Conflagration (55 page)

BOOK: Conflagration

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“But they saved us from Jeakqual-Ahrach. They changed sides, and came over to the good guys. Why the fuck would you want to kill them after that?”

Raphael looked to Slide for support. “But that was always the plan wasn’t it? They may have turned on Jeakqual-Ahrach, but they could just as easily turn on us. They weren’t human, they were maybe superior to us, and they had too much power. Hell, they got into our dreams.”

Argo joined in. “Not very different from us, really.”

Raphael was at a loss. “Tell them, Yancey. The Twins could never have been allowed to survive.”

Slide shook his head. “I’m keeping out of this.”

For once, Cordelia could see both sides of the argument. The White Twins would have been incredibly dangerous even as friends, but to make that a reason to exterminate them was nothing short of Zhaithan thinking. The best thing she could do was to end the debate. The Twins were dead. It was academic. “I think they should be buried right away. Get the poor little bastards off the ground and into it. Right here, in an unmarked grave.”

Slide adjusted his hat. “But some may not want to touch them.”

Jesamine frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

But Slide didn’t answer. He was staring off into the distance. Over by the still-burning barracks, Sera Falconetti’s black Benz, with a fresh dent in the door, was steering its way through the wreckage. As soon as the car came to a halt, a white-faced Sera Falconetti jumped from it. “What happened? You, Jesamine, the Twins, you all vanished from the car, right into thin air. I thought I’d lost my mind, and even Madden turned pale.”

Cordelia shook her head. “I think Jeakqual-Ahrach may be the only one to explain that, and she is now in no position to do so.”

JESAMINE

Damon Falconetti thrust a foaming bottle of Frankish champagne into Jesamine’s hands. “Drink deep, girl. It’s looted from the Teuton officers’ quarters, and you shot two of those bastards.”

Jesamine wasn’t quite sure how to react to that, but she knew it was well intended so, as instructed, she drank deep and her nose filled with bubbles. Bottles were being passed, and for the moment, the White Twins had been forgotten, as the victory over a hated conqueror was being celebrated. Damon Falconetti was drunk and waxing grandiose for the future. “This, my beautiful Major, is only the start. Today, the people of Paris, and all of you who fought this fight, have started what could turn into a full-scale Frankish uprising. Who knows?” He made a sweeping gesture to the east, south, and west. “There’s the whole stinking Mosul Empire out there, rotting from within and ready to fall. Hispania and the cities of Italia and the Hellenes, and the Transylvanians, then all the way down into Africa; they could all follow. Who knows where it all might end? You ever dream of returning to Africa, beautiful Major Jesamine?”

Jesamine did not think too much about returning to Africa, but earlier there had been much discussion of returning somewhere. Everyone was well aware that they could not linger. As soon as word spread, the Mosul would be coming in force to see what had happened to their gun and their pyramid. The Parisians were going back to Paris, and Jesamine had assumed that the Rangers and The Four would go with them, to live the outlaw life until they could somehow be extracted, but then Gideon Windermere had informed them that the Black Airship was on its way to bring out the Rangers, The Four, Yancey Slide, and himself. The dirigible was taking the more dangerous and direct daylight course from Shoreham by Sea, and would not be long in coming. On hearing this, Jesamine had become adamant. She was not going back to London. As far as she was concerned, London was the city that had killed Jack Kennedy, and she would join the Falconettis, if they would have her, before she returned there. The rest of The Four could do what the hell they liked, but she was staying put. She had expected her resolve would be met with an argument, if only from Cordelia, but Cordelia had said nothing. It seemed that her infatuation with both the city and Gideon Windermere had cooled to nothing after her kidnap, and all the duplicity that had surrounded it. In fact, the only response her outburst had received was extreme amusement on the part of Windermere.

“Oh my dear, London is the last place you are going. The fallout from this expedition will be monumental and it would be better if you were someplace else. Also the Crom fundamentalists hold you suspect in the assassination, and claim you killed Jack to force the NU into war with the Mosul. The conspiracy theories are flying and you’d best be away from them, too.”

Slide sighed. “Whenever poor Jack is killed, it’s never resolved.”

Jesamine pretended that she hadn’t heard him. “But we can’t fly across the Northern Ocean in an airship, can we, even the Black Airship?”

Slide now smiled. “We have the good fortune that, right now, the ironclad
HMS Constellation
is steaming through the Straits of Dover to make a rendezvous with the Black Airship in the English Channel. The
Constellation
is even dropping a few shells on Boulogne and the Mosul shore defenses, just to add to the confusion. We will be set down on the ship, and it will take us home.”

Jesamine did not quite think of Albany as home, but it was the best news she had received in a long time. She must have a leave-of-absence coming from The Four, and her honorary position in the Rangers, and that meant she could journey into the interior, back to the protection of the Ohio, to hide in the warmth of their lodges, and lick her wounds.

After Slide’s announcement, nothing remained to do except to say boisterous good-byes and emotional farewells to the various members of the Falconetti Family as they made ready to pull out. Then they had heard the sound of engines, and everyone turned. The Black Airship was coming in low, and under power. The huge phallic cigar flew majestically right above the broken ruins of the pyramid, and it was a breath-stopping vision that Jesamine knew she would never forget. Yancey Slide noticed her awe and smiled. “You’ve learned to enjoy flying, haven’t you, Major Jesamine?”

Jesamine nodded. “When you get up high it somehow seems very different.”

Slide winked. “And the higher you get, the more different it looks. Believe me.”

OTHER NOVELS BY MICK FARREN FROM TOR BOOKS

The Time of Feasting

Darklost

More than Mortal

Underland

Kindling

This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this novel are either fictitious or are used fictitiously.

CONFLAGRATION

A Tor Book

Published by Tom Doherty Associates, LLC