The Ancient Magus' Bride: The Silver Yarn, page 9
“You think I have no plan? Give me a little more credit. This is the one ship in the Royal Navy officially classified as Special Alchemy Craft.”
She shook her head and continued. “There are plenty of skeptics on my side as well. The rest of the fleet calls this ship The Flying Dutchman.”
My feathers ruffled at the name. The Dutchman was an infamous ghost ship that had sunk near the Cape of Good Hope, and rumor said it was doomed to wander the seas until Judgment Day. A Wagnerian opera had made it famous. “Flying Dutchman” certainly wasn’t a good nickname.
“Unfortunate. Why ‘Dutchman’ when you’re all English?”
“Have you heard of William, Prince of Orange? Perhaps you’ve heard of William III, who brought about the Glorious Revolution. He began as Stadtholder of Holland and was later crowned King of England. I am heir to a branch of his family,” she said.
Nobody worth anything bragged about their ancestry. Yet she spoke not with pride but something closer to annoyance.
“Poor ship, everyone treats her like a ghost. She was finished forty years ago. The official name has changed any number of times, but she’s still got life in her. The equipment is new, and many of the crew are experienced alchemists, though the majority are still in training.”
“A ship crewed by alchemists? I’m surprised the hardheads in command allowed it.”
“It wasn’t easy. They rejected the proposal from the Isle of Man council, but fortunately Churchill understood. He’s often been accused of being a warmonger, but to ensure victory he alone considered the impossible.”
“So the Prime Minister himself has signed off on this? It still sounds like you’re playing with fire to me. If you provoke the Germans, they’ll come at you with everything they have.”
“And then we will defeat them. Dictators do not take kindly to failure, so a decisive defeat here will mean they never use magic and alchemy in war again. We’re fighting here so we can keep our existence hidden,” she explained.
“You sound very confident. You have information on your enemy?”
“Naturally. I know their secrets, and I even know the name and identity of the man behind their plans. Oh, is something wrong? You winced, Sarge. Never seen an owl do that before! Are you hungry again?” she asked.
“I am merely surprised. If you know the enemy’s name, then you’ve as good as won. If it is no secret, would you be prepared to share?”
There was a brief silence, then she said, “’enrich ’örbiger. A mad devil.”
That sounded clearly wrong. I assumed she was trying to say a male, German name, but I didn’t recognize it. Perhaps he just had a very strange name, but I’d heard Cockney accents tended to drop the H. In which case, his actual name…
“Hmm. So this Henrich Hörbiger has a history with you? Oh, your brow has just furrowed, Rose. I believe you already have plenty of wrinkles, no need to add any more.”
“I know why Commander G praised you so. He told me not to underestimate his forest sage.”
“I appreciate the praise, but shouldn’t you tell me about this Hörbiger now?”
“Yes. He had a mansion on the Isle of Man and lived there for quite some time, earning himself a reputation as an eccentric. Even more rude and ill-mannered than your master, he had an unusual aptitude for alchemy but lost his way and fell to ruin. To me, he was a sympathizer, a betrayer, and even a man I loved. But all of that is in the distant past. Now he is merely an enemy who must be defeated and will be attacking tonight…”
I’d lived many years and seen many overconfident people. I knew full well that most of them met tragic ends.
“Rose, your plan sounds egotistical, as if the Princess of Wales sailed out solely to crush this man’s ambitions.”
“It has done exactly that. One must become evil to fight evil.”
“In Japan, we have something called the Night Parade of One Hundred Demons. If apparitions appear visible to the eye, that means what you’re doing is extreme and unjustified, no matter its purpose. Win or lose, the resulting grudges will stain the world for time to come.”
I knew she was well aware of this, but I had no other argument to make. A wave of sadness passed over her face.
“I have one question for you,” she said. “Commander G implied that you requested the familiar contract with him. Would you tell me why?”
Commander G could be a chatterbox. I wasn’t sure how much he’d told her, but lying would get me nowhere, so I told the truth.
“Once, I had a wife and hatchling. My wife was barely older than a hatchling herself, and the child was the spitting image of her. They enriched my world with their mere presence, but my lack of magical ability resulted in them becoming trapped between worlds. I could neither restore them to life nor send them on their way to death. They forgot how to come home, lost their place in this
world and the next, suffered in darkness without end…until Commander G released their spirits. That action alone made me deem him worth serving. Although, if you ask if I have ever regretted it, I am not sure what I would say.”
“I see. Then you will never be anything more than a mere spectator. I know it was my idea, but can I ask that you not call me Rose again?”
“Very well. Lieutenant Gandly, I am prepared to see these events through as a spectator.”
No sooner had the words left my mind that the phone rang shrilly. The lieutenant picked it up, and the voice on the other end spoke in rapid English.
“Lieutenant, the fishing vessel stationed at the designated dowsing point has spotted an apparent periscope. As per earlier orders, this ship is making its way there full speed ahead.”
Lieutenant Rose D. Gandly rose to her feet, and, with a manner that would make even the Knights of Stuart obey, proclaimed, “The hunt is on!”
4
“Kapitän Prien. I am grateful for your help conveying the Wieges this far. It’s time to set them free. Please cut the Nabelschnur.”
In an iron cylinder adrift on the night sea, Special Technical Oberleutnant Henrich Hörbiger spoke into a headset.
“You sure? Without support from the U-47 you’ll have no means of getting home.” KptLt Günther Prien’s reply was clearly audible. The control room on the first Wiege had a comm wire running directly to it. There was no noticeable static on the line nor any risk of being overheard.
“I never intended to return home. I am prepared to slaughter the enemy before us, make landfall on the Isle of Man, and occupy it.”
The coldness in Hörbiger’s voice rattled even Prien, a man rightly considered implacable. After a moment, he replied, “I respect your fighting spirit, but make sure that enthusiasm does not prove your downfall. We’ve a long war ahead. It would be a shame to lose a man of your talents here.”
“I disagree. The war will end tonight. Once the world knows what my children can do, England will be forced to settle things peacefully. The battle tonight will end the war in Europe.”
“That sounds like a boast, but, if you’re a real alchemist, I imagine you are capable of just that,” said Prien.
“Kapitän, you successfully navigated us through the Dover Strait, a feat akin to magic. Now it’s my turn.”
“A shame I can’t personally see a real alchemist demonstrate their full power. This is the last contact we will have. We’ve spotted a ship off the east coast of the Isle of Man. A big one. Distance: 120,000. If you’d like, the U-47 could sink it with our torpedoes.”
“Let’s be more prudent. My bitter enemy is aboard that ship. A U-Boat could never hope to harm it.”
“My U-47 has sunk battleships, yet it’s not up to this task?” muttered Prien.
“It is not. That ship is the Princess of Wales, formerly known as the protected cruiser Andromeda.”
“As I recall, all ships of that classification were scrapped.”
“It’s an old ship, commissioned in 1899, so it’s forty-one years old now. Rare for a ship to ever get that old. 140.7 meters from prow to stern, standing dry weight of 11,000 tons, top speed of twenty and a quarter knots. Removed from the front lines in 1914, she underwent several name changes, and was used to train young sailors and as a torpedo school.”
“You could learn all that reading Jane’s Fighting Ships. No need to fear some fossil.”
“But there is! That ship is no longer a protected cruiser. It’s become a Special Alchemy Craft and is a grave threat indeed. The crew is entirely female, every one of them an alchemist or someone with similar powers. Odds are high they’ve already detected the U-47. KptLt Prien, leave the rest to me. Make your retreat.”
“Wait. You can’t just say the crew is all women and hang up! Who’s the captain, some old witch?”
“Neither a witch nor a mage. Her name is Rose Diana Gandly, chief alchemist of the Isle of Man. She’s certainly quite advanced in years, though she never told me her real age. Either way, she has clearly lived far too long. The time has come for my children and me to snuff her out.”
“Sounds like this ship’s captain is your primary target,” Prien murmured.
“I admit it! I developed Project G primarily to send that woman to hell.”
A moment after acknowledging this truth, the darkened control room’s clock let out a soft warning alarm.
“KptLt Prien, it is time. I will carry out my plan. If you wish to remain alive, put some distance between yourself and the Wieges.”
“Will you really be okay alone? I’d planned on observing and supporting from offshore.”
“I am always alone. I will defeat the woman who sentenced me to such isolation and then die in peace. My life can have no greater meaning. Please, do not get in my way.”
After that, Kapitän Prien gave up his attempts to convince the alchemist. He reverted to a professional tone, signing out with, “Roger. U-47 will retreat at full speed. May your mission be successful.”
They spoke no more. The Nabelschnur—the towing cable that housed the comm line—had been severed, and the four Wieges were no longer connected to the U-47. The Wieges, with no comm capabilities, were now mere iron tubes floating in the ocean, yet Hörbiger felt no fear. Rather, a sinister sort of elation washed over him as he turned his attention to the instrument panel.
“G Series. All fifteen units steady at eighty-five percent awakening. No abnormalities detected.”
He announced his check aloud, both to prevent careless oversights and to temper his excitement. Hörbiger viewed himself as but a component in the plan, a mechanical part that existed to perform this task. In the past he’d allowed his emotions to get the better of him, ruining everything, and this was the result. His opponent acted exclusively on her emotions. Becoming a machine was the only way to defeat her.
“Filling ballast tanks on tubes one through four. Monitoring angles, shifting to vertical positioning.”
A dull pumping sound echoed through the cramped control room. He listened as the ballast tanks beneath his feet filled with water. In sixty seconds, the Wiege’s tail was below him, leaving only the nose above water. To an
observer, they appeared to be on the verge of sinking, but as these vessels had been designed for aquatic launches of explosive missiles, this was normal operational procedure.
“Pyrotechnic fasteners activated. Nose cones released,” he said.
A muffled explosion sounded overhead. The sudden loss of pressure shook his eardrums, but Hörbiger ignored this, clutching the microphone.
“Earth, draw near. Fire, dance. Water, swell. Keter, Chochmah, Binah, Chesed, Gevurah, Tiferet, Netzach, Hod, Yesod, and Malchut; the ten sefirot with Da’at added, become emeth. I speak for the Shem HaMephorash, and as your father, I now release the seal upon thine eyes. Awake, Golems!”
Beneath lumps of earth, Hörbiger could hear the sound of pottery shattering…
5
“Golems? That’s the Germans’ secret weapon?” Finding this hard to believe, my voice was louder than I’d intended. “The clay dolls that Jewish rabbi make? I heard those were useless for anything beyond household chores. Only women and children would be afraid of them!”
The assembled officers all shot me looks of disgust. Naturally, they were all women. Most were quite young, around twenty, and some even looked to be still in their teens. My dismissal of women and children had definitely been a poor choice of words, but it would be useless trying to take it back now. But how had they all understood me? I thought I’d been directing my thoughts directly at the lieutenant.
The girls here were alchemists, or at least apprentices. Mages were in contact with my “side” of things at all times and so could easily perceive my nature and voice. But that wasn’t true for alchemists. They would have had to undergo a great deal of preparation to hear my own “voice.”
I suppose Lieutenant Rose Diana Gandly had gone to just those lengths to prepare. I looked closely at the floor and spied the answer: a small magic circle drawn on the bridge. Anyone within range would be able to hear me.
Before I managed to recover from this realization, the lieutenant turned toward my perch on the naval charts and explained calmly, “We fear golems because they deserve to be feared. Those who fail to fear them often die. I’ve lived long enough to know better.”
I adjusted my posture and tone. “Preconceptions can certainly lead to defeat. In which case, please explain. Your mortal enemy created these golems we are about to encounter?”
“Indeed. ’enrich ’örbiger was obsessed with golem research when he lived in England. He immersed himself in Jewish mysticism, memorizing Sefer Yetzirah and Sefer Ha’Zohar in the original Hebrew, and talked about artificial life awake or asleep. He returned to Germany five years ago, mainly because the elder Magus Craftsmen and I refused to help him.”
“Whatever the reason, England lost the foremost expert on golems to the enemy then. You could have imprisoned or killed him rather than allowing him to return home,” I said.
The lieutenant shook her head sadly. “’enrich performed many experiments, several of them nearly successful. No matter how I objected, nothing got through to him. I told him golems could never contribute significantly to the war, that they’d never be worth the cost. And you know what he said? ‘When the tab is settled, everything comes out a net loss. But as the numbers rise, that loss turns to profit. One day, I will lead a profitable band of golems.’”
“I have not met the man, but he clearly does not lack confidence or vision. Rational arguments make no headway with men like that. To battle them, you need an approach that defies reason…”
No sooner did those words leave my mind than realization dawned: The Princess of Wales was exactly that reason-defying approach. As I was about to be flung onto the front lines of this battle, my mind reeled, but I wasn’t given time to recover. Something pounded furiously on the window.
The gremlin was perched outside. It stuck its face in a tiny gap, saying something to the lieutenant in words I couldn’t understand. Its already sinister features twisted in a manner altogether uncanny.
Lt. Gandly nodded, frowning, then in a voice that belied her age, announced, “Ready the searchlights. Objects floating at three o’clock, distance of 9,000. Lookouts, confirm position and distance.”
Using searchlights in an area where U-Boats might be lurking was a huge risk, but she would have known that. Gandly had decided that locating and eliminating the enemy must take priority over all safety considerations. The bridge instantly filled with a hum of activity. Beams of light shone onto the water’s surface, the chief navigator spun the wheel, and the gunner shouted orders down speaking tubes.
The Princess of Wales became a single living organism that rocketed toward war.
“Word from the lookouts. Objects confirmed in designated area. Clearly man-made. Resemble periscopes but far larger!” one of the women said.
This report made up Lt. Gandly’s mind.
“Don’t let them get away! Increase speed to forty knots!”
I couldn’t believe my ears. This ship could go that fast? Old protected cruisers could barely top twenty knots. From the smell of the smokestacks I knew this ship was burning coal, not oil. This would make rapid acceleration nigh impossible.
Despite that, the Princess of Wales moved along, as fast as a brand-new destroyer or torpedo boat.
“Lieutenant. Is this ship not burning ordinary coal?” I asked.
“You caught that, huh? This ship’s chief engineer is an expert in phlogiston alchemy. The coal is mined in Birmingham, but it burns fifty times brighter than normal.”
“Impossible! The boiler would explode!”
“Not ours. Strengthening spells have been cast on the boiler and turbine. Ours may be the most durable machinery in the entire Royal Navy.”
“That’s not the end, is it? To achieve acceleration like this you must be working against the rules of the natural world on any number of levels.”
“That we are. We’ve dramatically increased lubrication on the ship’s hull. Fluid friction with the sea water and the friction surrounding the screw are both greatly reduced, to the point where this ship treats the water’s surface like an ice skating rink,” she said.
Alchemy on this scale would require calling in favors from the world’s greatest alchemists or at least gathering a large number of still fairly impressive ones. Even mid-tier alchemists and alchemists-in-training could do a great deal in sufficient numbers. Special Alchemy Craft truly was an apt name.
The lieutenant gave the order to attack. “Scattershot anti-submarine guns, prepare to fire. All charges at a distance of 300. Load fresh charges as soon as you’re done!”
In less than thirty seconds the guns mounted on the bridge spat fire, and the night sky lit up. These were two mounted guns for mortar fire. Ordinary anti-sub depth charges would be released from the racks at the ship’s stern, or fired from the ship’s side, so being able to fire in the direction the ship was headed was a huge advantage.
