Chapter 53
The honorable Judge Longfrie turns to Jack McGraw, who is looking resplendent and handsome in his best Police uniform. “On the basis of your most thorough report, Mr McGraw, concerning the circumstances of Miss Swift’s notoriety. I am compelled to drop all international charges and issue warrants for the real culprits. The only charge remaining is the domestic charge of piloting an airship without an air-worthiness certificate.”
The judge turns to me, standing in the witness box. “Miss Nina Dorothy Swift.”
Yes, Dorothy is my middle name. I bet my friends are snickering behind their hands at the sound of it.
“You are charged with piloting an airship from the docks of New Frisco without an air-worthiness certificate. How do you plead?”
I straightened myself in my Pilot’s Guild uniform, newly pressed for the occasion.
“Not guilty, my Lord.” I lie.
It’s been two months since our sensational return. The scars on my arm are healing nicely, but the severed tendons will never repair. Jack’s father, Mayor of New Frisco, arranged for a famous Coggler to construct an exoskeleton round my left hand. Tiny brass pistons and levers perform the same function as the missing ligaments, giving me almost full control of my hand again. Jack thinks it makes me look rakish; Izzy says I’m now a full-fledged pirate.
The court room is packed with spectators to see the notorious Nina Swift. No doubt Fernando is cringing at the naked publicity of it all.
The judge turns back to Jack. “On what basis does the state of New Frisco bring these charges?”
Jack retrieves a notebook from his pocket, he loves playing the part. “Unfortunately, M’lord, the airship in question, the Shonti Bloom, has disappeared; presumed destroyed, stolen by a Microtough agent. Without any evidence, there is no way to determine whether the charges are true or not. I must, reluctantly,” he gives me a wink, “move that the charges be dropped.”
The Judge nods once. “Agreed. Case dismissed. Miss Nina Dorothy Swift—”
Does he have to keep repeating my full name?
“—you are free to go.”
Outside the courtroom I give Jack the hug and kiss he deserves.
He whispers in my ear, “Well done, Dorothy.”
I punch him in the bicep for his cheekiness.
“Yuck.” Scud still doesn’t approve of deliberate body contact, but he is warming to the idea of Jack and I as an item—slightly.
Izzy is there too. “Well done Nina. Well done Jack.”
Fernando slips an arm around Izzy’s waist. I guess they have made up again. Without the immediacy of death and the adrenaline of adventure their relationship seems somewhat rocky. “We’re off to the Square Balloon. Anyone else care to join us?”
“Excellent idea.” I link arms with all my friends and guide them towards the Square Balloon. Time to celebrate my freedom. I am no longer top of the wanted lists of law enforcement agencies across the globe. Except for my enemies, I could set foot on any platform, anywhere in the world, with impunity.
As we stroll off across the square, I think I catch a glimpse of Trent in the shadows, but when I look again there is nothing—just my imagination.
Even though I am now a free woman, my future is now far more dangerous than I’ve made out to my friends. Sometime it keeps me awake at night: did my mother survive the Microtough assault? Are the Daughters of Gaia still out there? Will the assassins want revenge for Borker’s death? I am determined to spend the next three years applying myself diligently to my piloting master’s degree. There is no way I am leaving New Frisco territory anytime soon.
When faced with an uncertain future, defeat anxiety with feverish activity—in this case, a party.
Jack separates me from the group. “You lot go on in, I want to show Nina something.”
With an arm around my shoulder, he guides me down the street towards a jeweler. Oh, no, he can’t be serious. I’m not ready to have my freedom curtailed yet.
Jack stops before we reach the Jewelers. “Bet you thought I was going to show you a ring?”
“Didn’t even cross my mind.” How easy it is for me to lie to Jack.
“I just wanted some privacy so I can give you a proper kiss, without Scud making disapproving sounds.” Jack is such a romantic.
I reach up with my arms around his neck. Suddenly, something crashes into me with such force it knocks us both into the mouth of an alley and we sprawl on the ground.
“Nina, thank goodness I found you.” Trent. It really is Trent, but no Trent I’ve ever seen. He is dressed all posh: he’s wearing a gold embroidered waistcoat, under a long black frock—coat, and a smart top hat—which is now in the gutter.
I scramble to my knees, then realize I’m covered in blood. In a panic, I check myself and then Jack, but it is Trent who is injured. Gouts of blood are pumping from a wound in Trent’s stomach.
Quickly, because I can see the seriousness of the wound, I tear away a wide strip from the tail of my shirt and press it against the wound. “Trent, you are hurt. Hold this here. It will help staunch the blood. Jack, we have to get Trent to a doctor.”
With an effort, Trent raises himself on one elbow. “Take this.” He thrusts a small package, wrapped in brown paper, into my tunic. “Take it to a Reaver called Papa Doyle. He’ll know what to do with it.”
Jack has regained his feet and pulled his pistol. “Where is Nina’s airship, you rogue?”
Trust Jack to go into lawman mode. “Jack, Trent is wounded. We have to help him.”
Trent ignores both of us. “Papa Doyle—got that?”
I nod.
“Repeat it to me!” Trent orders.
“Take the package to Papa Doyle. But not before we’ve got you to a doctor.” I try to raise Trent to his feet.
“Stan, The Man will help you.”
I nearly drop Trent in surprise. “Not Stan Wellingham—”
“—It’s very important, Nina. Don’t let her do it again.”
I don’t need to ask who he’s referring to—I know he means my mother. Is she still alive?
Bang.
A shot rings out from the entrance of the alley. Trent jerks once, then flops across my lap, he looks up in surprise, blood gushes from his mouth. He tries to say something, but has no words left. “Papa Doyle,” he mouths. “Don’t let her…” The spark leaves his eyes, his mouth falls open, his body slackens, and he droops limply in my arms. He’s dead.
“No, Trent. No.” I sob. In panic, I search for help. “Jack, do something.”
Jack stares unwaveringly down the barrel of his gun, at the mouth of the alley.
Just inside the alleyway stands a booted woman in a green velvet dress. Her face is hidden behind a dark net veil, hanging from an elegant top hat—her dress matches the wide green ribbon around the brim of the hat. She holds a parasol over her shoulder, conveniently shielding the scene in the alley from public gaze.
The woman is pointing a small sidearm straight at my head.
The End
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If you
liked Gaia’s Brood, you will love this: Coggler’s Brood
Nina’s adventures continue. With a mystery package to deliver, an atrocity to thwart, and a love interest in tow. Nina immerses herself in Steampunk Reaver culture to find the elusive Papa Doyle, cross swords with the Master Coggler, and deliver on a promise made to a dying Microtough agent.
More airships, more swashbuckling adventure, more dastardly villains, more Steampunk fun—it's the return of the fabulous Nina Swift. Visit www.NickTraversAuthor.com for publication details of this and other books written by the same author.
Or…
Turn over for a sample chapter from Coggler’s Brood:
Coggler’s Brood
Without looking down, Jack takes my hand. He keeps me behind him as we sidle past the Daughter of Gaia and exit the alley.
Out in the main street, Jack shoves me behind him. “It’s you the Daughters want, so if you use me as a shield you should be relatively safe. I doubt they will fire on a Beat in public.”
I pull myself together, because I know he’s still taking one hell of a risk for me.
People stop to stare as we parade across the plaza: we must make a strange sight—Jack pacing steadily backwards, pointing his gun at what now appears to be an empty alley, and I shuffling along, crab fashion, trying to watch where we are going and keep myself behind the sculptured bulk of his body.
Guiltily, I realize how easy it is for me to concentrate on practical matters and push thoughts of Trent’s death to the back of my mind. “Jack, Trent is dead,” I whisper, “shouldn’t I feel more upset? Shouldn’t I be falling apart, bawling my eyes out or something? Or fainting with grief?”
Jack laughs, “Nothing fazes you, Nina. That’s one of the things I love about you—always focused on the task in hand. Sometimes, the focus of your mind is so sharp its terrifying.”
I’m reminded of something someone once said about my mother. “Beautiful and terrifying, that was your mother, Nina, beautiful and terrifying.”
Eventually, we reach another street and as Jack drops his weapon, I see a flash of green streak from the alley. Thankfully, she is heading in a different direction.
“Run!” Jack orders. “Follow me.”
I start along the street after Jack, ”Where to?”
“Beat Central in Beat Plaza, we will be safe there.” Jack ducks into a side street, he knows all the cut-throughs. If anyone can get me safely to Beat Central it is Jack.
I lengthen my stride to catch up with him. “Are you sure it’s the safest place?” My experience with Beats has not always been good. Only a few months ago a Beat Lieutenant tried to assassinate me.
“I promise you we will be safe there, Nina,” Jack calls back. ”Beats exist to ‘Serve and Protect’,” he adds proudly, “there is no better place to protect you.” Jack worships the Beats, he always has. His father, now mayor of New Frisco, was once the Beat Commissioner. The Beats are Jacks life and ambition. He’s an unfailing optimist—one of the things I love about him.
We pound through the side street and burst into another main street before skidding to a halt in Beat Plaza.
The steps of Beat Central are buzzing with law officers. The lady in the green velvet dress is already there, as are a few other veiled and smartly dressed women. She had a direct route from Central Plaza to here, while we were forced to take a dogs-leg.
For a hopeful moment I think the officers have caught her. Then she points directly at me and an officer blows his whistle. “Stop felons!”
Without waiting for Jack, I turn and run.
“Nina Swift. Jack McGraw. Murderers.” More shouts, more whistles, and a whole posse of feet pounding after us.
Jack catches up with me, “I don’t believe it. How can they possibly think we are guilty of killing Trent?”
“For a law officer, Jack, you are sometimes incredibly naive,” I pant. “A Microtough agent is dead. You were at the crime scene, brandishing a gun in public, and I’m covered in the victim’s blood. Of course we look guilty. It’s our word against hers and right now they believe her.”
We dash past a watchmakers. “We just need to surrender and explain,” Jack pants, quite reasonably.
“Are you kidding? Did you see how many Daughters of Gaia were on the steps? They obviously have the Beats in their pockets at the moment. We go anywhere near them and I bet they will shoot us down and apologies later.” My comment is underlined by a gunshot from behind us.
“Hell’s teeth, they’re shooting at us,” Jack gasps. It must be hard when your heroes morph into the bad guys. “Where do we go?”
I have an idea. “The Pilot’s Guild. They will shelter us until we can sort out this mess. Which is the quickest route.”
“This way.” Jack cuts into another side street before ducking into an alley by a grocer’s store.
The upper stories of the wooden houses close over us, leaving only a narrow strip of sunlit sky to guide us. No sunlight falls on the ground in these back streets, but I still stick to the shadows. The gloom gives me a sense of security, even though I know it’s false.
Jack leads me on a twisting winding route through the maze of narrow streets and back alleys. Soon we have shaken off our pursuers and can slow down to a steady jog.
The Pilot’s Guild is a sprawling three-story building overlooking the upper-most docks of New Frisco. We burst out of a side street, into glaring sun on the dockside, and sprint for the main doors.
With a stab of fear, I realize we are out maneuvered. The well-dressed Daughters of Gaia are already standing guard outside the Pilot’s Guild. I grab Jacks muscular arm and shove him into the cover of a rope-makers warehouse. “They’re here.”
Jack’s face creases into a look of confusion. “How could they possibly have got here ahead of us?”
“They didn’t, Jack, they out thought us. They had people coming here while we were heading for Beat Central. They know who we are and what we do—at least, they know me. They’ve probably been watching me since they arrived in case Trent made contact.
We sneak around the streets trying side doors to the guild, but they are all guarded. The Daughters of Gaia have the place locked down.
“They’re devoting a lot of people to this search, Nina,” Jack comments, thoughtfully. “Whatever message they think Trent gave you must be important to them.”
With a jolt, I realize Jack has no idea what really happened in the alley—he has no knowledge of the package I am to deliver, nestled against my heart, inside my bloody tunic.
“This way.” I lead Jack away from the Guild for a few streets then double-back to another section of the dockside. What I’m looking for is a flight of steps leading over the very edge of the floating landmass that is New Frisco. “Trent gave me a message to deliver. To someone I’ve never hear of, about something my mother is planning”. How easy it is to lie to Jack. I fool myself I’m doing it to keep him safe. Besides, if he doesn’t know the truth he can’t tell anyone else; he can’t betray me.
Jack sees where I’m headed and stops in his tracks. He has bad experience of the Under Deck. “We can go to my father, the Mayor. He will protect us, and help you deliver Trent’s message.”
“I don’t think the message is for anyone on New Frisco, Jack.” With a shudder, I remember Trent referring to Papa Doyle as a Reaver—enemies of the state of New Frisco; enemies of human kind. “Besides, if the Daughters of Gaia have infiltrated the Beats it’s with your father’s permission. I bet they’ve spun him some story about protecting us,” I add quickly, “and are guarding him just as close as the Pilot’s Guild.” There must be swarms of the Daughters on New Frisco—my mother’s sent the whole hive.
“My house then.”
“Even worse.” Jack still doesn’t understand the callous ruthlessness of the Daughters of Gaia. If they want me dead there is no safe place on New Frisco—except maybe one. The steps are unguarded so I nip across the open ground and clatter down the first flight.
Ja
ck follows, but hesitates at the first landing. “I’m not sure about this, Nina.”
I carry on down regardless. Below are the wooden tiers of the Underdeck—the shanty town, dandling below the main landmass, equally as large as New Frisco and known simply as the Underdeck. “We need to get off New Frisco, Jack. As soon as we can.”
As I hoped, Jack follows me, while pondering this thought. “An unscheduled flight off New Frisco takes money, Nina. And contacts—criminal contacts.”
“I know just the guy. Trent said he would help us.”
“No. Not Stan Wallingham. This is a bad idea, Nina.”
“I know, but I have no other choice.”
The story continues in Coggler’s Brood…
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