Diana Pho - Steampunk World

Thilini kept the engines hot and pressed the submarine on to land. An hour after they distracted the sharks, she reduced speed and Dawes took over piloting duties so she could send a brief telegraph back to shore.

Martin Rothschild and an array of British naval officers were waiting for them at the harbor when they docked. The morning light was just breaking over the horizon.

“Did we receive your telegraph properly? You said thirty of the blasted sharks?” her uncle Martin asked.

She nodded, unbuttoning her rubber jacket to cool off in the morning air. Her cotton undershirt was soaked. “Perhaps even more. And they are but sardines compared to the leviathan who controls them.”

Martin looked to her father. “Is this true?”

Her father nodded gravely, watching medics pull Hart and Jacoby from the submarine; both were completely insensible. “Every word.”

“They will eat anything they can devour,” she said. “No ship is safe here. No one on Earth has a weapon strong enough to combat the leviathan. I am terrified to imagine the weapon that could, for it would surely endanger all other life on the planet as well.”

Martin twisted his gloves in his hands and stared out at the sea. “What shall we do? If we cannot take our tea and timber out on the water —“

“— you can take it by airship,” Thilini said. “My father and I thought on this. We have the means to create larger and faster airships suitable for all manner of cargo. Just give us a week or so to draw up new plans, and we may begin building in the factory here.”

“What shall we do when that monstrosity has devoured the whole of the ocean?” Dawes was still sheet-pale. “What will we do when it decides to come up on land?”

“Then we will do what we must. But in the meantime, I say give the monster the sea, and we can take the sky.”

Her father left to discuss the details with her uncle. Thilini stood on the docks, staring out at the gray expanse of water, remembering the cold touch of the leviathan’s mind in hers. She did not know whether it was a solitary conqueror, a lost traveler, or an exile marooned by its own kind on her planet.

But she did know that if it ever emerged from the depths, she would sense it. As she kissed the top of tiny Ganesha’s head, she vowed she would move Heaven and Earth to stop it.

“That’s it , my brother and sister! Stay in step, just like that!”

The massive war elephants lumbered across the plot of land, cheered on by their “brother,” Akhu, and his apprentice, Umat.

“Umat, now!” Akhu commanded as he yanked on a lever that protruded from the arm of the ebony couch in his litter. Umat mirrored Akhu’s movements and the litters began to smoothly slide sideways toward the ten-foot gap between elephants. Akhu jumped to his feet. Umat followed suit.

The litters came together with a click, forming a covered bridge.

“It works, my Neb!” Umat shouted, jumping up and down with glee.

Akhu hugged his apprentice and kissed the top of her cleanly shaven head. Umat’s cocoa skin tinged red. “We did it, Umat!”

Gahs raised his head and a sound like a blaring trumpet escaped his throat.

“Apologies, Gahs,” Akhu shouted, winking at Umat. “You performed brilliantly! You too, my sister!”

Fusii nodded her massive head and raised her trunk in approval.

“This will make a perfect base for Ra’s Rain , my Neb.”

“Yes, it will,” Akhu replied. “Let’s set up the tripod and…”

A deep, roaring noise – like the sound of a gale wind – stifled Akhu’s tongue.

He drew his scimitar from its sheath and slashed inward, toward his chest. The steel blade crashed into a massive, stone maul. An outward slash sent the warhammer careening back toward its thrower – a hulking figure standing in the grass below.

Akhu rubbed his chest with his fist. He shook his head as his knuckles slid across knotted bone, some spots still sore from when he did not respond quickly enough.

Akhu somersaulted from the litter-bridge toward the large man beneath him. The man reached up and caught the shaft of his maul as Akhu landed in a kneeling position before him. Akhu placed his sword at the man’s feet and bowed his head.

“Uncle,” he said.

“Fast reflexes, boy,” the man said, pulling Akhu to his feet.

“I was trained by the best, my Neb,” Akhu replied, smiling warmly.

“That you were, boy! That you were!”

Both men laughed as they embraced each other. Akhu’s uncle looked up toward the bridge. “Apologies if I frightened you, Umat.”

“Apology accepted, General Mu,” Umat replied. “How are you today, my Neb?”

“My heart is heavy, Umat,” General Mu sighed. “For today, I have to leave you lot to kill a dead man.”

Akhu’s brow furrowed. “You speak in riddles, Uncle Mu. Kill a dead man?”

“The Shekhem’s daughter has been kidnapped by the wizard Sa-Seti.”

“ The Sa-Seti? Shekhem of seven centuries ago?”

“Yes,” General Mu replied. “It appears that rumors of Shekhem Sa-Seti’s death have been…exaggerated.”

“Undead?” Akhu asked, shaking his head in disbelief.

General Mu answered with a nod.

“I will accompany you, then.”

“No,” General Mu said with a wave of his maul. “The Shekhem would have my head if the most brilliant mind in Menu-Kash died on my watch. Besides, how tough can one mummified sorcerer – with untold magic power – be?”

“Tread carefully, uncle Mu.”

“Always, son,” General Mu said, embracing Akhu. “Always.”

The General turned away from his nephew, tossed his maul over his thick shoulder and sauntered off.

Akhu looked up to the litter-bridge at Umat. “Let’s run Ra’s Rain through its paces. We may have use for it soon enough.”

Akhu lay in his bed, but sleep eluded him. Three days had passed and General Mu and his elite Jackal Squadron – warriors specialized in the hunting and killing of practitioners of dark magic – had not returned home.

A low din reminiscent of a plover pecking for insects echoed throughout the hall outside Akhu’s bed chamber. The sound grew louder; closer, until Akhu recognized it as the padding of bare feet on his home’s ivory floors. Umat rushed into the sleeping chamber. Her face was a mask of worry. “My Neb, please, forgive the intrusion, but…”

Akhu sprang out of bed. “What is it Umat? What’s wrong?”

“Your uncle has returned, my Neb, but he is…not well.”

“Not well?” Akhu echoed. “What, exactly, is wrong with him?”

“He is in the courtyard, my Neb. Please, follow me.”

Umat turned on her heels and darted out of the room. Akhu followed her out to the courtyard.

General Mu sat on his haunches. His tan linen vest and trousers were drenched with sweat and he shivered violently as the cool night air slithered across his chest and down his back. The General’s maul and his red, studded leather armor lay in a heap beside him. His helmet had rolled from his lap and lay, bottom up, a few feet in front of him.

Akhu ran to his uncle and knelt beside him. “Uncle Mu! What happened? What’s wrong?”

“They…they came at us from all directions,” General Mu replied. “ Thousands of them!”

“Thousands of what ?” Akhu asked.

“Beetles,” General Mu groaned. “Beetles the size of men! Beetles that were men! Goddamned beetles !”