Let's see what turned his head, eh?" Like some, though not all, musicians, he could hear the music in his head as read along to the music, humming softly under his breath. The driving beat and the use of dark minor chords sent a shiver up his back. He could almost feel the oppressive weight of the timpani and brass as they garnered, no DEMANDED respect. "Good lord... how could someone so young compose this?"
He sat back and balanced and rebalanced the parts mentally. Each time it became more perfect. "Why was she a soldier with this talent? What a businessman? Why a diplomat of all things! She could take the musical world by storm with this kind of talent. Ah, I supposed she has, in a way." It was then he remember the last piece, simply titled "Ode to Joy" and subtitled, "The final movement to Beethoven's Ninth Symphony". He was tempted to snort at the hubris but after hearing Degurechaff's March, he was less inclined to doubt her.
"The chorus and soloists are here? But he never used..." Then he remembered that Beethoven was an innovator, a true rebel! People thought of him as being a classicist in modern times but his contemporaries hated his avant-garde attitudes. "No, no this is something Ludwig would have done. It would have been his crowning achievement. The biggest slap in the face imaginable!"
Restraining a shake in his hand, he began to read, to listen, to experience what only one person on the entire planet had ever heard.
He didn't know how long he sat there.
In a silent room, alone with just the music in his head, as Beethoven was said to have spent his last months, he just... listened.
Finally, he roared, "Stop everything. We are going to make music! No, we are going to make history!"
The music the orchestra was working on (and pretty sick of by now) was quickly replaced by the new work. "You have five minutes. Look over your parts and we'll run it through one time without rehearsing. I want everyone to hear this before we get into details."
Murmurs filled the area but none objected. They were curious as to why they hadn't gotten their new music until so late. "Keep in mind that none of this leaves these walls! I will assault anyone who talks about this new music to anyone who doesn't need to know."
"What if they take the music outside, eh?" Someone quipped.
"Those fools I will personally beat to death! Now, there isn't a moment to waste." He tapped the podium with his baton and then lifted his arms while the musicians raised their instruments matching his movement.
They were halfway through Degurechaff's March when the explosion shook the hall and rattled the windows nearly out of their frames!
* * *
Prince Oskar and Wilson, having enjoyed a pleasant breakfast at a famous eatery in SoHo, were preparing to depart for the concert hall. "It's as good as they said, Wilson but, am I wrong here, but isn't the food back at the Consulate better than this?"
"I would say so, sir. Partially, that might be attributed to the use of spirits to cook with and, of course, to accompany the meal."
"Only partially. Degurechaff is infamous for her love of food, but I had quite grasped how far that went until I compared it."
"For the reasons you mentioned, sir, some renown chefs have moved to Chicago just to cook where they aren't hampered by foolish laws. Undoubtedly you have sampled some of their wares already."
"I didn't know that! In hindsight, that makes obvious sense. Even a world-class athlete doesn't like to run with a foot in a bucket." He laughed and sipped his coffee. "I thought genteel privation might be a problem in Chicago but now it looks as though over consumption will be a greater issue!"
Wilson just raised an eyebrow and revealed an almost invisible smile that Oskar had learned to spot and interpret as 'I've heard something amusing but it would be impolite of me to point it out'.
"You disagree?"
"It's not my place to disagree with your judgment, sir. But, if I may suggest that true gluttony requires significant amounts of leisure time."
"Damned if you aren't right. If she works us as hard present as she did absent, I'll need an entire command staff to handle the tasks." He set down his cup. "Well, we've dawdled enough, let's be off."
"As you say, sir."
New York was bustling as always. As the heart of much of America's finance, especially international finance and commerce, it was constantly awash with people, people and more people! The transition from horses to motorized vehicles was proceeding more rapidly here than most places and it seemed like that all had access to a motorize carriage. A ten to one advantage for horses had almost entirely flipped for the city. The smell of petrol and fumes had replaced the odeur left behind by their four-footed competitors, a change that Oskar heartily approved of. He was a competent horseman, but he preferred them on a country estate rather than littering streets everywhere.
The noise, however, was much worse!
Wilson was driving, of course. The man seemed to have a supernatural ability to operate any vehicle that depended on liquid fuel rather than grain. Despite the cacophony and chaos caused by less-than-skilled drivers, they soon arrived at the concert hall.
With mere hours before he met the Ambassador, Oskar wanted the first task he had been assigned to go flawlessly. Or close enough. As a military man, he knew any plan would have points of failure. The trick was to survive them! While the rumors of her brutality to even her own men was likely exaggerated, there was likely enough truth in them to give one pause.
The sounds of music barely leaked out over the traffic noise. Oskar stepped out of the door that Wilson was holding open and cocked his head. "Hmmm... a march? I don't recognize it, though. Well, no sense guessing out here. Let's see what our blonde Napolean has in store for us."
"As you say, Sir."
Wilson moved to close the door when an explosion echoed through the concrete canyons of New York!
Both men, their wartime reflexes not dulled by peace, immediately sought cover. "That wasn't a bomb, that was much, much larger!" Oskar yelled to be heard over the screams and shouts of the surrounding crowds and traffic.
Wilson, holding a probably illegal weapon, was scanning the crowds. "Seems so sir. I can't imagine what could have caused a sound that large. A railroad car?"
"Far, far larger than that. It would take an entire ship or a depot. If it was closer, we'd see dust and smoke closer."
"There sir, in the distance." A plume of smoke with thinner ones to either side rose above the buildings toward the southwest.
"The harbor. Near Liberty Island, I'd wager." He was tempted to go and provide aid but realized it would just be one more body amidst the confusion. "We should be safe here and, unless you can fly, we can't do much there." He glanced at Wilson's weapon which suddenly vanished.
"Do you think Argent is involved, sir?"
He gave a little smile. "How could she not be?"
* * *
Abigail Jones was puffing slightly from the climb. Her two kids, whom she suspected were at least 70% monkey despite having given birth to them, were far ahead of her on the ladder. "C'mon, mother! We're going all the way to the top!"
The climb had started easily enough but it quickly became more cramped and dark. She was dressed to go out but she hadn't planned to do anything nearly this physical... certainly not in heels! Her eyes had adjusted to the light levels and she looked despairingly at the ladder. She craned her neck up and set her teeth. "Don't get too far ahead!" Her voice echoed oddly in the closed space.
"Ooooooookaaaaay!" "Yes, mother!"
She mumbled to herself. "I'm strong, I'm strong, I'm strong. I can do this!" She started the long climb with a quiet groan. "Are they adding more rungs as I climb? The end, it's getting further away, right?"
After a Sisyphean effort, she joined her children on the observation platform. A friend of hers let her in a bit before opening so they could have the space to themselves without jockeying for position.
"Mother, you can see forever up here!"
Her brother rolled his eyes. "Not forever you silly kid!"
"But I can! Right, mother?" She looked up with trusting blue eyes.
"Close enough, Amelia, close enough. Dawn is coming in just a few minutes and then you'll see something you'll never forget for the rest of your life. Robert, don't get so close to the edge!"
As the east gradually lightened, Robert pointed upward, "Hey you can see the sun on the tips of her crown!"
As their eyes followed the light an explosion drew their attention to the shore and then a bigger one blew a crater into the ground! A wave of force slapped them back and the observation platform shuddered. "W-What?" Abigail gripped the rail but the platform held firm other than a few of the safety panels being knocked out and falling like metal leaves to the ground below.
As the three watched with horror, something barely visible in the morning sun flew at them. When it finally hit with the speed of a locomotive, it rang the hollow statue like a dull bell... a very loud bell! The sudden jolt threw the three off their feet. Amelia skidded toward the edge but, in a burst of heroism, her brother was able to grab her and pull her back before she could slide through a gap in the platform.
Mrs. Jones yelled, "Down the ladder!" Unfortunately, as they let go of the rail to descend, the arm shook again as it shifted forward, causing them to stagger and almost fall down again. All three were thrown against the rail which screeched under the strain as welds popped out in rapid succession. The arm began to slowly list but far, far too fast for the trapped family.
And then...
Tanya finally arrived!
Chapter 71 - Aftershock
Tanya threw up a signal flare big enough to be seen all over the harbor (and much of the city) as she flew toward the trapped civilians. Damn, the arm can't hold more than a few seconds... it must weigh tons! And the inner passageway is too dangerous to get down right now!
She could see the three on the platform, barely hanging on, moments away from utter panic.
Seeing a savior when all hope was lost was too much to believe even with the evidence of her own eye. But any hope was better than none and Abigail's maternal instincts overrode any fear she had. "Save my children! Please!"
Though just as frightened, Robert pushed his sister forward while biting his lip.
"I've carried bigger loads... on foot!" Between her and the help of their mother, she pulled Amelia under arm. The little girl clung to her a like a koala, burying her face into Tanya's clothes.
"Come on, soldier, you next!" It was a bit harder to handle the second child, but the arm jerked a little more and she had to grab him before he fell off.
See the mage's arms full, Abigail felt a weight lift from her heart. "I love you, my beautiful children! Grow up well, Amelia. Take care of your sister, Robert. I lo..."
"Don't be stupid and hurry up!"
Eh?
"Eh?"
"I said I can carry you all, but my hands are full!" The arms shifted again, throwing decades of dirt and pigeon dung flying. "Climb on my back and hurry!"
The woman awkwardly hugged the smaller woman from behind in what could not in any way be described as graceful. Once they were next to her, her magic could envelop them somewhat, easing the strain.
Oof! I've carried more, but not without magical help! The three of them weigh about what one male army mage weighs... with gear. The glow in her eyes intensified as she gained altitude. Not more than ten seconds later, her (current mages showed up), some being supported by others.
"Orders, ma'am!"
"Everyone who is good at heavy weights, push that arm back into position and hold! Welders, repair the damage before the metal is out of shape. Move!" If we don't fix that thing, they are probably going to blame ME for this mess! That arm alone could crush dozens below.
After the first bombing incident, Tanya had everyone review the skills they had learned on the rail project. Some mages, while hopeless at flight, were quite good at moving large amounts of rock or metal. Others were talented with heat spells and some of them even had industrial experience.
The metal mages called out, "Together now, boys... PUSH!" They put their hands on the metal arm and gave it a solid heave. The metal groaned again, but quieter this time. Slowly, at Tanya's direction, they moved it back a few feet to the proper position. A brave soul climbed down into the arm infrastructure and they could see erratic lights flickering through the open doorway.
He came out after a few minutes with a thumbs up. The other mages cheered and gratefully released their hold on the metal which was once again silent. "It's a patch job, ma'am, but it will hold until they get some guys up here. And there's a godawful dent and some holes there that they are going to have to fix or there will be leaks into the framework."
"Work for another day." Still encumbered, she asked her unexpected passengers, "Would you like to rest on our ship until we make port?"
Abigail wasn't sure how to answer, but her son immediately said, "Yes!"
His mother was mortified, "Robert!"
"I mean, yes ma'am!"
The entire group flew back, weary in the extreme. Whatever reserves they had after saving the ship were now exhausted. This was supposed to be an easy semi-luxury voyage!
She landed next to the Captain and was finally able to relieve herself of her burden. "I have a few extra guests, could you make them comfortable until we're sure where we can make landing?"
"Ha ha! Any friend of yours is also our friend." He gave an elaborate bow to the trio, "Welcome to the Kalipso! It must have been hard for you, but perhaps breakfast would help... once we get everything set aright in the kitchen and dining room."
The reinforcement of the mages had protected the infrastructure of the ship. In fact, despite the explosion being much larger, there was less damage and it was superficial at worst. Within an hour, the three dazzled newcomers were seated to breakfast at the same table as the captain and Tanya herself.
After the adrenaline had washed from their systems, other instincts took over for the family. As they had planned to eat after their trip to Liberty Island, Abigail and her children were quite ravenous and greatly enjoyed the food. They didn't know that the first class passengers got the equivalent of what would be served in a luxury restaurant but they did know what they liked.
"Wow, the pancakes are rolled like fancy cigars! And it has chocolate on top!" Robert grabbed another one of the fried delicacies.
"Those are crepes, sweetheart."
He didn't respond as that would slow down consumption. His sister was a bit quieter and her crepes were garnished with a strawberry compote and cream. Abigail had quite the time cleaning chocolate from a happy face on her left and slightly less strawberry off on her right. In between, though, she was enraptured by the decadent breakfast herself.
Never a heavy eater, Tanya sampled rather than ate heavily. Enjoying sweets was the best reason for breakfast, though, so she had some of everything. She did indulge in a mimosa as a last hurrah before prohibition took effect. Technically, being in the harbor put her under the laws of the Unified States but it was a common practice not to enforce the alcohol laws on foreign ships that weren't docked.
Abigail finally said, "We should really be going..." She looked torn. Her morning sightseeing trip, turned near tragedy, had become a luxury vacation.
"We'll get to dock in a few hours and we sent word via wireless that you're safe." The captain smiles amiably. "Please, be our guest for a little longer."
She bit her lip. "Well, if we must. Thank you."
"What's for lunch?!"
"Robert!"
* * *
The commander of the ammunition depot was awakened, not by the blast, but by a frantic phone call. He answered groggily but immediately ready for battle... of sort. "Whatever you are calling about better be as important as your court martial!"
"Sir! It, it's exploded?"
Much more awake. "What are you talking about, man, spit it out!"
"Black Tom blew up just a few minutes ago. It's nothing but a crater now... I saw it with my own eyes."
Commander Jenkins closed his eyes. "How many casualties?"
"Just four we can confirm. Two guards at the watchstation, one civilian on a barge and one bystander hit by debris a hundred yards away." He didn't hear a response, so he continued. "It was a stroke of luck that it happened so early in the day. There were no workers on site or more ships docked."
"I want our people all over that crater, pronto. Not a flea goes in or out of that island until I say so!"
"Sir! Yes sir!"
Jenkins decided to share his wakefulness. After two rings, the phone picked up. "Hooper here. This had better..."
"Can it, Edwin, this is important. My ammo depot was just blown sky high and I need more men who can do investigation. My guys can plug a nickle from fifty yards and give you back the change but there isn't a Sherlock Holmes in the bunch."
Now as awake as his friend, he responded. "I'll have people there before nightfall."
"Thanks, I'll buy you a beer when we get together."
"You know, that's still against the law, right?"
"I never said where or when. I have a million things to do, thanks for the backup."
"You'll get answers, or my name isn't J. Edwin Hooper!"
* * *
In New York harbor, a small sailboat bobbed peacefully. It was as large a craft as one man could handle easily and was expensive... quite expensive. On its deck was a silver bucket filled with ice and a magnum of champagne chilled to just the right temperature.
Eric, watching the fireworks from a safe distance and with a pair of very expensive binoculars sighed with a rapturous pleasure at the enormity of the explosion. "How wonderful! How sublime!" He felt the shockwave move through him the hand of a loving God and wondered when he'd ever get to do something so grandiose again.
"Eh, what's this?" He saw a light, a magical beacon above the harbor and quickly scanned the area. A slightly glowing figure was hovering near the damaged Lady of the Harbor. "That young woman has more lives than a barnful of cats!" He smiled thinly. "I guess I'll have another chance after all."
* * *
Oskar and his batman came out from behind cover, all weapons hidden once again. Not that anyone was paying attention to them given the events of the harbor. He glanced upward and saw every window had faces with some people leaning out far too far for any safety. He shook his head, "Let's head in."
"Yes sir."
As the rest of the neighborhood, the musicians were far more interested in explosions than whatever they were doing a minute beforehand. Oskar looked around the room for the conductor and didn't spot him immediately. He might have been one of the people in the upper windows straining to see anything at all.
After taking it all in, he cleared his throat lightly. Paused and then suddenly bellowed, "ATTENTION!" Immediately, all side conversations ceased as everyone's eyes turned toward him. "Now, where is the conductor?"
One brave soul finally answered, "He's trying to find out what's going on with the explosion and all."
"Foolishness." He took a deep breath. "You have all received the new music, yes?" There were nods all around.
"In less than twelve hours, Miss Tanya von Degurechaff, the new Germanian ambassador to the Unified States, will come through those doors. Either she will find everyone busily doing what they were paid to do and she will be pleased." His voice lowered and deepened, "Or she will NOT find you practicing and will be very displeased."
Oskar had a flair for drama and a definite presence. At any rate, no one was tempted to interrupt him. "It's said that the only people who were more scared of the Colonel than the enemy... were her own men. This not being wartime, I doubt that she would actually kill any of you. But making you wish you were dead is well within her powers."
He stepped up to the conductor's platform. "Now, everyone here seems to have a certain amount of common sense. And I'm sure the conductor will be returning any moment now. I'll leave it to your better judgment what your best action is." His Anglish was perfect and the slight Germanian accent enhanced his aura of authority. He pointed at one of the younger musicians. "Gather everyone upstairs."
In less than five minutes, all had returned to their positions. Oskar nodded. "You were practicing a new piece, I believe." He glanced at the music but, other than the title, it was a mystery to him. Ah, Degurechaff's March. I thought we heard a march from outside. He might be a musical novice, but he had heard more than his fair share of marches as a noble and an officer. "Let's start the March from the beginning."
The conductor's attention was immediately attracted by the sound of music. He said, "I'll talk later. Be safe now." and then hung up the phone. When he went back into the hall, he saw everyone back in position while a dignified man simply stood and watched them. He wasn't conducting, he just stood and stared at them while they strove to meet his expectations.
They succeeded.
The conductor stepped up as they finished the final chord and clash of cymbals. "Are you considering a change of careers?" he asked dryly.
"This? Hardly. I know how to lead and motivate but all I know about music is how to turn on a radio. All of this," he waved toward the room, "is a result of your hard work. I trust that the little incident in the harbor won't impede you in that?"
"We'll be ready." He lowered his voice, "What happened out there?"
Oskar shook his head. "I can't be sure. Something that far away, making that kind of sound, would have to be massive. A chemical factory for explosives or a ship filled with the same perhaps."
"I think there's a military depot out there. They wanted to build it closer in but people argued it was too dangerous." He grimaced as he thought about the devastation that would have occurred if it had been closer.
"Something I learned in the military... if you don't mind some advice."
"I'd welcome it."
"Focus on the enemy in front of you. Let someone else handle the ones you can't see."
"Your point is well made, sir." He stepped up to the podium. "Everyone, from the top! And I want some more passion in those drums, this isn't a lullaby!"
* * *
Astrid shook her head and put away her scrying gear. "I can't get a read on her... there's too much there." She sighed and rubbed her temples.
Nova commiserated with her sister. "It had to happen sooner or later. That we managed to get this far was a minor miracle as it was."
"Prophesying is best when done alone. It was impossible during the Great War. The brief lull is gone and the interference has risen again. There has to be at least a dozen mages trying to pierce the veil."
Nova looks surprised. "Only a dozen?"
"A dozen good ones. Who knows how many hedge wizards muddying the waters."
The younger woman joked. "Oh, admit it, you're just being lazy."
Astrid shrugged into her clothes and said, "You know the saying: Those that can, do. Those that can't, teach. Those that can't teach, criticize."
"Hey, that's not fair!"
Astrid laughed. "You're right, I'm doing teachers a severe disservice!"