Blood Ties Read online

Skeeter’s face brightened, and she beamed at Qi. “Please, Miss Qi? Please. I won’t break anything, I swear. I’m good with gadgets!”

  “That’s true enough,” Cole added. “The girl’s got a gift. I suspect you two have a lot in common.”

  “I’d be honored to spend the day with you, Skeeter. And call me Qi.” She looked at Jake, smiling, and he silently mouthed the words “Thank you,” so Skeeter couldn’t see it. “There is one more thing, Chung.”

  “What is it?” the old man asked.

  “Do you know anyone who’s good with codes … and languages?”

  Chung’s head cocked to the side, looking at Jake keenly. “Well, I’m familiar with a number of both in my own language. One could not do my sort of business without such knowledge. Why do you ask?”

  Jake pulled the translation from his vest pocket and slid it across the table to Chung. The paper had both the original dots and dashes as well as what Jake thought was the correct translation. “I think it’s in Morse, but I ain’t certain. If it is, that’s as much as I could translate.”

  Chung looked at it for a few seconds and then closed his eyes for half a minute. Jake got a sense that the old man had memorized the whole thing in a glance. “It does appear to be Morse, and your translation is accurate. The stars indicate characters not in standard Morse, correct?”

  “Near as I can figure,” Jake said honestly.

  “The order of the characters appears to be properly sequenced as well.”

  “How do you mean?” Cole asked.

  “Language has a flow to it,” Chung said slowly, “a feel that looks and sounds natural, no matter what language you’re working with. Some codes shift characters off a few to the left or right in their normal sequence, making a direct translation come out as gibberish. This does not appear to be gibberish, just foreign. Unfortunately, I do not know the language, although it looks European, and it is neither German nor French.”

  “’Tain’t Spanish neither,” Cole added. “At least we know what it’s not.”

  “The Lady might be able to help, but I believe I know a man who is fairly well-versed in such things.”

  “I’d be much obliged if you could point me in the right direction. Hell, even the wrong direction would feel like I got a chance,” Jake added, laughing.

  Chung chuckled and slid the paper back to Jake. “Well, the man I’m speaking of is easy enough to find, if you can manage to make it into the places he frequents. However, I can’t make any guarantees that he will be able to help. Nor can I make any guarantees as to his sanity.”

  Everyone’s eyebrows went up but Chung’s.

  “Grandfather, you don’t mean …” Qi said, disbelief filling her voice.

  Chung nodded slowly. “The man you should speak with, Jake, is His Imperial Majesty Norton, Emperor of America and the Protector of Mexico.”

  Jake and Cole stared at Chung as if he’d just turned into an armadillo before their very eyes.

  “Jake,” Skeeter said slowly, “I thought we had a President.”

  “The last time I checked, we did. Ulysses S. Grant,” Jake said to Skeeter, bewildered. He turned to the old man at the head of the table, starting to wonder at Chung’s sanity. “Chung, we ain’t got no Emperor,” he added slowly.

  Chung smiled broadly. “I believe,” he said as he picked up his tea and stared at the dragon painted upon the delicate teacup, “that would be a matter of opinion, one Emperor Norton does not share.” He took another long sip of his tea and then grinned at the confused faces sitting around the table.

  “How do you know he’ll help us?” Cole asked.

  “The Emperor owes me several favors,” Chung said confidently. “Oh,” he added casually, “it is important that you indulge his madness, no matter how ridiculous it might seem. And if he asks you to perform any tasks, please do as he says.”

  Chapter Sixteen – The Mad Emperor

  “There’s all kinds of crazy, and ol’ Emperor Norton was probably all of ’em.”

  ~ Cole McJunkins

  “It sure was nice of Chung to front us these clothes,” Cole said as he straightened the lapels of a perfect-fitting jacket and dusted off the long, dark tails that draped down to his knees. He and Jake clattered along the cobbled streets of San Francisco in an enclosed carriage Chung had arranged for them in hopes that Ming’s men wouldn’t spot them. Cole ran a hand over the smooth material of his sleeve. The coat was a deep gray with matching pants. He wore a bright blue paisley vest and navy bow tie. A dark gray top hat finished the ensemble. “These are the nicest duds I ever wore,” Cole added. “I can’t believe how fast them ladies sized and sewed ’em up for us. Qi’s electric sewing machines are pretty slick, too. Think Chung’ll let us keep the suits?”

  “That’s the impression I got,” Jake said, and stopped to adjust the crimson, paisley cravat at his throat. He had opted for a black suit that he had to admit looked pretty good on him. He’d decided to give up his leather top hat for a silky-looking, tall topper that matched the suit, but he still wore his ocular. He’d also opted to take a stylish gentleman’s cane with a wolf’s head handle that Chung had shown him contained a wicked little surprise dagger. “Two hours for two suits made from scratch,” Jake said, impressed. “Hell, I may just pay them ladies to make me a whole slew of these vests. A color for every day of the week.” Jake’s hand slid down to his hip and found only fabric. “I sure do miss my rig, though,” he added, lamenting his missing holster.

  Jake and Cole had begrudgingly given up their holsters, but each kept one of their pistols tucked in the back of his waistband. Where Chung said they were headed, something as uncouth as holstered pistols simply wasn’t considered polite. Cole continued to peek through the curtain of the back window to see if anyone was following them, and was pretty certain they’d made it out unseen.

  The carriage finally stopped and both men got out. They found the street blocked by several low, stone pillars that kept anything larger than a horse from passing. The building they wanted was a large white stone structure set halfway up a steep hill that overlooked the San Francisco Bay. Gulls drifted on the breeze and the bright, mid-morning sunshine allowed them a view far out to sea. They could see several clippers cutting their way into and out of the bay, and there were a handful of zeppelins drifting over the water. Jake spotted a trio of bright white zepps of an unusual design hanging over the air terminal where the Jezebel had docked. Each had a large black bird emblazoned near the tail. At first he thought they might belong to Szilágyi, but the foreigner’s zepp had been black, not white. Dismissing it, Jake turned and headed towards the consulate.

  “It’s too bad we couldn’t take Skeeter along,” Cole said quietly.

  “Don’t you start,” Jake growled. “I’m still pissed at her.”

  “I know Jake, and you have every right to be. I ain’t sayin’ what she did was right, but she did save our asses … again.”

  “Language!” Jake blurted. He glared at Cole and then laughed. “She does have a whole lotta gumption, don’t she?”

  “That she does,” Cole agreed, smiling.

  “I just couldn’t stand to see her get hurt, Cole.”

  “I know, Jake. She’s grown on me, too.”

  “Well, can’t worry about it none now. She’s here and we gotta deal with it. Thank God Qi was willing to keep an eye on her. That shop of Qi’s should keep Skeeter preoccupied from now till whenever, I suspect.”

  “I reckon. Guess we should head on in,” Cole added.

  “Yep. You ready for this?”

  “As ready as I’m gonna be.”

  Jake set his top hat on straight and walked deliberately up to the front gate. There were two men in what Jake and Cole both knew was a variant of the Mexican Army dress uniform. The jackets were navy blue, decorated with gold epaulets and bright red chest pieces trimmed in gold braid. Their pants were bright white, and blue sashes split down across their chests diagonally. The tall hats they wore reminded Jake of t
hose he’d seen some navy men wear, long from front to back with the sides folded up like a clam and a bright white feather running down the middle. They each had silver sabers and held long rifles with long bayonets affixed. They stood at attention with the butts of the rifles on the ground before them. They stood like statues as Jake and Cole passed between them and headed up the long steps to the entrance of the Mexican Consulate.

  The large, double-doors were already open and familiar music drifted out from the embassy. Jake and Cole looked at each other as they recognized the sounds of an automaton trio.

  “It can’t be,” Cole said, shaking his head and smiling. “Here?”

  The song was different, but there was no mistaking the source. Mixed in with the automaton harmonies floated an assortment of conversations in low voices. One conversation—dotted by occasional laughter—stood out from the rest, and a singular voice could clearly be heard over all.

  Jake and Cole stepped into a lavish foyer. The floor was shining, white and gray marble inlaid with gold flecks, and the walls were adorned with a wide assortment of fine portraits and landscapes. Broad steps rose to the left and right, meeting in the middle over a hallway that stretched away toward the back of the building.

  They turned to their right, following the music and voices into a large dining room. A thirty-foot mahogany table split the room, with enough space on either side to put an identical table crosswise. Meats, fruits, breads, and pastries of all kinds, piled high, made a sumptuous feast that Cole was clearly anxious to dig into.

  To the left, in the far corner of the room, stood another automaton trio, moving stiffly but still making the same beautiful music. Again, their faces were different, and each of them wore pristine white pants and shirts as well as bright blue vests made of shimmering silk. Five groups of people were scattered around the left-hand side of the room. Based on the direction their backs were pointed, Jake could tell they were trying to ignore a sixth, larger group off to the right in front of a big, bay window. Nearly a dozen people in elegant dresses and sheer frocks stood clustered around a short gentleman standing on a chair, his right hand raised in a fist.

  “That has got to be the Emperor,” Cole said quietly, nodding towards the gentleman on the chair. At first Jake thought the man had on a Union Army General’s uniform, but as he approached he realized that it was only an approximation that had been loosely based upon the Union standard.

  “… friends, We are here to tell you that Our loyal servants, the American people, are a proud people and a strong people and a brave people … and they will stand by Mexico against any incursion, even from the tyranny of George Cromwell, that wretched, pig-butchering villain of a Texas President.…”

  Jake liked Emperor Norton already. It seemed they shared a sincere loathing for Cromwell. “Yep,” Jake whispered. “That’s him.”

  Emperor Norton had on a modified Union Infantry cap, but with a much shorter brim and higher crown, and the strap that went around was made of white leather. Gold goggles perched on top of the brim. They stuck out several inches with copper cylinders and gold end caps. The end-caps had three lenses arrayed round the center, one pair black, one red, and one clear. The pants he wore tapered at mid-thigh, with large flares of the fabric to the left and right, and the man wore white, leather spats that covered from his knees to the tips of his black boots. His blue coat had tails that made it to the backs of his knees, and he wore it buttoned up nearly to his collar. A yellow cravat blossomed at his throat, and the man had obviously gone to great trouble to fluff it out so it appeared to be almost spilling out onto his chest. Wide gold epaulets covered his shoulders, with the right one having a thick gold braid that passed under his arm.

  The Emperor shouted at the people around him like a fire-and-brimstone preacher. And his audience appeared to be smiling, some of the ladies clearly giggling behind colored lace fans. None of them seemed to be moved by the Emperor’s oratory, but this clearly did not dissuade him from speaking with a fierce passion. “If Cromwell has the audacity to gather troops along the Mexican border, We shall raise the American Imperial Army and call upon those Indian tribes in the Free Territories with whom We have made alliances. We will wipe President Cromwell from his presidential palace like wind blows away the leaves of autumn!”

  “Imperial Army?” Cole murmured. “That boy is crazier than a shithouse rat.”

  As they approached, Jake got a better look at the strange white, leather bracers that adorned the Emperor’s wrists. The one raised in the air appeared to be a weapon of some sort, with two short, stocky, brass barrels that ended in copper prongs. The barrels stuck out of a blocky brass housing with several dials. Copper tubing and wires plugged into a smaller brass housing near his elbow. Mounted in between was a brass cylinder lined by small gaps that contained a slowly-spinning core that glowed faintly. The housing had three, blinking, red lights that pulsed like a heartbeat.

  Jake couldn’t get a good look at the other bracer, but it looked even more complex than the first. Jake and Cole stopped at the outer edge of the circle surrounding Emperor Norton. As Jake stared, the man’s eyes turned and locked on Jake’s good eye. The Emperor paused for a moment, a fleeting instant of stillness that most of the audience didn’t seem to pick up, but Jake did. In that instant the Emperor winked, a flicker of eyelash that could easily have been a twitch or a brushing of dust from the air.

  Jake saw it for what it was.

  “My friends,” Norton continued “it will be Our greatest pleasure to serve and protect the Mexican people as if they were Our own. And with that, We must excuse Ourself. We have important matters of the Empire to discuss with two of Our greatest captains.” Emperor Norton raised an open hand to Jake and Cole, and every face of the group turned to face them.

  Jake and Cole froze, surprised looks on their faces and their cheeks going crimson. They slowly looked at each other, bewildered, and then turned their heads to the Emperor who had stepped off the chair and approached them with open arms.

  “Lasater! McJunkins!” Emperor Norton shouted. “O Captains, my Captains! Was your mission successful?” The entire room went quiet for a moment. Obviously accustomed to his outbursts, the quiet chatter started up again as if nothing had happened. The group surrounding Norton broke apart into smaller groups, and both Jake and Cole could hear hushed whispers that included the Emperor’s name and a fair amount of giggling from the ladies.

  “Umm.…” Jake began slowly, confused and a bit uncomfortable. Something in Norton’s eyes gave Jake pause.

  Spreading his hands wide at the people around the room, the Emperor soothed, “It’s all right, gentlemen, these people are trusted allies.”

  “Yes … Your Highness …” Cole spoke up a bit awkwardly, “… we were successful,” he added, bowing to the Emperor.

  “Excellent! Perhaps we should retire to Ambassador Rodrigo’s office to discuss the details.”

  “Yes, Your Highness,” Jake offered, intent on playing along, “I think that would be best. The details of our … er … mission are best not shared in polite company.”

  “Of course, gentlemen, of course!” Norton stepped up between Jake and Cole, turned them around, and, with his arms around their shoulders, eased them back out the way they had come. They walked across the foyer just as a tall, thin man with stark Spanish features approached carrying a tray covered with petits fours. “Miguel,” the Emperor said urgently, separating himself from Jake and Cole. He stepped up to the server, grasped him lightly by the arm, and leaned in, whispering quietly, but loud enough for Jake and Cole to hear. “Are those packages ready for delivery?” As mad as the Emperor seemed, Jake heard none of that madness in the question. And for a few fleeting seconds, there was none of it in the Emperor’s eyes.

  “Sí, Emperador!” Miguel hissed.

  “Excellent. Please bring them to the Ambassador’s office when you have a moment.”

  “Sí, Emperador. It will only be a few minutes,” Miguel added, noddin
g once, his accent thick with the influences of Spain, not Mexico. The Emperor released Miguel’s arm who then stepped away, nodding at both Jake and Cole, but not before he gave a wink and a slight grin, acting as if he merely entertained the ravings of a harmless but lunatic mind.

  “Come, gentlemen,” Norton said, taking Jake and Cole by the arm and leading them across the foyer into a large room that appeared to be a ballroom of some kind. “Miguel will be along shortly with what I require.” Turning to the right, Emperor Norton led them through a wide set of double-doors that opened onto a lavish office. Plush, cherry wood furniture with burgundy cushions and matching carpet gave the room a warm feeling. Bookshelves lined the walls, and two couches framed several chairs in front of an immense desk.

  Emperor Norton sat behind the desk and stared at Jake and Cole. Jake saw the madness as plain as day. “Forgive the deception, gentlemen, but it is important that my audience not suspect that either of you are part of my entourage.”

  Jake finally got a look at the components attached to the Emperor’s left greave. It had a small, rectangular box with red and green lights along one edge and a small toggle switch. The front face had a silver mesh, and Jake had no idea what it might be for. He wasn’t convinced the thing was more than a madman’s showpiece. There were gaps in the housing that exposed a subtle, green glow, reminding Jake of the Thumper’s aether power cells and many of the gizmos Skeeter came up with.

  “Entourage?” Cole said slowly, looking around the office.

  “Easy, Cole,” Jake said quietly under his breath. He smiled at the Emperor. “I take it you got the message from Master Xing.”

  “Yes,” the Emperor nodded. “Ambassador Xing’s message arrived earlier this morning.”

  “Ambassador.…” Jake confirmed slowly. “Right,” he added, feeling like he walked on eggs with the man sitting comfortably before him. Jake had met a number of crazy people in his time, and Emperor Norton sure sounded crazy, but the more Jake watched the man, the more he got the sense that perhaps Norton wasn’t entirely what he appeared to be, as if some role were being acted out.