The Kraken Gate

Nighttime shattered and window frames rattled as a deafening, monstrous roar washed over the city. My first thought, as I leapt out of bed, was that the peace accord with the Nallians had broken down and their airships were ranging unopposed in the skies over Emberly, dropping bombs. My second thought, as I raised the sash and looked out over the rooftops towards the roiling purple-orange mushroom cloud that rose like an oily stain above Rostov Park, was that I had successfully obliterated my place of work. Shock set in. My extremities went cold as I dressed. My numb fingers struggled to button my blouse. In spite of my trembling hands, I managed to pull on my standard issue army surplus slacks and wrestled my straw-coloured hair into a ponytail. Downstairs I fumbled with the laces on my boots, then straightened up and looked in the mirror. I tried to persuade myself that I looked like a woman in control. My bone-white face, coupled with the mad wisps that had escaped the ...

Cold, limestone gargoyles leered down at us from the shadowy roofline of Director Harman’s mansion. Silver Meniah-light picked out their horns, sabre-teeth, and other grotesque features against the infinite black of a cloudless night sky. Yellow lamp-light spilled from the mansion’s large sash windows across the lawn, but seemed to shrivel when it met the hulking gradala shrubs that guarded its perimeter. ‘I imagine Harman’s not happy,’ I said needlessly, as we waited for someone to answer the door. Ankush shrugged. ‘The failsafe did what it was supposed to.’ ‘And some!’ ‘Are you concerned?’ ‘Me, concerned?’ my voice sounded forced. I wished that the future of Lockhouse Security was not so completely entwined with the success of this contract. ‘What happened can not un-happen,’ said Ankush.   ‘“Leave the worrying to the dogs”, eh?’ Ankush’s mouth quirked upwards, the hint of a smile at the Gulreimian saying. His people don’t lose much sleep over things they c...

‘Yes, Ms. Derringer. There is a second facility, although it has never been activated. It has been prepared and kept in waiting for just such an event.’ Director Harman held out a hand to his niece. She took it. ‘Jenniver will be heading there with Professor Maddison and the remaining team in three days’ time. It’s not far from the town of Lannerville in the Forest of Yesper. It’s time to bring it online.’ ‘You knew this was going to happen.’ I glanced at Ankush. He tipped his head slightly to one side, the closest thing to a gesture of surprise he was capable of. No wonder the enterprise had cost so much money. Director Harman shrugged. ‘Sabotage by Nallian spies, a fire caused by sparks, the Koulomb-field dynamos jumping their spindles…an endeavour of this magnitude entails many such risks. There was also the possibility we might need more than one gate open at a time. Emberland stands at a disadvantage to the Nallians and the Koulomb Gate offers us a real chance to re...

I would have laughed. Should have really, but I needed the money. Opportunities for women in security work were not abundant. Potential employers felt that women were more likely to welcome an uninvited guest in when in fact the reverse was true. The sane women I knew would rather shoot first and ask questions later rather than let a stranger into their lives. It was my turn to get up. I walked up to the painting of the galleon, giving me time to compose myself. I wanted to avoid sounding hysterical; it’s so unprofessional. ‘Let me see if I understand the proposal…I’m to organise a small team of people to return to the site of an attack by homicidal aliens on an uncharted world, with a handful of non-metallic, prehistoric weapons, a site - I might add - that is almost certainly no more than a crater two-hundred hands wide. Is that it?’ Alright, so maybe that came across as hysterical, but then I feel quite strongly about suicide missions.   Harman smoothed down the penci...

‘It sounded like a gunshot, Ankush.’ I cautiously lifted the kerchief away from my forehead. Ankush nodded at me; the cut had stopped bleeding. We were sitting at a long wooden table in Diadem Inn. The inn stood in a row of small, timbered buildings from the time of Orwall the First that hugged the eastern edge of Tellemarch Park. Above them strode the giant skeletal framework of girders, struts and rivets that was the air-train track, the transportation we’d be taking to Director Harman’s Lannerville estate in three days time. Behind the inn, the twin cathedrals of Draxil and Aripole towered, rising even above the iron-work of the air-train. Draxil’s spire was resplendent in gold-leaf, Aripole’s tapering cupola was a warm, lacquered copper. The inn itself was noisy with the good-natured roar of off-duty soldiers, and the air was thick with tobacco smoke. ‘Maybe someone dropped something,’ Ankush offered. I made a face. ‘Maybe.’ Ankush Malek’s older brother, Mahkran ...

The gold and copper spires of the cathedrals of Draxil and Aripole dulled as the vast, ash-coloured carapace slid relentlessly overhead. A woman dropped her bag. An old man’s legs folded under him. A man screamed, ‘The Nallians! The Nallians are attacking!’ We knew of airships, and most had seen the Council’s dirigible above Emberly, but that machine was miniscule. Had it been alongside this one, it would have looked like a minnow swimming in the wake of a leviathan. The engine nacelles, each the size of a crofter’s cottage, wore armoured baffles; this and the gunnery blisters marked it as a man-o-war. Only the Nallians had the technology to build airships like this one. I had read that this dreadnaught class was capable of carrying a thousand pounds of bombs, or deliver a strike force of two-hundred men into the heart of Emberland. The ship kept coming, droning ever onwards. It was heading straight for Vanover Hall, Emberland’s parliament. Its gondola passed above us ...

That evening, my tasks complete, I found myself being let into Harman’s residence once again. He’d asked me to check in with him every evening while I was still in Emberly. He had also instructed me to remain in touch via heliograph after I arrived in Lannerville. I suddenly felt exhausted. I’d been awake since three bells that morning, and the day’s work had been demanding. Obermann showed me into the old man’s study. Harman did not look at-ease. I guessed that the morning’s explosion had caused some difficulties for him, difficulties personified by Emberland’s First Chancellor of the Council who was standing by Director Harman’s desk. He was looking less composed than earlier. His brow was beaded with sweat and the brown, three-piece suit he’d had on in the morning was now looking decidedly creased. The destruction of Winslow Hall had obviously resulted in a busy day for him too. My sympathy for him was nonexistent; after all, this was the man who had the power to pardon...

‘Hello Connie.’ Benjamin put his hands in his trouser pockets, at-ease now that we were on our own. He always managed to look so infuriatingly relaxed. ‘You can address me as Ms. Derringer, Lieutenant Scott or I’ll reacquaint my knee with your soft parts! You lost the right to first-name terms when you had me court-martialed.’ Lieutenant Scott held up his hands. ‘Very well, Ms. Derringer.’ His smile slipped a little. ‘I’ve heard and read a lot of good things about your company, Lockhouse Security. That’s it, isn’t it? You seem to be doing pretty well for yourself.’ ‘Oh, please! Don’t tell me you want to take the credit for that!’ ‘No, Connie.’ The smile was gone, replaced with a look of the injured party. It was a mixture of big eyes, hurt and vacuous inquiry. I felt a familiar warm lurch in the pit of my stomach, followed by shame, and then rage at my own weakness. ‘Why you?’ I asked, unable to keep the bitterness from my voice. ‘For this mission?’ ‘Yes. There...