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The Voyage of the Minotaur – Chapter 13 Excerpt

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It was chilly and wisps of mist hung in the air. On the distant shore, beyond the wall formed by impossibly tall redwood trees, large spruces, massive maple and bay trees, filled in between by thick huckleberry and azalea bushes and wave upon wave of rhododendron, some giant and no doubt frightening monster roared out a challenge. From its tiny animal carrier on deck, the little dragon answered.

“Gawp!”

Senta stepped onto the deck and knelt down by the box. Zurfina had dressed her in another weird outfit, this one a floor length black dress with a white collar. A black ceramic rose right in the front of her neck that made it difficult to look down at the high-heeled black sandals on her feet. Of course Zurfina had on a matching dress, and cut a striking figure standing along the railing of the forward deck with the Captain, Miss Dechantagne, the Dechantagne brothers, and other notables, all of whom were dressed in light summer clothing, as they surveyed the coastline.

“Pet!” said the dragon.

“Yep, it’s me,” said Senta. “I’m going to take you out, but you have to have your leash on.”

The dragon hissed. She opened the door of the carrier and the dragon climbed out onto the top. He turned his head and pointedly looked the other direction as she snapped the little chain onto the ring around his ankle. Once the little clip had snapped shut, Senta attached the other end of the chain to a bracelet on her right wrist.

“See there. We’re both chained by the wrist. Nobody’s the boss.”

“Gawp,” said the dragon, and then spreading its wings to balance, it climbed up her arm and onto her shoulder. It slithered down to lie across her shoulders, one hand and one foot holding onto her dress and one hand and one foot holding onto her hair. Senta stood up. The little dragon was now over four feet long from nose to tip of tail, but he was only about six inches thick across the belly and he was surprisingly light.

“What do you want to do?”

“Gawp.”

“Me too. This is sooo boring.”

The ship had been sailing parallel to the coast for the past four days and Senta was getting tired of it. What was the point of sailing all the way to Mallon, if you didn’t get out and walk around on it? Twenty days was more than enough time to explore every square inch of the largest battleship and Senta had spent more than three times that length of time on the Minotaur. Not even murders, gunfights, and drinking wine until you threw up could take away the boredom forever.

“Fina,” said the dragon.

“Alright.”

Senta walked toward the front of the ship. She had gone only about halfway to where Zurfina and the others stood watching the coastline roll past, when a figure stepped out of the shadows. A freckled face and striped shirt quickly identified the shady figure.

“Hey Graham,” said Senta.

“Hi Senta. What’ya doing?”

“Nothing. He wants to go up by the grown-ups.” She indicated the dragon with her thumb.

“Can I come?”

“Sure. Just don’t get too close, ‘cause he’ll bite you.”

“I thought he was tame.”

“You can’t tame a dragon. Zurfina says you can’t tame anything that’s smarter than you are.”

“Who says he’s smarter than me?” Graham was indignant.

“Not just you, stupid. Dragons are super smart. When he gets big, he’ll be able to talk and do magic and all kinds of cool stuff.”

“Brill,” said the boy.

Senta and Graham walked forward, the boy keeping several paces behind her at all times, until they reached the group of adults. Miss Dechantage was wearing a yellow dress with lots of lace and a matching hat, tied below her chin with a lace ribbon. Her dress was almost the same color as the suit Professor Calliere was wearing. It made him look like a very large banana. Mr. Korlann was much more dignified. His grey suit was so light that it would have seemed white, had he not been standing next to Miss Lusk in her white day dress. Senta saw Miss Lusk reach over discretely and touch Mr. Korlann’s hand. Wizard Labrith was wearing a light brown suit and Wizard Kesi, for once not in colorful silks, was dressed the same. They both stood near the back of the group, all four of their eyes boring holes into the back of Zurfina’s black dress. The two Dechantagne brothers were both wearing khaki safari clothes and pith helmets. The older brother looked like he was sick. Finally Father Ian had eschewed his traditional robes for a more modern suit with a clerical collar.

“This is it just ahead,” said Lieutenant Dechantagne, pointing. “You see the bay just here, and this land just beyond is the peninsula.”

“I’ll send word up to the Captain,” said the older Dechantagne brother.

“Children are limited to the aft deck of the ship,” said Miss Dechantagne, noticing Senta and Graham for the first time and looking down her nose at them.

“Children with dragons may go wherever they wish,” said Zurfina, without turning around.

Miss Dechantagne made a clicking sound with her tongue. Miss Lusk gave Senta a wink. Senta and Graham walked to the side, out of the way of the adults and looked at the forest moving past.

“Would you look at that!” shouted Father Ian.

A monstrous creature had stepped out of the trees and onto the shore. It was reptilian, and looked to be more than thirty feet long from its strange beak-like snout to the tip of its long thick, waving tail. It had a bulky body and though it walked on two stocky back legs, only sometimes using its lighter forelegs, it did so completely hunched over, using the long tail for balance. It was an olive color overall, but had yellowish vertical stripes down its back. No sooner had the creature presented itself than another and then another of the beasts stepped from the forest to walk along the beach. Soon an entire herd of nearly fifty of the monsters was tramping across the rocks and gravel. Most were as large as the original, but some were smaller and some were only half as big.

“What the devil are those?” asked Mr. Korlann

“They are a type of reptile common in Mallon,” said Professor Calliere. “They’re called dinosaurs.”

“They’re quite large,” said Miss Lusk.

“I’ve seen bigger,” said Lieutenant Dechantagne.

“There are hundreds of varieties,” continued Calliere. “They are related to dragons, in the same way that lemurs and monkeys are related to human beings.”

Both Father Ian and Zurfina made the same derisive sound.

Tesla’s Stepdaughters – Chapter 8 Excerpt

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Airflivvers typically had an airspeed of nearly two hundred miles per hour, and this one seemed to be one of the fastest, so the flight to Oxford took just less than two hours. Along the way Andrews learned quite a bit about pilot Deb Gale, who was nothing if not communicative. She was twenty one, had moved to Atlanta from Ohio in order to get her piloting job, lived with two friends in a small apartment, and had a long distance friendship with a young man in the enclaves named Bud that she hoped would blossom into romance.

“I want to eventually get a job flying one of the big dirigibles, after I get enough airtime in. Right now, I’m just enjoying the adventure. You’ve got to have fun and adventure in your life while you’re young. That’s what I keep telling Bud. He’s twenty four and he’s still afraid to move up north. Pretty soon he’ll be too old for adventure and then what will he do.”

There was no airport in Oxford, at least not one capable of landing an airship. There was a small tarmac where four or five airflivvers parked next to a single Quonset hut. A single black and white police cruiser was waiting nearby. Once they had landed, Andrews climbed out of the passenger side. Deb secured the craft and then followed him. They were met by a single uniformed woman climbing out of the car. She was a stocky woman in her fifties, her hair shot with grey.

“Agent Andrews?”

“Sherriff Donnelly.” He reached out and shook hands.

“My goodness, I can’t believe it. An actual man right here in Oxford.”

“There are no other men in town?”

“Not for years now.”

“But you’ve known other men?”

“I’ve known a few,” she said, but didn’t elaborate.

“As I told you on the phone, I’m looking for Pearl Kerrigan.”

“I can drive you out to her place. She lives right outside of town. Nobody’s seen her in weeks though.”

“I’m coming too,” said Deb, as they piled into the police car.

“Alright,” said Andrews. “But stay out of the way.”

They drove through town. The once thriving main street had fallen to disrepair and beyond it was a town filled with old worn down houses with peeling paint and newer mobile homes set back from the street in lots overgrown with weeds and brush. Beyond the edge of town were a few small farms and then the ruins of abandoned farm houses. At last they pulled up in front of a turn of the century home. It was in better shape than some of the places they had seen, but it looked quiet now. The windows were all shuttered over and there seemed to be no sign of life.

Sheriff Donnelly got out of the car and walked up onto the front porch, peering into the front window before knocking on the door. Andrews got out and walked back along the long driveway toward the separated garage behind. He heard the sheriff knock several times and then call out but there was no answer. The garage had a door that slid from the side and it didn’t seem to be locked, so he pushed it far enough to create a two foot wide opening. He stared into the darkness inside.

“Aren’t you going to take out your gun?” asked a voice behind him.

“Get back to the car,” he told Deb, who had followed him around back.

“Not on your life. You have to get your adventure while you’re young.”

He pulled his coil gun from its holster and flipped it on. He thought briefly about threatening to shoot the pilot if she didn’t return to the car, but he didn’t think it would have any effect.

“Stay behind me.”

He pointed his weapon into the darkness and then followed it inside. Not expecting to be greeted by gunfire, he was never the less ready to return fire if necessary. Though there were no windows in the building, the light through the door gave quite a bit of illumination and his eyes quickly adjusted, allowing him to see even into the corners. There was nothing unusual. It was a garage. A workbench, dusty but uncluttered sat before a pegboard full of mechanic’s tools, a shelf of old paint stood in one corner, a lawn mower in the other. In the center of the floor, a car was covered by a tarp. Reaching up, he pulled it off to reveal a 1969 Studebaker Daytona ragtop.

“Doesn’t look like anybody’s been home for a while,” said the sheriff from the doorway. “Find anything?”

“No.”

“Just this door under the car,” said Deb.

Beneath the car was indeed a small wooden door about three feet square, with a rope handle. Opening the garage door, Andrews and Donnelly pushed the car out into the driveway, Deb pushed too, steering with one hand stuck through the driver’s side window. They were then able to open the door which led down cement steps to a storm cellar.

“Let me go down first,” said Donnelly, pulling her flashlight from her belt.

She descended the steps and once at the bottom flipped on a switch illuminating the room with electric light. Andrews followed her down and they found themselves in a normal example of the types of root cellars kept in the area. It was constructed of old used brick. Along the opposite wall was a shelving unit filled with jars of canned vegetables, a small cot sat against the wall to the right. Andrews turned around and looked at the wall behind them.

“That can’t be good.”

A small desk sat against the wall and spread across it were dozens of pictures cut from old magazines—all pictures of the Ladybugs, and a small jar of white paint, the brush still in it. Above the desk was a gun rack with spaces for two rifles, and both spaces were empty. On the wall above the desk but below the gun rack someone had used the white paint to carefully write out a long script message upon the red bricks. “The enemy said: ‘I will pursue, I will overtake, I will divide the spoil. My lust shall be satisfied upon them, I will draw my sword, my hand shall destroy them.”

“Is that from the bible?” asked Deb, now at the bottom of the stairs.

“Yes,” he replied. “It’s also from Bathsheba, the song from the Ladybugs’ spotted album.

The Voyage of the Minotaur – Chapter 12 Excerpt

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Getting up, he grabbed a white towel from a stack on a shelf nearby and pressed it to his face. It was quickly turning red. It was the only bit of color in the room of white and grey. Still holding the towel to his bleeding nose, he opened the supply closet door and peered out into the hall in both directions. There wasn’t a person in sight. He stepped out into the hallway and closed the door behind him. He moved quickly away from his hiding place. He had to take the towel away from his nose in order to climb a ladder up to the next deck. The blood began to drip quickly again as he climbed.

On the next deck, he pinched his nose with the towel to try and slow the blood flow, but winced in pain. He looked around for a moment and then realized where he had to go. He stepped quickly along forward, but had to stop after a moment and lean against the wall because he was feeling lightheaded. He took a few deep breaths and continued on. At last he came to the cabin door he needed, and knocked. The door popped wide open and the broad body, big stomach, and round rosy face of Father Ian appeared.

“Good to see you, Captain Dechantagne!” boomed Father Ian’s voice. “Don’t stand out in the hallway. Come in. Come in. Good gracious, what has happened to you?”

“I cut myself shaving,” said Terrence, pulling the towel away from his face. “I was hoping that you could help.”

“I should say you have!” Father Ian let out a long whistle. “Sit down. As a matter of fact, I have just the help you need right here. Sister Auni here is just the person to set you right again.”

In the corner of the room, unnoticed by Terrence until this moment was a very thin woman in the long white robes of a church acolyte. Her jet black hair was cut straight across her forehead, and hung down low in back. She had deep set grey eyes and prominent cheek bones. She stood up from her seat and was several inches taller than Terrence, though only about half as wide at the shoulder. When she spoke, it was in breathy tones.

“I’m very please to make your acquaintance, Captain Dechantagne. May I take a look at your nose please?”

She placed long thin hands on either side of his face and tilted his head upward so that she could look at his injury.

“Razor slice,” she said. “I would expect to see an injury like this in a tavern brawl.”

“Sorry. No taverns available,” said Terrence.

“In the name of the Holy Father I see your pain,” she said. “In the name of the Holy Savior I heal your wounds.”

Terrence felt life flowing from her hands. Not only did his nose stop stinging, but the pain in the back of his head and in his shoulders that he hadn’t even noticed before went away. The residual stinging in his eyes also went away. He was sure that any redness caused by the White Opthalium was gone now. Sister Auni pulled her hands away from his face and smiled.

“I knew I came to the right place,” Terrence said.

“Of course you did, my boy,” said Father Ian. “Perfect timing, too. The sister and I had just finished our prayer session. You are just in time to see her back to her cabin.

“You couldn’t be in any safer hands,” he said to Sister Auni.

“Oh indeed,” she said. “I know that already.”

Shrugging, Terrence offered his arm to the acolyte and led her out of the room.

“Good night to both of you!” Father Ian called out in his thundering voice, and then he closed the cabin door behind them.

Walking through the narrow halls of the ship, Terrence usually found it difficult to escort a lady and had to walk in a sort of shuffling sidestep to make room, and if the woman was wearing an evening gown, it was pretty much impossible to walk side by side in any case. This was not so with Sister Auni. Not only did her clerical robes flow straight from her shoulders to the floor, her entire form was scarcely as wide as his two hands splayed out side by side. Her shoulders seemed almost too narrow to hold up her normal sized head.

“Sister Auni!” A young woman Terrence didn’t know came running down the hall toward them. “Sister Auni! Mrs. Duplessis is having her baby, and the doctor wants you there as quickly as possible.”

“Lead the way, child,” said the acolyte.

The three of them made their way through a series of hatches and corridors until they came to a closed cabin door. A group of several women and girls were standing outside in the hallway. The door was quickly opened and the young woman who had fetched her, led Sister Auni inside. As she turned to close the door after her, she looked into Terrence’s face.

“Thank you, Captain Dechantagne,” she said in her breathy voice. “But I think I shall go on from here alone. Have a pleasant evening, and watch out when you are shaving.”

Terrence stood thinking for a moment. Then he gradually noticed that he was being watched from all sides by the six or seven females around him. He felt as though he had stumbled onto a stage without a script, or stepped into the middle of some savage ritual whose codex he didn’t understand.

“Ladies,” he said, and slowly backed out of the hallway, and then turned and made his way up to the topside of the ship and out onto deck.

Tesla’s Stepdaughters – Chapter 7 Excerpt

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After breakfast, Andrews ordered a cab which drove them to a large park a short distance away. Atlanta was a beautiful city with white buildings and blue skies, a stark contrast to the smoky and black cities of the north. The city park was filled with trees and fountains, with a winding path wandering through them and eventually circling around to where it began. Just beyond the path was the playground with ten or twelve children spinning on the merry-go-round, sliding down the metal slide only to run around and back up to slide down again, or swinging in singles or pairs. Andrews watched for a moment, all the time it took to determine that all the children were girls.

“Shall we take a stroll around?”

Ruth nodded.

They slowly made the circuit of the park, enjoying the sun on their skin.

“This is kind of strange,” said Ruth.

“What is?”

“I haven’t seen any black faces since we arrived in Atlanta—not in the airport, not at the hotel, and not here at the park.”

“I hadn’t noticed.”

“Well, you wouldn’t, would you? In Chicago, maybe one in ten women was of African descent. Even in New York…”

“Well, there are black people in this region, right? They didn’t all move north during the Great War?”

“A lot of them did move, enough for historians to call it the Great Migration anyway. But yes, there should still be some here.”

They had just about completed the circuit and were approaching the playground again, when Andrews saw two Atlanta police officers walking across the grass toward them. Placing his hand on Ruth’s lower back, he altered their course slightly toward them. Both officers were women, wearing blue uniforms with six pointed stars and leather-billed eight point caps.

“Hold it right there, ladies,” said one of the cops, lazily laying a hand on her sidearm.

Andrews moved his hand to Ruth’s stomach and gently moved her behind him.

“Science Police,” he said, loudly.

The two officers stopped, their eyes opening, though whether startled by the tone of his voice or by the statement of his affiliation, it was impossible to say.

“Do you have some identification to that effect… um, sir?” asked the one who had spoken before in a pronounced southern accent.

Andrews carefully withdrew his wallet from his right breast pocket, and holding it open so that both the picture ID and the badge were in clear view, he stepped toward them.

“Alright, Agent Andrews. We were just checking out a call.”

“A call about what?”

“A citizen reported two suspicious-looking people in the park.”

“Suspicious-looking because they thought I was a woman dressed like a man, or because of her color?”

The officer looked like she had something foul in her mouth. She said. “The colored women usually frequent the park on the other side of the train tracks.”

“The other side of the tracks… how… cliché. Segregation is illegal. The Science Council outlawed it in 1963.”

“We don’t work for your Science Council…” the other officer started, but was silenced when the first raised her hand.

“There’s no segregation here. They just usually spend their time at the other park. You have a nice day now.” She turned and started back toward the black and white Packard beside the road. Her partner stood for just a minute, as though she wanted to say something else, then she too headed back toward the cruiser.

Tesla’s Stepdaughters – Chapter 6 Excerpt

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A quick note that Tesla’s Stepdaughters is now available at the Sony Reader Bookstore.

The last known residence of Miss Athena Kesting was in Bolingbrook, which with traffic took almost forty minutes to reach. The quaint little village was covered by a large glass and steel dome to protect residents from the acrid smoke and acid rain that was the bane of the Midwest. The address in question proved to be huge house on a large, fenced estate.

“Not what I was expecting,” commented Loginova, as she pulled the car up the driveway, passed extensive gardens.

The two agents parked and got out. On either side of the front door were life-sized marble statues of women in long flowing dresses. Andrews knocked, using the brass door knocker, and when the door opened, he was surprised to find a woman who was the spitting image of the statue on the left.

“Good morning,” said Loginova, showing her badge. “We would like to speak to Miss Athena Kesting.”

“Oh. She doesn’t live here anymore.”

“Can you give us her forwarding address?”

“Won’t you come in please?”

The two agents entered a home that was as opulent inside as the outside had hinted. Passing through a foyer covered in rich wood paneling, they entered a stunningly decorated living room and sat down on a beautiful antique sofa. Two other women were seated when they came in, but both rose to their feet.

“Inga, would you ask Mr. Larkin to come down?” asked the woman with whom they had entered. “My husband will very much want to speak with you.”

A few minutes later, the gentleman in question entered the room. He was an average looking man, wearing casual though expensive clothes. He was slightly balding, something that he had chosen not to try to cover up by combing his hair over.

“Good Morning,” he said, shaking hands with both agents. “I’m Evan Larkin, and these are my wives Elke Lom-Larkin, Angelina Redmond-Larkin, and Inga Lom-Larkin.”

“Agent Andrews, and this is Agent Loginova.”

“So what can we do for you,” Larkin asked sitting down across from them. Elke sat to his right, while Angelina and Inga stood behind them.

“They are here about Athena,” said Elke

“Oh yes. Well, no surprises there. She was a troubled girl, I’m afraid.”

“What was your relationship with Miss Kesting?” asked Andrews.

“We were engaged. My wives thought that she might fit in with us here, so she moved in for a trial period. I’m afraid it was not to be though. She left, what has it been now? Six months ago.”

“Do you have a forwarding address?”

“Inga will find that for you. May I ask why you are looking for her?”

“I’m afraid we can’t say. It involves an ongoing investigation.”

“I see. Well, it’s no stretch of the imagination that it involves Athena’s strong feelings. She was brought up in a very religious community in Idaho.”

“They were very strict adherents to morality and believers in a patriarchal lifestyle,” said Elke. “That’s why we thought she might fit in here.”

“And you are all adherents to a patriarchal lifestyle?” asked Loginova.

“Not really,” replied Elke. “We’re more of a pragmatic family. We just thought that having grown up that way, Athena would fit in. It just didn’t work out. She was far too inflexible.”

“She thought that everyone had to believe the way she did,” added Angelina.

Andrews felt rather than saw Loginova cast a glance in his direction.

“Would you ladies mind if I spoke to Agent Andrews alone in my study?” asked Larkin.

Not waiting for a reply, he stood up and started for a door in the back of the room. He turned to see that Andrews was following him, and said. “Inga will get that forwarding address for you, Agent Loginova.”

The study was a spacious room with large windows looking out over a huge swimming pool and beautiful lawn behind the house. There was a large cherry wood desk near the back of the room and shelves filled with books along the wall.

“Would you like a drink?” asked Larkin.

“No, thank you.”

“Have you had a drink yet?”

Andrews grunted noncommittally.

“I was off the enclave for over a year before I took a drink. When was the last time you were there?”

The Voyage of the Minotaur – Chapter 10 Excerpt

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“Kafira’s fanny. You look like crap,” she said.

He grabbed a towel and threw it around his waist and then stepped over to look in the hanging mirror on the cabin wall. He did look like crap. He looked thin and pale and weak. His cheeks were sunken and his face was pasty white. Most grim of all were his eyes. The whites of his eyes no longer deserved of that name. They were beyond bloodshot. The blood vessels had completely ruptured and every bit of surface outside of his irises was solid, uninterrupted red. He felt unsteady. His knees wobbled slightly.

“What day is it?”

“It’s exactly one week since anyone on the ship has seen you. That’s what day it is. Have you eaten anything in the last week? Have you had a drink, and I mean of water?”

Terrence looked over at the nightstand—at the pitcher of water, now empty, and drinking glass, now lying on its side.

“I had some water…earlier. Yesterday, I think.”

“Bloody hell, Terrence. I can’t believe you’re doing this again.”

“On a first name basis now, are we?” he asked.

“Don’t give me that crap. Who took care of you last time?”

“You’re not my sister.”

“No,” she agreed. “And you’re not your sister either, so shut the hell up. Get some clothes on. I’m going to get some water.”

Yuah picked up both the pitcher that had held drinking water, and the pitcher that matched the wash basin in the corner of the room and left the cabin. Terrence quickly moved the tiny blue bottle to the ammunition pouch of his pistol belt. The dressing maid returned after a few minutes with both pitchers full of water. She took the first and filled the glass from the nightstand, handing it to Terrence. The second pitcher she poured into the matching washbasin on its stand. Then she left once again. Terrence drank the water in the glass and then washed his face. Yuah entered again, this time with a plate containing a crumpet with jam and a glass of milk, both of which she handed to him.

Terrence sat down and ate, though this made his stomach a bit upset. Yuah stood over him and watched as he downed every single bite. Then she pulled a small brown bottle from her pocket.

“Lie on your back,” she ordered. “I nicked this from your sister.”

She pulled the stopper from the bottle and poured a little bit of the liquid within into his right eye.

“Owe, dammit! Are you trying to blind me?”

“Shut up. This is a healing draught,” she said, pouring more into his other eye. “You’ve got a lot of nerve, asking if I’m trying to blind you, when you’re rubbing that crap into your eyeballs.”

“What do you know about it?”

“I know it all,” she said. “Go ahead. Ask me anything. White Opthalium. Visio. See Spice. Made from rare enchanted lotus blossoms and blue fungus from Southern Enclep, whipped together with a little bit of witch-doctor magic. All designed to take you away from your problems in the real world.”

“How do you know all that?” Terrence sat up.

“I did my research a long time ago. Someone had to take care of you, you know.”

“Yes. I remember. So why did you take care of me… then, I mean?”

“I had quite a big crush on you then, not that you ever noticed.”

“Why would I notice? You were a skinny little kid.”

“Yes, well…”

“So why are you helping me now?” he asked. “Do you still have a crush on me?”

“Don’t you wish? You’re important to this expedition. Whether you believe it or not, your sister needs you.”

“Are you going to tell her about this?”

“Are you kidding me?” asked Yuah. “She would be right pissed if she found out about this. Not to mention, half the colonists would want to pack it in if they found out you were off your trolley.”

“You think I’m mad, then?”

“Yes, I do,” she said.

They sat in silence for a moment.

“It doesn’t matter anyway,” he said. “I’m all out. I didn’t even realize we had left port. I was planning to go back and get more at the marketplace.”

“That’s for the best then. Your sister wants to see you. She was trying to find you this morning and couldn’t. When I went to get her healing draught, I told her you had food poisoning, and wouldn’t be about for a few hours.”

“Thanks,” said Terrence.

“Come over to her cabin and I’ll draw you a bath. You need it. Then you can shave and have something more to eat and whatever else.”

“What about Iolanthe?”

“She was just leaving to go up to the observation deck and meet Lieutenant Staff. I doubt she’ll be down for hours. I think she’s going soft for him.”

“Iolanthe? Don’t be stupid. She’ll never go soft for anyone.”

Tesla’s Stepdaughters – Chapter 5 Excerpt

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The lobby of the Grace Coolidge international building, though Spartan, was large and it took a minute for Andrews to find his appointment waiting by feet of the statue of Justice. He almost didn’t recognize Ep!phanee. She was dressed in faded jeans and a Nehi Blue Cream Soda tee shirt. Her hair was tucked up under a black military cap.

“Is somebody here with you?” he asked.

“Nope. I ditched the cops back at the hotel. Buy me a hotdog.”

“You shouldn’t be running around town without an escort.”

“Well I have one now. Besides, I just want a hotdog. There’s a hotdog cart just down on the corner. I saw it on the cab ride over here.”

She took him by the arm and led him to the glass enclosed front of the building, holding the door open for him. The hotdog vendor was stationed just where she had described, a chubby little woman with a striped shirt, a large stain covering most of the front.

“Two dogs,” Ep!phanee ordered, then turned to Andrews. “What do you want on yours?”

“I don’t know; whatever’s customary.”

“Haven’t you ever had a hotdog before?”

He shook his head. “German food’s not very popular in the enclaves.”

“Hotdogs are as American as apple pie. Alright. Bacon, beans, avocado, catsup, and mayonnaise. Do you want jalapenos?”

“Yes please.”

“So you don’t have street food in the enclaves?”

“Sure. Tacos– usually fish tacos, but sometimes grilled shrimp.”

The vendor handed her the hotdogs already loaded with beans and avocado. Stepping to the end of the cart, she scooped on the jalapenos and then squirted on squiggly lines of red catsup and white mayonnaise. Handing one of the dogs to Andrews, she watched as he took a tentative bite. She then opened her mouth wide and shoved in about a third of hers.

“Good huh?” she asked, her mouth full.

He nodded and then took another bite. Ep!phanee began strolling down the sidewalk and even though she was moving slowly Andrews had to take a few quick steps to keep up. He was still eating his hotdog as they walked, being careful not to spill the condiments on his jacket. She finished first and dropped the little paper hotdog caddie in a trashcan beside the street.

“I should get you back to the hotel.”

“I’m staying in this hotel now.”

Andrews looked skyward to find that they were in front of the Palmer House. When he looked back down, Ep!phanee was already going through the revolving door. He stuffed the last bit of hotdog into his mouth and dropped the paper waste in a can beside the door, following her. The lobby was huge, with a tiled vaulted ceiling that looked like it belonged in a cathedral. Andrews felt self-conscious even walking on the rugs.

“Why are you staying here now?”

“We have two more days in Chicago. I’ll go crazy if I’m cooped up with the girls the whole time.”

“You have two entire suites at the American. And it’s under complete police protection.”

“I’ve got my own suite here.” She twirled around a few times but kept on course for the elevator. “It’s the same one Ulysses S. Grant stayed in. He used to be on money, you know.”

She skipped into the elevator and he followed. An attendant, a small woman in a tight red uniform, was waiting inside.

“Twenty fifth floor,” said Ep!phanee.

The attendant nodded, and then turned the lever sending the car gliding swiftly upwards.

“Ulysses S. Grant died in 1885,” said Andrews. “There weren’t any twenty five story buildings in Chicago then.”

“I think I feel his presence though.”

The Voyage of the Mintoaur – Chapter 9 Excerpt

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“I don’t feel good,” said Senta.

“Too much wine?” asked Mrs. Marjoram, pointedly.

“I think I’m going to overflow.”

“Not in here,” said Miss Dechantagne, sternly.

“Why don’t you go up on deck and get some air, Pet,” said Zurfina.

Senta got up from her chair and found that her legs were decidedly wobbly, her Vision was wiggly, and the two helpings of trifle in her stomach were not getting along with the toad-in-the-hole. She started for the door, but found her feet making an inexplicable turn toward the wall. One of the waiters took her by the shoulders and guided her back on track, opened the door for her, and closed it once she was in the outside corridor. It was a short trip from Miss Dechantagne’s cabin to the main deck, which was a good thing; because Senta didn’t think she could have made it much further. She grabbed hold of the railing and walked twenty or thirty steps until she came to the steel dragon, still in his animal carrier box. She sat down on top of it, and scooted down so that she could lie back across it. She closed her eyes on the bright myriad of stars looking down upon her.

She didn’t know how long she lay there, but eventually she had the feeling that someone else was there with her. She opened her eyes to see a pasty-faced man with a very round face and horn rimmed glasses looking down at her. His hair was slicked down and oily looking and he had a pinched expression on his face that made his mouth look unnaturally small. She looked at him for several moments and he looked back and blinked several times.

“Hello,” said Senta.

“Hello,” he replied. “Are you all right?”

“I don’t know.”

The man smiled without showing his teeth. His smile reached from his chin to the middle of his nose. His eyes, magnified by glasses, stayed the same. He had no facial hair or sideburns, but he had several small cuts on his face as if he had injured himself while shaving. His suit was charcoal colored, and slightly shabby; something that Senta wouldn’t have noticed a few weeks before.

“Do you want to try getting up?” he asked.

“Alright.”

Senta sat up and immediately threw up at the man’s feet. Most of the vomit splattered across the wooden deck, though a bit of it ended up on his shoes and pants cuffs.

“Gawp,” said the dragon within his carrier.

The man’s mouth twitched to one side, but all he said was, “Feeling better?”

Senta nodded.

“Good,” he said. “We should get you somewhere where you can get washed up. Do you know how to get to your cabin from here?”

“No.”

“Then, I’ll take you to my cabin.”

“Um, I don’t know.”

“You wouldn’t want anyone to see you with vomit all over your shoes, would you?”

Senta looked down and, sure enough, she had gotten vomit on her own shoes too. The man took her by the hand and pulled her to her feet. She was still pretty wobbly. He began to walk slowly along the deck, pulling her along with him.

“Gawp,” said the dragon, louder.

They went in the doorway just behind the one through which Senta had exited, and walked down the corridor. Senta started to feel a little better. At the end of the hallway, a set of narrow steps led down to the lower deck. Senta didn’t really want to go down, but the pasty-faced man had her hand firmly in his.

“Senta!”

Senta and the man both turned to see Miss Lusk walking down the hallway toward them. Though she was the shortest of the women that had been at the dinner party that evening, Miss Lusk was almost the exact same height as the oily-haired man. Her hat, which was a large straw affair covered in pink chiffon with a flower accent, made her seem a bit taller than him.

“Where are you going, Senta?” asked Miss Lusk.

“We were just going to get her cleaned up,” said the man. “The poor thing got sick on deck and lost her dinner.”

“Good evening, Mr. Murty,”

“Good evening, Miss Lusk.”

“It was very kind of you to help out with a sick child.”

“Oh, it was nothing,” he replied. They stood looking at each other for a very long moment. Senta looked from one to the other.

“Well, we’ll go on and get the child cleaned up,” said Mr. Murty.

“I think I should take it from here.”

“Oh?”

“I’m sure it wouldn’t be appropriate for you to take the child below.”

“Wouldn’t be appropriate?” he asked. “Why not?”

“Taking care of children isn’t a man’s job.” Miss Lusk took Senta’s other hand and pulled until the child had both arms stretched out in either direction.

“I really don’t mind. I love children,” said Mr. Murty.

“You’ll make quite a father one day, I’m sure.”

“Let me take her.”

“I’ll take care of her,” said Miss Lusk. “I am a woman.”

“Yes, I keep forgetting,” said Mr. Murty, letting go of Senta’s hand. “Um, what with your, um, mathematics skills and all.”

“Good night, Mr. Murty!” Miss Lusk hurried down the hall with the girl in tow.

Miss Lusk led Senta forward and then down a different set of narrow stairs. They went quickly down three flights and then up the corridor a short ways to a door, which Miss Lusk unlocked and entered, pulling the girl in after her. It was a small room, only half the size of that in which Senta and Zurfina stayed. It held a single chair and a single bed. The red-headed woman set Senta on the mattress and had her lie back.

“Didn’t your mother tell you not to talk to strangers?” she asked.

“No.”

“Well, she should have. Somebody should have.” Miss Lusk bit her lip. “You are an orphan, aren’t you?”

Senta nodded.

“Zurfina should be watching out for you. And stay away from Mr. Murty. Do you understand? Mr. Murty is not a good man.”

Tesla’s Stepdaughters – Chapter 4 Excerpt

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The drum beat continued and the all three took their places to begin Under the Heel. That’s when Andrews saw it. There was a flash of light high up in the rafters above the audience. It wasn’t the flash of a camera bulb, but of reflective light bouncing off a pane of glass—like the end lens of binoculars, or of a rifle scope.

Ducking around the back curtain and running through the cluttered backstage, he found scaffolding with a metal ladder at one end. Grabbing hold of a rung, he pulled himself upwards. By the time he was twenty feet above the ground, the scaffolding began to sway dangerously with every step, and he still had more than fifty feet to go. When he reached the top he was sure the swaying structure would go crashing to the ground at any second, but he was able to clamber off of it and onto the catwalk that ran the length of the stadium.

The stadium lights were out. All spots were on the performing band. Even if they hadn’t been, Andrews probably wouldn’t have been able to see anything. The catwalk ran above the lighting tracks, and the centermost section, where he had seen the flash, was a long way off. He ducked lower and grabbed the rail, but he didn’t have the luxury of watching from where he was, or even of taking it slow. Hunched over, he ran the length of the clattering, swaying metal walkway. The Ladybugs were playing the last chords of Artificial Man when he saw a human figure, not on the catwalk he was on, but one which intersected it. He stood up and ran faster.

When the song ended the screaming applause continued but it, unlike the music, was not amplified up near the ceiling. Andrews stood up straight, but didn’t slow down. As he ran, he pulled the pistol from his shoulder holster. As he flipped on the power, it began to whine as the solenoid charged.

“Hold it!” he yelled.

The person turned, saw him, and ran, the catwalk taking away her at a diagonal. Andrews stopped and took aim, but didn’t fire. There was something in the shadowy figure’s hand, but he wasn’t sure it was a weapon. He raced forward to where the two catwalks intersected, then turned and followed the other’s path. By that time, whoever he was following was a tiny figure half lost in the darkness. Andrews ran on, even when he could no longer see the person he was pursuing, secure in the knowledge that they had to be on the catwalk. But then he reached the end of the building to find a short ladder leading to a roof access door. Climbing up the stairs, he put his left hand on the hatch, his right still holding his gun. He quickly opened the door and stepped out onto the roof.

The moon, fully obscured by smoky clouds, did little to aid him, but Andrews carefully made the circuit around the rooftop, stepping around air conditioning units and other equipment. Suddenly a figure in black jumped up right in front of him.

“Freeze!”

“Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot!”

“Hands in the air!”

Tesla’s Stepdaughters – Chapter 3 Excerpt

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“Thanks for seeing me,” he said.

“You’re kidding, right? Before yesterday I’d never seen a man in real life before. This is really a treat for me… you know, besides somebody trying to kill me and all.”

“So you think you are the target?”

She shrugged. “Steffie’s probably right. A lot of people were pissed off when Carpetmuncher hit the air. That’s the name of the song, um… no offense.”

“I think it’s a great song,” he said.

“You’ve heard it?”

“I bought the album the day it came out.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah. I’m a huge Ladybugs fan, and that includes your solo albums. I remember watching you on the Dorothy Kilgallen Show, and I had to present my PhD thesis the next day. So you see; it’s at even bigger treat for me to be assigned here with you.” He watched her for a moment, and then asked. “I’ve been north for two years now, but I still don’t really understand the anti-homosexual attitude. There are plenty of women running around dressed as men, my partner for instance, with her little fake mustache. It all seems pretty open.”

“Not really. We’re still very parochial. Even though men have been gone from most of society for years, there is the tradition around the world of women not going out unescorted by a man. So women like Agent Wright and Alexa Rothman, faux-men, are tolerated and even encouraged. With no men to escort women, someone just had to take their place. Sex in some ways is really just an extension of that, but nobody talks about it. Women pretend that faux-men are men and for the most part, treat them that way. Women who openly have sexual relationships with other women, or at least with other women who look like women, are ostracized.”

“That’s the other thing that surprises me,” said Andrews. “How women look. Without many men around, I expected to see relatively few women putting on makeup, but you all do… except those pretending to be men.”

“I imagine that most men and women were surprised to find out how little women dressed up for men and how much they dressed up for each other. It’s all about outdoing each other. That includes painting our faces, and jewelry.”

“Yes, I knew women pierced their ears, but I wasn’t expecting everything else.”

“Maybe sometime I’ll show you all my jewelry.”

This seemed as though it was meant to be suggestive, but Andrews couldn’t find anything particularly arousing in looking through a jewelry box.