“You do not love your Francisco anymore?” he asked, adopting a suddenly coy look as he batted his eyelashes at me. “My heart, he is yours, all yours. And the rest of me, as well,” he added, standing up.
I averted my gaze from his bulging pelvis, which unfortunately was right at eye level. “In addition, I believe I have addressed you on the subject of those wholly inappropriate breeches that you insist on wearing rather than the standard Aerocorps trousers.”
He waggled his hips at me. “You do not like my breeches, oh, glorious one of the flaming sunset hair?”
Jack made another bark of choked laughter that I did my best to ignore as I gave the steward a very stern look, indeed. “Given that your breeches leave little, if anything, to the imagination, I am quite confident that everyone in the crew would be happier if you were to don the regulation trousers.”
Francisco pursed his lips in what I’m sure he thought was a seductive pout. “It is impossible that you could resist my breeches. You are having your time of the monthlies, no? That is why you do not crave poor Francisco’s body, which is so hot and hard for you.”
“Really, Mr. Francisco—,” I started to say when Jack interrupted.
“It doesn’t seem to me that the lady is overly interested in what you’re offering,” he said, his smile fading.
“Maybe you should just do as she asks and put on a pair of pants that don’t let everyone see the outline of every vein and ridge.”
Francisco drew himself up to his full height, which was no more than mine. He was small but sturdily built, and, like many Spaniards, held his pride dearly. He puffed out his chest as his eyes narrowed into obsidian slits focused on Jack. “You dare speak to me, you son of a she-dog?”
“Yeah, I do,” Jack answered, getting to his feet. “It’s clear that Octavia isn’t interested in you, so why don’t you just take yourself off and leave us in peace.”
I sighed, drooping for a moment at the explosion that I knew, even after only a short acquaintance with Francisco, would be forthcoming. “Sometimes men are so pigheaded,” I said to the teapot.
“You address the flaming capitán by her so-precious name?” Francisco snarled, storming around the table to where Jack stood. His hands danced wildly in the air as he spoke. “She is not to you belonging that you can speak so! The capitán, she is mine! I claimed her the moment I saw her shining, glorious hair of the hottest flames!”
“That’s for her to say, not you,” Jack said, his hands fisting as Francisco snarled a word that I suspected was not suitable for polite company. “Look, I have a rule about not fighting people, but if you continue to bother the captain, I will rethink it.”
“You do not frighten me, you pirate of the most scabulous ancestors!” Francisco yelled.
“Scabulous?” Jack asked.
“I think he means scurrilous,” I suggested.
“Sí, scurrilous. You are scurrilous of the most great level!” Francisco said, still waving his hands around. “I will enjoy cutting out your liver and frying it with tomatoes and capers and un poco basil!”
“I think that’s about enough.” I gave in and stood up, as well, giving my errant steward a look that by rights should have had him cowering. “You will cease threatening Mr. Fletcher. You will also cease making absurd statements regarding me. I am not yours. I will never be yours, as I told you the very first night when you burst into my cabin and threw your naked person upon my hair. I am not interested in you in any capacity but that of a steward. Now, please, stop making these embarrassing scenes and return to your duties.”
“Mi capitán—”
“Now!” I said, pointing to the door to the galley.
Francisco looked like he wanted to spit on Jack, but thought better of insulting the larger man, contenting himself with a stream of Spanish that left a profane tint to the air as he stomped dramatically back into the galley.
“You really do have some characters on this ship, don’t you?” Jack asked as I slumped down into my chair.
I was unable to deny that. “They are good people nonetheless. And I would have been able to control Mr. Francisco if you hadn’t enraged him.”
“You didn’t look like you appreciated him hitting on you.”
“I would never tolerate any man striking me, let alone a crew member,” I said primly.
“That’s not what . . . never mind. It’s not important. What were we talking about before the Spanish drama queen entered?”
“I don’t quite remember.” I rubbed my forehead. “Oh, yes, the situation with you, and—”
“—how we got on board an airship in what is evidently a steampunk world, that’s right. I’d like a definitive answer to that, too, but I think the best we’re going to get at this point is conjecture.”
“What is this steampunk you keep mentioning?” I asked, distracted by the word.
An indescribable look came over his face as he retook his seat. “It’s . . . well, it’s all this,” he said, waving his hands. “At least I think it is. Let me ask you—what is the source of power of this airship?”
“The boilers,” I answered promptly. “They turn the propellers, and heat the air that fills the envelopes.”
“Steam engines, in other words,” he said, nodding. “I noticed that there are gas jets on the wall. Is there any sort of electricity on board?”
“Of course not. Electricity is highly dangerous. I wouldn’t have it in my home, let alone on an airship.”
“Right,” he said, as if he expected that answer. “And if I said ‘nuclear power’ to you . . . ?”
“I would suggest you define that term.”
“Got it. So in other words, it’s present-day, at least so far as the year is. You’re dressed in a late Victorian outfit, steam engines run your airship, and you have a gun that shoots heated aether, which is an archaic term that has no real meaning.”
“I assure you that should you be struck by it, you would change your point of view,” I said with complaisance.
“Ah, but that’s because in your world it has a definition that doesn’t apply to the real world.”
“The world is only as real as you make it.”
“True, true, but in this case, it’s hard to define just what real is. My real is different from your real.”
“Is that so?” I said politely.
“Yes. Somehow, Hal and I were popped from our real world, into yours. I’m not going to speculate how that could happen, except to say that when you deal with things on a quantum level, as I was with my research project, things aren’t necessarily what you expect them to be.”
“So you hold to the statement that you were not placed on board the ship by persons unknown, but that you were . . .” I struggled to find a word for the action he was suggesting.
“Zapped. We were zapped here, yes. That’s what I think happened. How the hell we’re going to get back is another question, but right now, I think I’ll just settle for coping with the fact that we’re not where we should be. You have to admit that this offers a tremendous opportunity to learn about you.”
“Me?” I asked, my eyebrows once again rising. I told them to stop being so dramatic.
His gaze dropped to my chest for a moment. “Your world. Although I don’t mind saying I’d enjoy knowing you better, too.”
There was a slight emphasis on the word “knowing” that didn’t escape me.
The question was, why did my pulse race at the thought of it?
Log of the HIMA Tesla
Monday, February 15
Forenoon Watch: Six Bells and a Half
“You look skeptical,” Jack said, watching my face. “You don’t think this is the perfect opportunity for exploring a truly remarkable opportunity?”
I pulled my mind back from thoughts that were highly improper, most of which concerned him lying naked on my bed, and said slowly, “I am more concerned with what I’m going to do with you now that you’re here, regardless of how you came to be on my shi
p. The Aerocorps takes a narrow view of unauthorized personnel on board their ships, and frankly, I have no idea what explanation I can give the emperor’s officials when we land in Rome.”
“Emperor?” he asked. “There’s an emperor?”
“Emperor William VI, yes. The empire consists of the United Kingdom, and the duchy of Prussia.”
He was silent for the count of five, then nodded. “OK. You guys have an empire, and Prussia is part of that. Gotcha. So the emperor will have guys waiting for you in Rome? Is Italy part of the empire?”
“No. The king of Italy is a cousin to the Duchess of Prussia, who is marrying the emperor in about a week. Relations between Italy and England have been strained for several decades due to the Moghuls reclaiming Constantinople.”
“Moghuls,” he said, blinking.
“Italy liberated Constantinople from the Moghuls three decades past,” I explained. “But seven years ago, the imperator—he’s really an emperor, but for some reason they call him imperator—Imperator Aurangzeb III retook the city. The king of Italy was distraught at this, and asked for aid from Emperor William, but he was busy fighting the war with the Americas, and could not help.”
“You guys had a war with us?” he asked, his eyes narrowing. “Another one?”
“There have been several,” I said, shrugging. “An empire is neither won nor held without casualty. The war with the Americas ended four years ago. However, I should warn you that there are still hard feelings about citizens of the countries who fought against the empire. If it was possible to modify your accent, I would urge you to do so, lest you encounter trouble because of it.”
He straightened up, an indignant look on his face. “I’m not ashamed that I’m American, and I’ll be damned if I pretend otherwise.”
“I’m not suggesting you pretend anything; I’m simply warning you that your accent may cause trouble. If you do not wish to modify it, fine. But don’t be surprised if you find a hostile reaction to it.”
“I’m used to getting flak for a lot of things,” he said with a wry smile that made me want to kiss him.
I ground my teeth against the unruly thought, and poured myself more tea.
“So, back to your problem. You say that unauthorized people on your ship are going to get you into trouble. Is there anything that says you can’t tell this emperor’s dudes that Hallie and I are part of your crew?”
“Unfortunately, yes. The Aerocorps offices have a list of personnel on all ships, and they check all arrivals closely. It’s not just the emperor’s officials who pose a danger—Akbar has been making raids upon Italy in retaliation for the battle over Constantinople, and he has been hitting Rome particularly hard.”
“Akbar is . . . ?”
“Aurangzeb’s son and heir, a ruthless warlord who lets nothing stand in his path,” I said, clearing my throat when I noted how singsong that came out, almost as if I was reciting it. “Of late, he has attacked several Aerocorps ships in the name of the Moghuls.”
“Well, of course he has,” Jack said, nodding, his smile fading. “What else would a ruthless heir do? And you think these Moghuls may attack you?”
“Attack by one’s enemies is always a possibility,” I said, tracing the pattern of flowers on the china teapot.
“That’s a very odd answer,” he said, his eyes thoughtful on me.
“Is it? I hadn’t intended it to be. There is one other threat,” I said quickly. “The revolutionaries who oppose William have, in the past, focused their attentions on matters in England and Prussia. For the last two years, however, they have spread their attacks to include imperial forces in other countries; most notably they have made a number of strikes against ships bearing imperial cargoes. Their raids have targeted the Rome aerodrome three times in the last few months, which is why there are bound to be imperial officials present when we land.”
He looked at me askance. “You have two emperors, a bloodthirsty prince, and revolutionaries? Have you ever thought of writing all of this down? It would make a hell of a story.”
“I am trying to have a serious discussion, Mr. Fletcher. Under the circumstances, flippancy is neither desired or appreciated.”
“Go with the flow, Jack, go with the flow,” he murmured before taking a deep breath and saying, “All right. So there are three threats to you landing safely at Rome.”
“Only two—the Moghuls and the Black Hand.”
“The latter being the revolutionaries?”
“Yes.” I tightened my lips. I didn’t want to go into details about the Hand, but I had a suspicion that a man of his curiosity wouldn’t leave it alone. “They are opposed to the empire.”
“That’s it? They’re just opposed to it?” he asked after a few seconds of silence passed.
I watched my fingers trace out the rim of my cup. “They are opposed to Prussia being under the power of William. There is a lengthy history of Prussia attempting to gain its freedom from the empire, but with no success.”
“And yet the duchess is going to marry this emperor of yours?” Jack asked, his gaze shrewd.
“He’s not my emperor,” I said stiffly.
He watched me for a moment, leaving me with the uncomfortable sensation that he could see my thoughts. “That was a little too much, you know.”
I sighed, allowing my shoulders to slump for a few seconds. “I know. It was stupid of me.”
“So you know the emperor?”
My fingers ran around the rim of the cup again as I wondered how much to tell him. I decided to be prudent rather than garrulous. “When I was very young, I was separated from my parents. William found me wandering around the garden of one of the imperial palaces. He took me to his father, the old emperor, who made me a ward of a friend of his, a man by the name of Robert Anstruther. Because we were of an age, and because William had few playfellows, I was allowed to visit him periodically. We had some wonderful times together, William a brave knight to my fairy princess as we fought dragons and trolls and all sorts of wicked beings.” I smiled at the sweet memories. “We more or less grew up together, although once the old emperor died, my visits to play with William were at an end.”
The other visits, the ones made later in my life, were not so sweet, although filled with a wonder of their own.
“Sounds like you had a good childhood,” he said, still watching me closely.
“My childhood is not of importance at this moment,” I said, firmly closing the door to any further introspection. “I have quite enough on my plate with your arrival.”
“It seems that way, doesn’t it?” he said thoughtfully. “Let me make sure I have all this straight—there’s an emperor of England who also rules Prussia, who was at war with the US until a few years ago.”
“The Americas—the United States, Canada, and Mexico.”
“All three together?” he asked, looking surprised.
“Yes.”
“What exactly comprises your empire? Britain and Prussia? No Australia or Canada?”
“No, just the British Isles and Prussia.”
“Got it. And this friend of yours, William the emperor, is going to marry a duchess.”
“Constanza, yes.”
“Right, and she’s the cousin of the Italian king?”
“That is correct. King Iago.”
“How Shakespearean of him,” Jack said absently, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Iago is at war with some guy whose name I can’t pronounce, dad of a bloodthirsty heir.”
“Aurangzeb III. His son is Akbar, but it’s not Iago who is at war with Aurangzeb—he doesn’t have the force to battle the Moghuls on his own. It is our empire that is at war with the Moghuls. We have fought for almost a century, checking their attempt to take over Europe. Countries such as Italy lend aid as they can, but our people bear most of the responsibility. The empire’s men and women have paid the highest price for freedom from the Moghuls.”
“You guys were fighting two wars at once?” Jack looked astonishe
d.
“Yes. It was a very grim time,” I said, refusing to remember the long, dark years. “You must understand that William wants nothing more than a cessation of the war with the Moghuls, but Aurangzeb is reputed to be working on a siege machine that is impervious to any known weapons, one that will crush our forces and allow him to reign free over all of Europe. With that threat hanging over our respective heads, you will understand why William feels obliged to continue his attempt to end the Moghul empire.”
He made a wry face. “I think there’s probably more to it than that.”
“What do you mean?” I asked quickly.
“Just that there are usually two sides to every story, and I like to hear them both before making an opinion.” His eyes, so oddly mismatched, and yet able to stir me right down to my soul, watched me with mild curiosity.
I was silent for a few minutes, not wanting to dwell on the direction my thoughts were headed. “I will have to smuggle you off the Tesla somehow. I see no other answer to this situation.”
“What will happen if your buddy’s men find out?”
I examined my fingertips. “The emperor has been beleaguered of late by spies sent by the Black Hand. He has decreed that anyone found guilty of a charge of espionage be executed with all due haste.”
“Good God,” Jack exclaimed. “You don’t mean to say he’d kill you if they found out Hallie and I were on board?”
“I have no doubt I would be charged as a spy,” I answered, rubbing a slight spot on one of my fingernails.
“But the emperor is a friend of yours. A . . . er . . . former boyfriend?”
He was fishing for that bit of information, but I let it go. Enough people knew that particular truth to keep me from spending an undue amount of energy to hide it.
“The laws are quite clear. My relationship with William was long in the past, and would have no bearing on any action taken in the present. If I was found guilty of being a spy, I would be executed.”
“I’m sorry,” he said after a minute of silence.
I glanced up to find his expression earnest.
“I’m sorry that I’ve put you in such a bind. You seem like a nice woman, Octavia. I don’t regret at all having the opportunity to meet you, but I regret that our being here has messed things up for you.”