The Hunt is On- to Catch a Shade

Fallen London
141

Evensong and Dirae Erinyes make their appearance. Evensong makes a straight beeline for the coffee, while Dirae Erinyes settles into one of the few chairs left.

“Elemental of dawn, not sure what that is, but it could be useful if it’s anything like sunlight.” Their voice is a bit rough, as it the calibration on the voice box got knocked a bit loose. “We are going to need a trap for that thing - not feeling like running up and trying to get into fistcuffs with it again and I don’t like the idea of just walking off and letting it follow me home. So, we need to lure into a vacent area and drop a sunlight bomb on it. I’m sure Gideon can build a sunlight bomb. The question will how to protect yourselves. Maybe, reflective armor?”
Evensong returns with two cups of what might be coffee and perches on Dirae Erinyes lap.
“Or we could leave that whole idea behind, and just borrow the devils, what did they call. . .vacuum cleaner? That thing,” Evensong suggested, not looking enthused as the idea of sunlight.

142

Good, good. Sunlight? That’s not a bad idea. However, that’s not what I need them to decide. Hmm… Let’s see…

Noah’s face contorts into a sneer as he snorts at the pair’s suggestions. &quotYes, and I suppose we will get him to stay still by asking nicely and offering a cup of tea?&quot

His gaze stays dead ahead, somewhere above the table and those seated at it. &quotI applaud you for abandoning the idea of us mere mortals engaging the beast in combat, and Mr Stormstrider will undoubtedly be pivotal in whatever plan we come up with, but the Shade is not an idiot and it is not an inanimate object. It is smart enough to suspect unfavourable circumstances when it finds us waiting as walking houses of mirrors, or dragging behind us something the size of a carriage. It will see that we are up to something, and either flee or worse yet, gut us all as we’re trying to get the contraption working.&quot

He lets out a sigh. &quotCould we leave the big picture of the strategy to those of us with some manner of experience? Sergeant, how would a military man approach such an operation, if I may ask?&quot

She’s there, she’s right there, one of you will suggest it… Come on…

143

How would a military man approach this? He would employ a group of competent, disciplined men and not a bunch of suicidal wannabes for a start. Then he would find the beast’s lair and have them shell it until both the beast and the lair are no more. Hopefully, that would suffice.

Lyndon snorts. He figured he would get dragged in that particular argument, although he has no desire to speak of the matter at the moment. It isn’t a problem that can be solved easily. That group is mostly made of foolish amateurs who share an obvious death wish. Not the kind of people he can make a sensible use of.

He won’t deny that some of them have useful talents. Their host seems to have a knack for engineering and explosives, which is always a good thing. The cat-lady seems good enough at just whatever she puts her mind to. The mechanical man is a force to be reckoned with. Orosenn’s way of fighting is effective, albeit unorthodox. The glowing woman has… hidden talents, apparently. Maybe a few others are still hiding their true worth.

Unfortunately, their utter lack of discipline and strategy makes their combined efforts much inferior than the sum of the parts. What they really need to do is to weed out the weak links, and make the rest of the chain more cohesive in the process. Hopefully, time and losses will do that for them. It isn’t an ideal solution. B____y h__l, it isn’t even an acceptable one, considering the stakes. But he’ll have to make do with what he has, as he often does.

Despite what the blind doctor says, thinking like soldiers won’t help them, because most of them aren’t soldiers to begin with. They will have to think outside of the box to have a chance at destroying this creature. Luckily, Lyndon’s own understanding of military matters never was a very orthodox one.

The Sergeant takes a step towards the table and leans on the backrest of the kid’s chair. She’s still upset because of his earlier scolding, and she makes a point not look his way. He’d rather not speak of business in front of her, but it can’t be helped this time.

“Well, if you really want to know what I think, Doc, I’ll tell you. I said it before, and I will repeat it now: we’re thinking we’re the hunters, but we’re not. Right now, we are the preys. Our enemy is hiding from us, and it seems capable of striking us anywhere at any given time. For what we know, it’s nowhere and it’s everywhere.

“From my perspective, we need two things to stand a chance against it: a suitable bait to lure it where we want, and a secure way to dispose of it. Both these things aren’t easy to come by, especially the latter one.

“Since the conventional means of destruction seem to have failed us, we should use everything we have to destroy our enemy. The Element of Dawn may be powerful enough to end the creature, but it might as well destroy us in the process. The Cantigaster Venom would be a marginally safer option, but we should find someone strong enough to land a hit on the creature and crazy enough to ignore the risks. I think nobody here fits that description. Both these options are viable, in a sense, but neither of them is optimal. Ideally, we should use a controlled source of enormous destructive power, but I think our host might be more helpful than me in that respect.”

Lyndon stops for a moment and his gaze stops on the glowing woman. There is another solution he can think of, but he’s not so stupid to suggest a suicide attack to a monster that is sitting just a few steps away from him. The odds of being devoured on the spot are too high. Someone less wise than him will come up with that idea, hopefully.

“As for the bait, I think we all know that the creature is actually interested in only one of us.” The Sergeant gives Dynamo a meaningful glare. “We should make use of that knowledge.”
edited by Bertrand Lyndon on 3/30/2017

144

&quotHm, and we could make multiple copies of the bait as is, if we need to lure the Shade into our trap. Does the Shade only know you by your face or by something more? How much does that cider heal?&quot Evensong watches Drake’s face, hands steepled. &quotGranted, before we start planning our bait, we need to know our trap works. We can’t risk our lives on another harebrained scheme.&quot

145

&quotYou really think bait is the best chance we’ve got?&quot The Scorched Sailor leaves his patch of wall and seats himself at an empty chair. Apparently a few too many people, having clocked that there weren’t enough seats for them all, had found alternative seating arrangements, leaving one uncomfortable-loking high-backed chair empty. &quotSounds like suicide to me.&quot Most of the futile bandages have fallen away from the clay arm by now, and the Sailor leaves it, palm down, outstretched, as a reminder. &quotNow, I’m not entirely caught up, but seems to me that the only reason yer all alive right now is some lucky intervention by Phryne over here.&quot

He looks around, serious. &quotIf someone acts as bait, there’s a very real chance they ain’t comin’ back again. Blasted creature is ungodly fast, and swings that blade like it’s a part o’ his arm.&quot An idea niggles at the corner of his mind, which he files away for consideration later. He considers Lyndon, then Evensong, then Drake. &quotAnd usin’ Drake here as bait? We have no idea of the Shade’s agenda. Blood and cider and earth and shadow. Who’s to say givin’ it Drake - even for a second - isn’t what it wants? Blood o’ the Father, as it were.&quot

He sits back, shrugging. &quotMy tactical know-how ain’t worth much off a ship, but it’s worth consid’rin.&quot I joined this blasted hunt to keep an old friend safe, and by Storm I’ll not happily see my friends purposely put in the jaws of death.
edited by Barselaar on 3/31/2017

146

And here’s someone who’d like to build a house without nails and wood. What’s he even worried about? Dynamo is immortal, isn’t he? He can take a beating or two.

Lyndon is about to give the sailor a piece of his mind, but he stops as soon as his gaze falls on the kid sitting next to him. He knows he’d get an earful for ‘being mean to her friend’. That’s something he’d rather not go through. He’ll have to swallow that bitter pill and avoid being too spiteful.

Stupid kid and her stupid opinions.

The Sergeant shrugs. “It’s fine if you don’t agree with my methods, Captain, but I’ll have to assume you have a better, safer plan. I’m sure you and your friend there don’t want to drag us on another fool’s errand around London, do you?” Lyndon looks at the bare clay arm and sneers. “It didn’t end well for you the first time.

“The problem at hand remains. We cannot continue to let the creature make the rules of this game, so we need a sure way to bring it where we want it to be. Or at least a method to predict its movements reliably. If our employer doesn’t wish to take some risks, then we’ll have to find something else the Shade might want. Of course, you people know this thing better than I do, so I’m sure you’ll come up with some clever plan to save the day.”

Lyndon leaves the table to rest against a nearby wall. He lights himself a cigarette and waits for further developments. He doesn’t really care if the others have a plan or not: they clearly aren’t ready to make the necessary sacrifices to win that battle, so whatever they’ll come up with will most likely fail. And if it does succeed, he’ll get paid anyway.

I’ll just make sure to have a meat shield handy should harm come my way.
edited by Bertrand Lyndon on 4/1/2017

147

&quotAs for discovering more about the Shade, maybe some of us could infiltrate his army of hobos. They are the closest thing we are have to confidants of the Shade. Maybe at least we could learn where he lives.&quot Dirae Erinyes is roused out of their contemplation. &quotI know of a trap once we get bait. The thing is devlishly hard to hit, so we will use something that is hard to dodge - something fired out of a cannon! It’s devilishy hard to injure, so we will fill it with honey. Once he’s honey mazed, he should be a lot easier to deal with.&quot Evensong struggles to keep her serious composure.

148

Noah starts walking towards the corner with the coffee machine. “Little miss, could you help me to a cup? It sounded like you were awfully handy with the contraption.” Jordan leaps up, eager at the chance to play with the gears without Randy stopping her. As he’s waiting for his drink, Noah chimes back in to the conversation.

“I like the sound of getting to him through his servants, they might be privy to some vital information. Never mind infiltrating; all we need to do is capture one or two alive.” Noah keeps a significant pause. “I’m loathe to admit this, but we’re past the point of playing coy, I believe: I have some skills that might prove useful. Not all my work has been such as would bear the attention of law, and it would not be the first time I am required to have someone answer questions. I am not proud of that and would have preferred to keep quiet of it, but needs must. Bring me a servant, and on my table they will tell us all we need to know.” He stands facing the others with a coffee in his hand, ready for a backlash from the more prudish members of the party.

149

“I brought your little lost lamb,” the cat said as it entered the strategy room. It immediately turned around, darting between Henchard’s legs as he entered. The cat smirked as he nearly stumbled, and Henchard shot it a glare. The door shut, the cat disappeared, and Henchard leaned against the wall.

A quick scan of the room showed he was one of the last to arrive.  The cat probably took an extra long route.  Even the Zailor was here somehow.  Henchard made a note to give the arm to him after this meeting.  Anything to get it out of his possession faster.  Emma was by Drake, and Henchard shifted to keep her in easy view.  Always hard to trust someone after a literal backstabbing.  And was that...a child?  Talking to Noah.  Which idiot brought a child into this?

“-I am not proud of that and would have preferred to keep quiet of it, but needs must. Bring me a servant, and on my table they will tell us all we need to know.&quot Noah was saying.  Probably that idiot then.  Henchard bit his tongue.  No, no need to be cruel.  They were on the same team.

“You speak from experience, I assume?”  Henchard asked, “How many immortals have you interrogated exactly?  Was Feducci willing to lie down on the table and let you prod around?  Or maybe Drake?”  Wrong track.  Henchard bit his tongue again, letting a beat pass before he spoke again  “Besides, As we saw in our little fight, the Shade’s servants don’t seem to feel pain.  Do you have a plan to get around that little obstruction?”  Why can’t he control himself?  There was no need to make Noah feel worse.

“If you do have a plan for that,” Henchard’s mouth continued, “How reliable would that information be?  These are not the steadiest people to begin with, and the Shade has been in their heads for who knows how long.”  Keep it calm, keep it calm.  “None of the information you would gain could be trusted.”  Henchard lapsed into silence, biting his tongue, not trusting himself to speak again.

edited by suinicide on 4/1/2017

150

The expression on Noah’s face isn’t one of someone angry, or someone afraid that their flaws have been pointed out. The closest you could get is to call it the pleasantly surprised face of a teacher who has been asked an insightful question, even if the answer is trivial.

“You need not worry. It will work, immortal or not. It is a question of scientific fact.” Noah considers his next words. “I am not bragging, it’s not about my skills, but he method I have been taught is not prone to failing, and resistance to pain or lied admissions are not a problem. They will tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.” Noah draws breath. “I will stake my head on it if need be. The information will be gained and it will be accurate.”

151

Gideon sips his tea, and listens to the blind doctor talk.

It sounds like he’s more interested in revenge for what the Shade did to him than information, murmurs Voice 3.

He agrees. When a person becomes a victim of something terrible, there are two approaches they can take: the first is to take a stand and try to prevent such things happening again, and the second is to become the victimiser. Noah has clearly opted for the second. Or perhaps it was just in his nature before the Shade blinded him.

Gideon clears his throat. “I don’t think torture is the answer here. I’ve had occasion to be a… spectator… to such things, and in my experience the unfortunate victim will say anything to avoid further pain. I won’t question your expertise in the matter, but torture is an unreliable means to extract information no matter who practices it.”

152

Noah draws breath for an annoyed response, but manages to catch himself. The offer has been made, and if they won’t take it, that’s up to them. Insisting further would be too suspicious.

“As you say. The question on how to acquire information on the Shade still remains. Any suggestions?”

153

&quotWe have ways of finding information without putting ourselves at so much risk,&quot Azoth remarked. &quotThe Sergeant&quot - And the child, perhaps? she wondered - &quothas his network and I have my own. The Great Game is built to endure, and its networks are difficult to dismantle, to say the least.&quot I’d know, she wanted to add. but she restrained herself. &quotThe passage of information through them is hard to follow and they can adapt to changing circumstances. The Shade might be immortal, but it’s not all-powerful. It can’t keep track of every bat or identify every one of our informants.&quot

&quotBesides,&quot she continued, &quotI’d imagine a wandering band of hoboes would create quite a stir in London. If they remain together, people will take notice and it’ll be easy to learn more. If they separate, we can consider picking them off while they’re divided. It’s not a perfect solution, but having eyes all over London is better than being bl -&quot she caught herself - &quotbeing holed up here. And once the networks are mobilized against the Shade, we can begin thinking about pain. Apply pain to the right places, and a creature will run towards safety. Apply pain to that safety, and we can force it to come to us. We can’t do that stumbling around alone.&quot

And maybe some good can finally come out of the Great Game.

154

Lyndon spends a good deal of time looking over the kid, making sure she doesn’t blow anything up or burns herself while operating the odd coffee-making furnace. A curious piece of machinery, that. He has heard that something similar had been invented in Italy a few years back, but he has never seen something similar with his own eyes. He wonders if his host has imitated a design already existing or if that is entirely his own creation.

Finally, the kid manages to get the furnace to spit out coffee like it’s supposed to do. She fills a cup to the brim and hands it to him. He accepts it, slightly puzzled. “Thank you, but I’d rather have tea.”

“It’s not for you.” she retorts. The Sergeant frowns, but the kid sustains his glare with one of her own. “Get it to Bart and say you’re sorry for being a meanie.”

Lyndon is about to protest, but the kid has already turned to the machine, and she’s quietly filling another cup for Noah. He lowers his head in defeat and makes his way back to the table. He arrives in time to hear the cat-lady’s plan. He stops to ponder it, forgetting all about the uncomfortably hot cup he’s still holding in his hands.

It’s not a bad plan. It’s feasible, and it might even work, albeit he doesn’t really know how much the creature cares for a bunch of semi-insane wretches. Besides, he might have to call in some favors to mobilize the required manpower – some of those he has been saving up for a rainy day. Overall, he’d rather use Drake as a bait, since that wouldn’t force him to draw on his own resources. However, his main source of concern is another.

The Sergeant takes a moment to study the shadowy lady herself. It’s hardly a surprise that she’s a part of the Game, although he has to wonder how she figured out he’s a fellow member. He’s fairly sure he has never met her before, and that he has never heard of someone that quite matches her description – although it’s still possible, given how inconspicuous she is. He’s sure he has been cautious enough, and while it’s true that the Canons of St. Joshua have a sixth sense to recognize each other, her calm assessment that he’s a fellow spy is enough to make him suspicious.

I might have to keep an eye on her.

“It can be arranged.” he comments with his best off-hand tone. “It’ll take time, though.”

Lyndon walks up to the sailor and puts the cup of steaming coffee on the table in front of him. “Listen,” he murmurs low enough to keep the conversation between the two of them. “you don’t like me, and the feeling’s mutual, but the kid is concerned because we’re bickering. Here’s what we’re gonna do: whether you like coffee or not, you’ll take a sip from that cup and nod her way. If you don’t do that, she’ll bother both of us to no end. Trust me, you don’t wanna go through that.”
edited by Bertrand Lyndon on 4/3/2017

155

&quotIt’s not a very bad idea,&quot says Timmel Orosenn. &quotI agree that our current dearth of information puts us at a severe disadvantage. In fact, I don’t see how we can put together a meaningful plan at all before knowing more about our enemy and the way he works.

&quotI have two objections though: first, do we really need—and want—to use the networks of the Great Game? Please don’t take it personally, Azoth, Sergeant, but I generally don’t like spies all that much. And we took on this job after all! I’m not yet willing to stand aside and delegate our work to outsiders, even your personal spy-networks, calling even more unnecessary attention to us than we already have. Don’t forget that our stunt on Seven Devils square was a public event.

&quotMy second issue is this: ‘I’d imagine a wandering band of hobos would create quite a stir in London,’ you said. But it hasn’t! The Shade is definitely keeping a low profile whenever he’s not currently murdering someone. We had no inkling of his army before it was unleashed upon us, and they were quite stealthy in their approach. I imagine they are either stationed all over London, or being kept together in some secret lair. I’m tending towards the latter, not least due to the hobos’ need for their master’s blood.

&quotNow, tracking down a beast’s lair sounds like my kind of work. I’m well aware the Shade is not a beast exactly, but I’d be more than willing to return to the city posthaste and do some snooping around. Once we know where he hides, where his army is stationed, and how many they are, we’ll have a far better chance of putting together a functional plan.

&quotHowever,&quot here she pauses, &quotI certainly won’t bring back any ‘souvenirs’ for Dr Rache to act his personal vengeance out upon. I may not like spies very much, but I detest torturers.&quot Her voice carries significant anger during that last remark, but only Azoth sits close enough to notice the tension in Lady Orosenn’s body and the way her fists are clenching and unclenching, clenching and unclenching again. Seems like there’s a personal story behind that dislike of torturers…

156

Evensong expression does not change with Lady Timmel’s passionate declaration of her dislike of spies, but she does reach a comforting hand for her spouse. She rarely likes monster hunters herself.

&quotPerhaps we should pair off into two teams - one for social information gathering and others who are more experienced in tracking monsters. The next question is how shall we communicate our findings to each other? Bats are safe and not usually noticed, but fragile. It looks like a few are you are friends with cats, but I’m not sure how the Shade aligns with their agenda. Human messengers are probably too noticeable - unless someone knows someone truly exceptional.&quot

157

Another crack in the stoicism. A tension in the hands, possibly a tic, or perhaps a conscious effort to calm down discreetly. A distaste for torturers was only natural for living beings, creatures who could understand pain, and hatred was common enough, but there was a story hidden here; that much was obvious. To hunt the Neath’s monsters was to master your body, to let every facet of your being work in harmony to bring down the enemy. For emotion to break through that discipline was a feat in its own right.

I’ll have to keep an eye on this, Azoth thought. Tensions were rising and there was too much at stake to let it hurt them. It’s a good thing the kid’s here, though, she thought, looking over at the Sergeant and the Sailor. His dismissiveness was only natural, given that he had much, much larger problems at that moment, but she had little doubt he was dissecting her words for hidden threats or weaknesses to be exploited. He’d taken great pains to protecting his identity, and even with her spies working singularly on identifying Shrines of St. Joshua and their canons, at best she’d only been able to guess. A secretive sergeant who appeared near shrines was rather useless of a description when scribbled on the back of a napkin at Caligula’s, but an acquaintance of the Sergeant’s showing up here and now with weapons and supplies? That didn’t happen on its own.

Still, her probe had confirmed a few of her suspicions. He hadn’t ruled out her plan, so he likely had the resources to enact it. A man of such connection was most likely a canon, and she wondered how he became so deeply enmeshed, a soldier among spies. Perhaps she could ask Jordan later. So many stories to probe, she thought. It might as well be a novel. It would hurt to see all of these stories cut down, brought to an end at the sharp edge of a blade. With true death at the doorstep, they couldn’t afford to risk losing one of their own.

&quotSo long as we remain in the dark, tracking the Shade through the city will be dangerous,&quot she stated. &quotEvensong’s idea has its merits, but,&quot she turned to address Lady Orosenn, &quothunting alone would be foolhardy. The quarry is the hunter, and you’ve seen what the Shade can do. If it were to catch you in your sleep, that would be the end of you, forever. A party of two, at least, is necessary, if not more. A team, as she said, not a rogue.&quot Perhaps, Emma would work, she considered. Lovers would fight to the death for each other, and the New Sequence’s protection could keep them, or at least Emma, safe enough to gather data.

&quotIn the end, though, one pair of eyes, even ones as experienced as yours, is still just one pair of eyes, and having a network behind you is worth more than you’d suspect. You’ll need a way to communicate your findings to the rest of us, and the more eyes that are searching, the broader the area that can be swept. It’s better to tap the resources that we have and let them work in the background, out of sight and out of mind.&quot And if the Shade can leave a scar in the Great Game, she thought, who am I to stop it?

158

Edward, who has been listening quietly throughout the meeting, responds to Emma’s question, “If it wouldn’t be to much trouble, I would rather go with the sergeant and Mr. Dynamo”. Then pauses for a moment and says, “As for messages, I have some connections with the urchins. For my purposes so far, they have been very good message carrier”.

159

Timmel groans inwardly. A hunting party! No way. She would take along one person, preferredly Emma, but that was it. There isn’t really any polite way of saying that though, so she settles for glowering at the rest of the group in the most threatening manner possible. Let’s see whether anyone has the guts for signing up now…

160

At the mention of splitting up and heading out into the city, Gideon nips off to the broom cupboard next door. He returns shortly with a contraption that looks like the offspring of a magic lantern and a phonograph, which he sets up on a side table to point across the main table at the broad opposite wall.

With a little coaxing the lantern flickers to life, projecting a bright circle of light on the wall. Gideon adjusts the lenses to make the circle cover more of the wall. Voice 1 hums appreciatively.

“The lights, if you please,” he says, nodding to Jordan, who happens to be near the gas valve attached seemingly at random to one of the many pipes running down from the ceiling. After a bit of back-and-forth gesticulating indicating which way to turn it, the gas lamps on the walls gutter out. The room falls into darkness, leaving only the lantern-light illuminating falling dust particles as it streams onto the wall. The light is no longer a circle; a head in portrait seems to be forming in shadow…

“Heads down in front,” says Gideon, and the perpetrator ducks out of the way of the projector.

Gideon removes the metal sphere that the Paradox Engine made earlier from his pocket. He releases a clasp on the side and the sphere opens on hidden hinges, spilling metal beads into his hand. Then he snaps the empty sphere shut again and rolls it down a chute in the projector. The image on the wall blurs and changes, resolving into a cluster of city streets seen from above. As the view zooms out, it becomes clear from the distinctive S-bend of the river that this is an image of Fallen London.

“I know what you’re thinking, ladies and gentlemen: it’s a map. And you’re not wrong. But this is no ordinary map. “

Gideon places the metal beads in an empty teacup and picks one out. He fishes a bracelet from another of his many pockets and puts the bead into an empty socket. Immediately, a dot of green light flares to life on the map at the fringes of Watchmaker’s Hill.

He spins some dials on the projector and it zooms in on the dot. At this magnification, it is clear that this is no ordinary map; smoke can be seen streaming from chimneys a few blocks away and dark blobs – people – are moving around.

“As I said: no ordinary map. This is not a daguerreotype slotted into my projector; it is a true picture of London as it is now. A bat’s-eye view, so to speak. And the green dot is where this bracelet-“ he holds it in the air- “is located right now.”

“Anyway, the point of all these theatrics is that I’ll be able to coordinate everyone’s efforts as we split up by giving each of you one of these bracelets. With this map, I can check where everyone is, and if you need help you need merely press this button.”
He presses the button on the bracelet and holds it up to his mouth. “Testing, testing.” After a few seconds, the phonograph on the projector spins to life and produces a crackly and over-amplified version of Gideon’s voice. “Testing, testing.”

Gideon grins. “Exciting stuff, isn’t it? This is the future, folks. Not literally, of course; I’m still working on my time machine. But you get the idea. Go forth and gather your information! I’ll be working on a new idea I’ve had for trapping the Shade, and keeping an eye on all of you from here.”

THE GAME IS AFOOT! crows Voice 2.