A Feasibility Study
Steve Crow
Mitobu looked around the Hunter's Moon with a mixture of pride and scorn. Pride, since it was
yet another strike that was going to fall into the Maze Rats' hands due to the efforts of himself
and Longfellow. Scorn, because the Collegium had foolishly left the area unattended.
The Typhoon's harpoonist could hear the
sounds of the Collegium's "automatons" working
away, echoing up the mine shaft. More ghost rock for us, indeed it is! Mitobu thought to
himself. He would send up the flare signaling Captain Sim to arrive in the Typhoon and they
could take the ghost rock currently mined and ready for pick-up, then leave off a skeleton crew to
guard the deed.
At the sound of footsteps, Mitobu spun, his harpoon at the ready. Longfellow should be
returning back, but Mitobu took no chances. His present weapon was nothing compared to the
gun model, his pride and joy, that he had on the Typhoon. But it was an impressive weapon
nonetheless, and deadly as a pistol in his hands.
It wasn't Longfellow who approached however, but an attractive woman. Her hair was black as
a night, and she wore some kind of one-piece fur garment. She had stepped out from behind rock
cover but now merely stood there, quietly.
Mitobu frowned. Whoever the woman was, she was no Collegium scientist. Nor was she a
miner. The Typhoon crew had avoided Gomorra proper, since some of the residents bore the
Rats a grudge for the occasional strike that was "misplaced." So Mitobu didn't know if she was
a town woman.
The harpoonist spared a moment's distraction to glance behind him. Nothing, but the edge of the
clear area in front of the strike entrance, dropping off into the waters of the Maze. The woman
was no distraction for an ambush from that quarter.
The woman still had not spoken. Mitobu kept his harpoon ready for a cast or a stab, but admitted
to himself that there seemed to be little danger. Perhaps she was some prostitute or camp
follower. The automatons the Collegium used for mining would have no use for her, but perhaps
some scientist had taken a fancy to her and then left her stranded there. Or maybe she was some
drifter, looking to steal some ghost rock.
"So missy, what is it you be wanting?" Mitobu asked.
The woman merely licked her lips. Whether nervously or lustily, the pirate couldn't tell.
"The Maze, it be a dangerous place. Maze dragons, stone men, pit wasps...you be lookin' for
protection if you plan on stayin' here. Or you want that maybe Mitobu should take you under his
wing, maybe?"
The woman still said nothing. Mitobu was starting to grow irritated. And where was
Longfellow? He should be back by now. Had the woman attacked him? It was daylight, so she
was no vampire that Mitobu had ever heard of. But as his old friend Hieronymous Grost had
once told him, there are as many vampires as there are beasts of prey. Maybe this was some kind
of daytime variety?
Before Mitobu could consider further, the woman reached behind the rock she had stepped from,
and pulled forth a long metal piece of pipe. One end had a curious ball-shaped device at one end.
"What da...?"
Even as Mitobu was bringing back his arm
for a throw, the woman pointed the pipe at him and
worked some kind of trigger-like mechanism where the pipe joined the ball. A cylindrical
projectile shot out, slamming into the rock in front of the pirate.
Desperate, Mitobu threw himself backwards just as the stick of dynamite exploded. As he fell
backwards toward the waters below, his last sight was of the hail of rock thundering down
toward him.
Up above, the woman remained stock still even
after she heard the splash of the Maze Rat and
several hundred pounds of debris hit the water. For a few seconds, silence embraced the
Hunter's Moon strike. Then a pale-skinned figure of a man, dressed in black, stepped out to join
her.
"Very good, Kara, very good," he said, stroking her cheek with one hand. The woman remained
motionless, but her face creased with a smile at the caress.
"Did it work, Gunther?" a voice rang out.
Gunther Hapworth turned at the sound. The figure who approached was a tall, thin stick of a
man, dressed in the best of European clothing topped with a stovepipe hat that added another foot
to his already considerable height.
"Perfectly, Herr Klippstein. Others of our organization may decry my chemical potions as
beneath their notice, but this will prove them as well. As for Mr. Longfellow...?" Hapworth
nodded toward the syringe in Klippstein's hand.
"Out like a Collegium light bulb, my friend."
Klippstein tossed aside the used-up syringe. "Hiz
protege, Miss Daniels, haz a number of devicez whose location remains unknown. Hopefully he
can be persuaded to tell us ov zem."
The German scientist than eyed the woman warily. "And ov her? You are sure she remainz
beneath your alchemical zpell?"
"Entirely, Gerald. Thanks to my biochemical additives, not only does her unfortunate
lycanthropic condition remain in remission, but her mind is...'susceptible' to outside influences.
No doubt some villain would take advantage of her, but I find a particular irony in putting her
combat abilities to the service of humanity. "
"Az represented by the Collegium, ov course."
"Of course. As a feasibility study, this test
is an unqualified success," Gunther chuckled. Then
he glanced up, as a shadow blotted out the sun. "And that would be Fineas, right on schedule to
pick up the ghost rock. It's served its purpose as bait: now we shall put it to use in its true role,
as fuel for our advances.
Klippstein nodded. "I must conzede, our zupplies have been running low. You vould not believe
how ze Grossvagon gulps down ze fuel."
"This should put a dent in the Maze Rats operations. But remember our agreement. No word of
this to Oswald."
"Az you vish. Although I still do not understand why."
"Everything we do, my friend, we do for the Collegium," Gunther declared virtuously. "Which
means we benefit Oswald. But in this manner, he can maintain deniability if something
goes...amiss. While he must deal with the Gomorra Town Council, we can remain independent
of political concerns while pursuing our agenda."
"Az you say, mein friend."
And one such as Kara, under my exclusive control, can prove a formidable weapon against
enemies both within and without, Gunther thought to himself as he guided his enthralled subject
toward the Grosswagon. But Gerald need not know that...yet.
© Stephen Crow, 1999