The Calorium Wars Read online

  “Hey!” Liam protested, “Darn it, Gran, hang on a minute!”

  “Save yer breath to cool yer porridge,” she snapped over her shoulder, and Liam made a face and surrendered as Gran led the way into the trees.

  Now that the sunny skies were darkening, the forest canopy filtered the remaining light into a faintly green, glowing murk that was eerie enough to reduce even Ambrose to wary silence. But when they reached the circle of white, stately birches and Gran picked up a carpetbag she had stowed behind a bush, Liam finally had to speak.

  “For the luvva mercy,” he hissed in an uneasy whisper, “what’s all this hoopla about?”

  “You hush yer worritin’, Liam McCool,” she said curtly, “and sit over there.” She reached behind the bush again and pulled out a highly-polished ebony walking stick, smiling as she saw Liam’s face light up at the sight of it. “There,” she said, “I kept your stick for you, that ought to cheer you up.

  Gram turned to the others and pointed to a cleared spot just outside the circle of trees: “Right, then, everybody, all together over there now!”

  Herding them along with peremptory shooing motions until everyone was seated in a tight group, Gran then took a cardboard box of salt out of her bag and slowly emptied it in a circle completely surrounding the five of them.

  “There,” she said, dusting her hands off, “that’s to protect us, so don’t be steppin’ outside the salt.”

  “Jeez, Gran,” Mike said, “protect us from what? You’re giving me the willies!” The others agreed vehemently, but Gran just grinned and pointed to the circle of birches:

  “In case ye’ve forgotten what I taught ye along with yer English, Misha me lad, today is Samhain. And that over there’s a fairy circle. It’s true we’d do better waitin’ till midnight, but I know ye’ve got to be getting’ along, so just bear with me and we’ll do our best.”

  “Fairy circle?” Liam said with a touch of uneasiness, “Do we really need to be doing this, Gran?”

  “Be quiet for pity’s sake, McCool,” Chen said in clipped tones, “and let your grandmother get on with it—I’ve never seen an Irish witch at work, and I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  “Thank you, Ambrose,” Gran said. “And the answer is yes, Liam darlin’. The Birch Fairy is the one our people call The Lady of the Woods, and when ye need a clear head for some grand new venture and ye need to leave behind all yer bad baggage she’s the one we call on. I mean to stay here on the Island with Becky till she’s ready to join you and I don’t know when I’ll be seein’ ye next, so this is something we do need to do now.”

  As she spoke, the first roll of thunder came to them across the ocean, accompanied by a distant shimmer of lightning. Gran picked up her bag and hurried into the birch circle, where she took a bowl out of the bag and set it in the middle of the clearing. Then she took a bottle of milk and a jar of honey out of the bag and mixed their contents in the bowl, which she held up in the air as she intoned:

  “House of McCool …”

  Before she could finish Liam gave a sudden roar of pain and fell forward onto his knees, clasping his arms around himself as if he’d been stabbed to the heart. Becky jumped up with an anxious cry and knelt down next to Liam, but for once he barely registered her presence, his brain and his body overwhelmed by the most excruciating agony he’d ever felt—as if the blood had suddenly been sucked out of him and replaced with molten metal while his head rang with a terrifying clamor of voices, some strident and threatening and some low and hoarse and insinuating and speaking languages he couldn’t recognize.

  Finally, after what seemed like hours, the pain flooded back out of him like the water from a breaking wave and he took a deep, shuddering breath.

  “Liam! Liam, are you all right?”

  “Sweet Mother of God!” he muttered, his eyes shut tightly. “It was like I swallowed a bucketful of blazing coals on top of a lake of whiskey! What was that?”

  Granny joined them, kneeling next to Liam and laying her hand on his forehead. “Ye’re burnin’ up,” she said worriedly. “I should never have started before midnight …”

  Liam’s eyes opened and he gave her a forced smile, determined not to give in to some superstitious fairy nonsense:

  “Come on, Gran,” he said hoarsely, “let’s get on with it.” He straightened the quirks out of his smile with an effort and nodded towards the circle, not quite managing a hearty chuckle: “Really. God knows I’ve enough bad baggage to be getting rid of.”

  Gran studied him for a moment, her face full of concern (plus a touch of impatience with his trying to laugh it all off), then she got back to her feet and returned slowly to the circle, where she picked up the bowl of milk and honey and resumed her invocation, her voice a little strained:

  “House of McCool has come to bring a gift. If the gift is accepted, please show yourself …”

  Before she could finish, everything went totally black for a terrifyingly long moment, broken at last by a blinding flash of lightning and a thunderclap so loud it shook the trees and left everyone momentarily deaf.

  Gran had dropped the offering bowl to cover her eyes with her hands, and as she lowered them and opened her eyes again she leapt back, crossing herself in terror:

  “Aw, Jasus,” she cried, “Lord have mercy!”

  In front of her in the center of the circle was an enormous great horned owl, easily as tall as she was, staggering a bit as it tried to walk. Suddenly it spread its wings to their full, gigantic length and screeched so hideously that everyone had to clap their hands over their ears. Then the owl folded its wings again and started ruffling its feathers, so energetically that after a moment the bird seemed to blur before resolving itself with stomach-flipping abruptness into a stocky young man with a deeply bronzed complexion, broad cheekbones and an aquiline nose, his long black hair hanging behind him in a single braid. Bizarrely out of place in a faultless morning coat, waistcoat and striped trousers, he looked around dazedly at the trees and the equally dazed little group of people staring back at him, shaking his head as if he were trying to make it all go away.

  “Akh!” he cried desperately in Russian, “Bozhe ty moi, kuda zh ya propal?”

  Suddenly Liam leapt to his feet and ran towards the newcomer, grinning like a madman:

  “Crazy Horse!” he yelled. “Zhenya! It’s me!”

  The other man was shaking his head, terrified. “Why I am dead?” he muttered in Russian-accented English. “You!” he shouted at Liam, crossing his fingers over his head to ward off evil. “Spirit! Is Hell here, or is some other?”

  Liam broke out laughing: “Slushai, durak!” Then, pointing at himself, “eto ya, Lev Frentsisovich !”

  The man’s jaw dropped and Liam ran forward and embraced him, still laughing as he kissed him on both cheeks, Russian-style.

  “Lev Frentsisovich?”

  “That’s what I’m trying to tell you! We’re on Shelter Island.” Then, as the newcomer shook his head in bafflement, “That’s a hundred miles from New York City, and we were just getting ready to go back there by boat. What I want to know is where you came from?”

  Before he could answer Becky ran towards them and threw her arms around the newcomer with a happy laugh:

  “Crazy Horse! It is you! It must have been Gran’s fairy circle!”

  “Akh!” he said, looking around with sudden comprehension. “Vot ono chto! Thank you, Miss Becky! Fairy circle!” He turned to Gran as she approached and bowed deeply: “And you, Madam, are babushka of Lev Frentsisovich, all is comprehend!” He took her hands and kissed them both before straightening suddenly and giving her a shrewd look. “Only he does not tell you are powerful colleague. Please accept heartfelt compliments from humble Lakota shaman.”

  Liam broke in, eaten up with curiosity: “So, Zhenya, where were you, what’s with the fancy duds—are you getting married?”

  Crazy Horse’s face darkened: “Not such much fun. A moment ago I am in Santa Monica, wait to see Gover
nor for beg mercy to our friend Georgie. Then your babushka’s fairy circle must have opened up ley line …” he waved his hand frustratedly, looking for English words “… like magic highway from this place to Bear Flag Republic.”

  “Bear Flag Republic?” Chen’s attention was absolutely riveted.

  “In guberniia of California,” said Crazy Horse with a somber nod. “Our friend Georgie is in irons on orders from this svoloch’ Lukas, now sits in Catalina Island dungeon.”

  “Georgie?” Becky cried. “You mean Laughing Wolf? General Custer?”

  “The same,” Crazy Horse said in a heavy voice, “our dear friend and comrade-in-arms. And in only three days he will be taken out and shot!”

  Chapter Ten

  Now it was Liam’s turn to shake his head in denial: “No, Zhenya. Not Custer.” He and the onetime cavalry general had fought side by side against the Little Russian Secret Police and soldiers of the Little Russian Aerial Navy, and Liam could see the famous face, with its laughing blue eyes, its frame of curly blonde hair and its prominent nose and slightly receding chin as vividly as he could see Crazy Horse standing in front of him.

  Crazy Horse shook his head gloomily. “Stanton has make deal with Mexico to give American soldiers laissez-passer from Sonora into Apacheria in Arizona guberniia, for seize calorium mines. Georgie was there leading army of the People—Blackfoot, Cheyenne, Comanche, Lakota Sioux and many others—against both enemies, Little Russians and Americans.” He spat on the ground with an angry growl: “Apache traitor gives Georgie up to Little Russians and now he sits in hole in prison deep under the ground on Island of Catalina.”

  Becky took hold of Liam’s arm and gave him a little shake: “You’ve got to go, Liam. He risked his life to help us steal Stanton’s aerial battleship and escape from Little Russia, you can’t do less.”

  Liam frowned and raised his arms in frustration, knowing she was right but thinking of the work that lay ahead of him organizing the gangs to fight against Stanton, but before he could speak Gran blew up at him, wagging her finger right under his nose and giving her voice an edge he remembered from his school days:

  “Liam McCool, don’t you dare drag your feet just because your precious plans’ll be upset! Why do you think this man was snatched here across three thousand miles? He was brought to you by the Lady of the Woods, eejit! That means helpin’ him and General Custer is exactly what your next great venture is supposed to be. Deny that mission and you’ll be in a peck of trouble!”

  Liam grinned and shook his head. He didn’t know about the Birch Fairy, but he knew for sure he’d be in two pecks of trouble with Gran and Becky if he said no.

  “Fine,” he said, “but it’s going to be a neat trick getting to California from here in three days.”

  Mike waved his hand dismissively: “Nichevo, bratets! While you were saying your prayers in the cooler, Stanton’s people built an Aerial Navy depot in the North Meadow, up by 97th Street. They have a whole fleet of those new attack fliers up there, one of those things will get you to Los Angeles so fast it’ll make your head spin.”

  Liam laughed and turned to Crazy Horse: “Nu, nu, Zhenya, poekhali! Let’s get going!”

  The whole group was hurrying across the lawn towards the pier, where Captain Billy was standing with his arms folded on his chest, fuming. Liam had hung back a little to get a few last words in with Becky:

  “Promise me you won’t hang around here any longer than you have to. I meant every word of what I said to President Lincoln—it’s not going to be long before there’ll be squads of Johnnies out here doing pack drill on the lawn.”

  “I promise,” she said, giving Liam’s arm a squeeze. “You know Mike’s going to start organizing the gangs the minute he gets back, and I’ll use your headquarters as my clearing house while I get my old information networks running again. I really don’t like to see you going to help Custer without me, he was my comrade too. But it’s as if Stanton’s making time move faster—he wants to bring everything under his hand before anyone has a chance to fight back and we’ve all got to work twice as fast to stop him.”

  “Right as always,” said Liam with a smile. They were almost to the Straight Up now, and Liam folded Becky into a final embrace which continued until they heard Captain Billy’s aggravated bellow in the background:

  “Avast there, McCool, ye blasted lollygagger!”

  Grudgingly, Liam let go of Becky and turned to go, but before he could quite make it she had pulled him back and given him one more passionate kiss. Then she whispered in his ear:

  “You be very careful, Liam McCool, and come back to me in one piece because I do believe I’ve fallen in love with you.”

  With that she gave him a shove and pulled back to join Gran as Liam stood there for a moment with his mouth hanging open.

  “Go on wit’ yez,” called Gran, laughing, “and close yer mouth before a seagull flies in there and builds a nest!”

  For another moment Liam stood there in a state of total distraction until Captain Billy sang out again:

  “MCCOOL! NOW!!!”

  Finally getting a grip on himself, Liam turned and ran for the boat, barely making it aboard before Captain Billy swung the Straight Up around in a wide arc and tore off across the Bay for the open sea, full steam ahead.

  Gran and Becky stood and watched them go for several minutes, each lost in her own thoughts until the boat rounded the headland that led to the Atlantic and disappeared. Then Gran blew out an enormous sigh and put her arm through Becky’s:

  “Come on now, lass, we’d best be getting back.”

  As they walked, Becky had to bite her lip to keep back the tears, and Gran—who was keeping a weather eye on Becky—talked to keep her distracted:

  “D’ye think ye can find a new editor soon, then, love?”

  Becky nodded and swallowed hard: “Mr. Clemens promised that he’d take it over himself until I could find someone willing to do the job, so all I really have to do is get together with him and plan out the next two or three issues and then I’ll be free to go.”

  “Thank goodness!” Gran exclaimed. Then, a little guiltily, “I surely don’t want to sound ungrateful, darlin’, but I’m that tired of all the jabberin’ I can’t wait to go. Mind you, I’ve been underground before, with the Fenian Brotherhood. But that was back in the ould country and there was plenty of action to season the talk.”

  They had reached the white wicker armchairs in front of the main house and Becky sat down abruptly and heaved an enormous sigh: “I really …”

  “There now, Becky love,” Gran said, bending over and kissing her on the forehead, “you just rest easy a bit while I go in and see what’s happening with dinner.”

  Becky nodded and smiled, grateful for a moment to sit alone and gather her thoughts. But almost as soon as Gran had gone, Becky heard a call from behind her:

  “Ah, Miss Fox, thank heavens I’ve found you!”

  Turning in her seat, Becky saw Capt. Ubaldo hurrying towards her, his cheeks flushed and his expression anxious:

  “I was just doing an instrument check in the battleship Delta when a message came in for you on the Tesla Vox …”

  Becky jumped to her feet, her hand instinctively flying to her throat. There weren’t even a handful of people who had the Tesla Vox number that belonged to the unique airship that she and Liam had stolen from the Little Russian Aerial Navy and landed on Shelter Island. It could only mean that something awful had … Suddenly she realized that Capt. Ubaldo’s lips were moving and she forced herself to focus on what he was saying:

  “… terribly sorry to break it to you this way, but I was told that the Secret Service has arrested your father and that he …”

  But Becky was already running towards the field behind the main house, where the captured Delta was hidden in plain sight under an enormous blanket of netting and leafy twigs …

  Becky hadn’t been near the enormous black hulk of the Delta since she and Liam had landed it and tur
ned its resources over to the Party, and she had forgotten the sheer size of the thing. As she approached the little flight of metal stairs that ascended into the belly of the ship, she felt its bulk blotting out the late afternoon sun and halted for a moment as she felt a twinge of uneasiness. Then, scolding herself for being a baby, she shrugged off her disquiet and marched boldly up the stairs.

  The inside of the giant airship was breathtaking, like the illustrations of Jules Verne’s Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea brought improbably to life. The interior of Captain Nemo’s submarine Nautilus was no more luxuriously paneled in oak nor ornately trimmed with curlicues of brass or impressively packed with mysterious machinery than this experimental behemoth of Stanton’s, softly lit by rows of tiny electric bulbs concealed within frosted glass globes.

  On the far side of the main cabin, spread in a semicircle beneath a sort of bay window with three thick panes of glass, was a curved panel studded with dials and switches beneath which a hanging jungle growth of wires and cables could be seen—the control panel in front of which Becky and Liam had spent some suspenseful hours trying to avoid crashing or blowing themselves up before they figured out how to run the ship.

  What she was looking for wasn’t in the main control panel, however, but in what looked like a double-length roll top desk on the wall opposite, and Becky headed for it with unswerving purpose, pulling the cover up and back to reveal a bank of exotic gadgets: a Bausch & Lomb ShurShot Bombing Sight, a TransLux Night Viewer, and finally—the TeslaVox Transmitter and Receiver, a prototype unit that adapted Tesla’s new electric-power transmission techniques to the task of making the voicewire work without a wire

  Using it was no great challenge: below the brass-and-rosewood handset that did the receiving and transmitting was a simple red knob with a brass arrow at its edge and the unambiguous legend: “ON—OFF.” Becky flicked it on, and instantly a green light glowed and Becky picked up the handset to begin the call to her home.

  But just as she heard the first thin jabber of voices from the little brass bowl of the receiver, she heard Ubaldo’s steps approaching from behind her and turned to look as he said: