Tales of the Meridian Society! (TheCorsair, Madame Mim)

Erik's back hit the wall with a quiet 'oof' and for a moment he was disoriented and unsure where to put his priorities. "Darling your dreaaahhh...!" He gasped and his mouth dropped open as she sank to her knees and instantly took his entire length into her mouth. He couldn't stop staring into her eyes as those skillful lips wrapped around his cock...then she moaned. He bit his lip and leaned his head back against the wall in an effort not to make any noise. With a choked noise he gripped her hair at her scalp, holding her still as he came into her mouth. When he loosened his grip on her hair and she stood, his cock twitched in an exquisitely painful way as he watched Sam lick her lips then dab at them with a handkerchief. When she leaned in to kiss him Erik wrapped an arm around her waist, holding his body to her and kissing her hard.

"God I love you!" he whispered back. "You're bringing me dangerously close to saying 'to hell with the party.' But Professor Swift would call it dereliction of duty." Erik leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on her neck before situating himself and leaving just as Anne Marie raised her hand to knock again. She gave him a knowing smirk, but he found he didn't particularly care.

"Well, we simply cannot allow slacking in any areas of study, and that is one of the most important," Anne Marie returned with a smile and a wink. Sam imitated the speech of shallow high society well and when Anne Marie took her hands one could almost imagine they weren't rough from years of hard work. "Thank you, cherie. But never wish to be other than yourself, oui?"

"Whady'all reckon? Kin Ah pass fer a debutante?"

"And more," Madame LaMonte told her with confidence before steering her to the vanity. "Now the question is: whatever shall we do with your hair?"

Anne Marie had refused Algie's insistence that they cut Sam's hair, as was stylish at the moment. It was the one concession to her femininity the Ranger had always kept and she intended to keep it that way, to remind Sam that Samantha is always in there somewhere. Eventually she settled on an updo with a fashionable accessory that Anne Marie thought absolutely unnecessary in usual circumstances. But Sam was supposed to be a society lady, which meant being concerned with the latest trends; the dowager herself preferred a classic, timeless look over fads but she was also some decade Sam's senior. Once hair was done, then came makeup. Finally everything was done and Anne Marie smiled at her in the mirror before leading her downstairs.

"Gentlemen, allow me to present Miss Samantha Cavendish."

When Anne Marie lead Sam down the stairs even Kieran had to do a double-take. The Ranger was positively unrecognizable. Erik opened and closed his mouth wordlessly for a few moments before remembering his head and standing then hurrying to the stairs to offer her his arm. Suddenly all of the nervousness which had often hindered his easy conversation with society ladies came rushing back as he realized, not for the first time, that Sam was way out of his league. He swallowed hard.

"I ah...You-you look...um..." He swallowed again, her radiance making it hard to speak and the fact that she had chosen him making it impossible. He was overwhelmed with gratitude and disbelief.

"I think Rick means to say you look lovely, love," Kieran supplied, to which Erik nodded. The pirate stood and looked at the others. "Well, are we going or not?"
 
Sam allowed Anne Marie to seat her before the vanity, curious to see what the older woman would do with her hair. Certainly not cut it. She'd intervened on that subject, when the discussion with Professor Swift about cutting it had rapidly escalated to the point that she was going to punch the insufferable arrogant bastard right in the nose. Fashion wanted short hair? Fashion could go fuck itself, because she was keeping her hair.

Anne Marie did something simple and clever, just a few twists and the addition of a headband of silver and pearls and suddenly Sam didn't recognize herself in the mirror. Then some subtle applications of makeup followed, applied with a delicate artistry far beyond she'd managed in the few months since she'd started using it, and... "Oh, my," she breathed. Because there was no trace of Sam Cavendish, Tejas Ranger in the mirror. She was looking at Samantha Cavendish, aristocratic daughter of a wealthy Dallas Don.

Carefully rising, almost afraid that movement would break the illusion, Sam looked from the mirror to Madame LaMonte and back. "Ah... I simply do not know what to say." Then, grinning, she impulsively hugged the other woman. "Thank you!" Drifting towards the door in a haze of euphoria, she hesitated as she touched the knob and then hurried back to her luggage. Hiking up her skirts, she strapped a slim-bladed knife to one calf and a five-shot .32 automatic to the other.

"Y'all always told me Ah should use pertection," she laughed, letting the skirts fall once more. "An 'sides, this is a business meetin'. Which reminds me..." she dug in to the luggage once more and extracted a long, thin box. Opening it, she fastened the necklace within around her throat. It was a simple thing, a silver chain with a six-pointed star pendant done in white gold. Erik had given it to her, having had it made after the pattern of her badge.

"Now then, Madame LaMonte... shall we grace the gentlemen with our presence?"

Bold words, uttered to hide her nerves. But the anxiety grew with each step, as the memory of the mirror faded and the realization that she was going to have to go out like this increased, and she began to wonder how the others would resact. Oh, sure, Erik would be wonderful, but he loved her. What would the others say, though, when they saw plain ol' flat-chested boyish Sam a-tryin' to put on airs?

They all stared at her, open-mouthed. Erik, bless his heart, was utterly cute as he stammered and nearly tripped tryin' to offer his arm, an' Kieran managed to pay her a compliment by translating Erik's babbling. Colin, for his part, looked surprised and then speculative - looking at her like he was just now realizing she was a woman.

"A remarkable transformation," the Professor declared. "I believe that Madame LaMonte has found a worthy pupil in you, Senorita Cavendish. And the both of you were correct in your decision not to cut your hair, I believe. But by all means, it is time we were about the business of the evening."

Then he did something that made Sam's jaw drop and Colin's eyes go wide. Approaching the two women, he offered Madame LaMonte his arm. "May I have the great pleasure of escorting you to our car," a mischevious smile appeared and vanished, "Anne Marie?"
 
Kieran smiled at how pleasantly surprised Sam looked before glancing over at Colin, who'd said nothing. He still looked taken aback that the Ranger was capable of femininity. Stepping in more closely he nudged Colin hard in the ribs. "Say something, ya bastard," he muttered in his ear. "She's a girl tonight. Girls like compliments. Or do I have to worry about you going back to the other side, hm?"

Anne Marie raised an eyebrow when the Professor declared that he had been wrong about cutting her hair. That was quite a big concession. An even bigger concession was when he stepped over to her and not only offered her his arm, but called her by her given name in front of the others. Even she had to work hard not to show her surprise, but returned the sly smile as she took his arm.

"It's quite an honor, Algernon," she replied, exchanging a look with Sam over her shoulder before letting him lead her to the car.

"Impossible," Kieran said once they'd left the room, shaking his head. "I mean, her maybe...but he's too concerned with regulation and propriety and shit. And besides, he's old enough to be her father. It'll never happen."

"Perhaps we ought to speculate later," Erik suggested as he consulted his pocket watch, "when we don't run the risk of being late to our own mission." He lead Sam to the car ahead of the captains and seemed to have found his voice again after they stepped inside and sat across from the older pair. (Couple...?) "You look radiant tonight, Doña Cavendish," he said softly, leaning in for a bit of privacy in conversation. His eyes traveled down to the pendant at her throat and he smiled before reaching into his own shirt and pulling out a silver Star of David on a chain. "A star for luck, eh?" he smiled before tucking the pendant back in.

Erik had long ago found a way to reconcile God and science, but every now and then he had a bout of superstition that was enough to compel him to wear the pendant his aunt had given him for his Bar Mitzvah. A thirteen-year-old boy had thought it was ridiculous to wear a girly necklace, but he'd found it around his neck more often as he'd gotten older.

"Well, better get out there before they think something's up," Kieran sighed, pressing a kiss to Colin's temple. "You look grand love, you really do. C'mon." He offered his arm playfully to Colin, but dropped it as soon as the door opened. The officers took a second car so that the women's dresses wouldn't be rumpled by cramped quarters. With a driver they couldn't exactly make out, but stealthily Kieran teased his lover by sliding his hand to his inner thigh, then to undo his fly as they drove through the streets of Berlin.
 
Sam blinked in surprise, touching her own pendant for a moment as she ran her fingers over Erik's neck (a little longer than was strictly necessary) and tugged his necklace back out. "You had one made for yourself?" she asked, before kissing his cheek. "That is so sweet, leeb chen." She paused. "Did Ah say that right?" A snort attracted her attention. "And what, Professir, is so funny?"

"Nothing," the Professor replied. "It is a symbol of his faith, Samantha."

Sam considered that. "Mine too," she declared. "Ah mesn, Ah was raised Baptist an' learned to read from the Bible, but Ah always put my faith in the law. And..."

The Professor shook his head. "It's not a Ranger's badge, Samantha. It's a Magan David."

"Mah-gahn Daf-fid..." Sam repeated slowly, sounding the odd words out. "Ah ain't rightly got no clue what yer talkin' about. But... it ain't a little badge?" She rested her hand on her pendant, pressing it into her flesh as she looked at Erik. "What is it, then?"


"You look grand, love. You really do."

Colin, equally teasingly, took the proffered arm. "I bet you say that to all tbe Royal Aeronaval officers you encounter in dress whites. I think you're just a man-whore for a sharp uniform." Both men dropped their arms as the door opened, but there were smug looks of amusement on both men's faces as they walked down the stairs and entered the second car.

The smug amusement vanushed behind an expression of concentration as Kieran unzipped his fly and began stroking a cock that hadn't yet gone fully sift. It was an act of will for Colin not to moan aloud, and he thrust his cock harder into the pirate's fist under the pretense of shifting in his seat. "Careful," Colin murmured, rigid control making his language stilted. "I didn't bring extra clothes, so - aaaah - so try not to... to... to... make a mess."
 
Anne Marie smiled a little in amusement but nudged Algie when he laughed. "Don't laugh, Algernon!" she chided. But when Sam didn't seem to know what the Shield of David was, she pressed her lips together and sat back in her seat, looking out the window to give the couple privacy. They'd been together several months now; she thought they'd have already discussed this sort of thing.

Erik was also a little surprised she didn't know the symbol the way he would know a cross. But then, she wasn't a minority, and he doubted there were many of God's People in Texas. He cleared his throat, unsure how to proceed without insulting her intelligence.

"Magen David is the Star of David, Geliebte," he said after a few moment's consideration. "I suppose apart from luck I chose to wear it tonight as an act of defiance. The Star of David, you see, is a symbol of my people. The Jewish people. This Adolf cretin has been building a career on the spread of antisemitism--a hatred of Jews--so I suppose it was to show that I'm not afraid of him. Germany is my home, and to Hell with anyone who says otherwise." Erik's eyes searched her face in the dark car, silently praying to find acceptance there. Could he really blame her if she left him? He personally didn't care that they were of different faiths; love was God-given, and would always find a way if it were meant to be. But if it was important to her...well...he would be shattered. His heart thundered in his chest as he waited for her to say something. Anything.

"Does this bother you, liebchen?" he prompted finally. The silence had seemed to stretch into hours even though it was only a few seconds and he couldn't help but ask.

Kieran smirked when Colin called him a man-whore. "Well, I do love a man in uniform," he said with a grin.

In the dark of the car he licked his lips as he watched Colin's face contort with effort to be quiet lest the driver hear them. He squeezed the captain's shaft gently as he thrust his cock into his hand. Colin cautioned him not to make a mess and Kieran glanced at the driver, who was professionally avoiding the rearview mirror except to glance now and then at traffic. The pirate scooted closer and leaned in, his lips barely brushing Colin's ear.

"Don't worry love," he whispered, "I'll make sure you don't get that sexy uniform mussed. Just give me a warning first, yeah?" His throbbing shaft strained against his own trousers as he placed gentle kisses behind Colin's ear and down his neck. His free arm wrapped around Colin's shoulders. "You're gonna owe me though." His lips turned up in a smile against the officer's flesh as more kisses burned a trail across his skin and the Fenian's hand pumped a little more insistently up and down his shaft.
 
"Does this bother you, liebchen?" he prompted finally.

Sam gave him a curious look. "Should it? Ah reckon... ahem, that is, a man's faith is his business, isn't it? Ah mean, Los Estados Unidos Mexicanos is mostly Catholic, but my pa... my father raised us Baptist. And if there wasn't a Baptist preacher handy, we'd just read from the Bible." She shrugged. "So yer Jewish. Yer German, too, and Ah ain't... haven't worried about that either."

Smiling, she leaned into Erik. "An' Professor?"

Professor Swift looked slightly baffled to be drawn back into the conversation. "Yes, Samantha?"

"Business or no, Ah'll slug this Adolph fellah if'n he says somethin' stupid to mah Erik."



Colin gasped a little again, biting his lip to try and disguise his reaction. No sense in letting the chauffeur know what was going on, after all. "Owe.. you, hm?" he leered. "Part... part of your... your plan, I suppose? To... to get me... off... alone... at the... party?" His fingers dug into the edge of the seat, knuckles whitening with tension as his hips rocked upwards to meet Kieran's fist. "Or... do you mean... after?"

He drew a shuddering breath, eyes rolling back a little as his head dribbled pre-cum onto the pirate's hand. "Getting... getting there..." he gasped. "But... I assure... you... I won't... go... easily..."
 
Erik breathed a sigh of relief. He hadn't intentionally hidden his faith from her; it simply hadn't occurred to him, or had seemed obvious to him. He gently kissed her temple, being careful not to muss her hair. A wave of affection threatened to overwhelm him, but they were still in Madame LaMonte and Professor Swift's presence, and he was certain the only reason they were allowed to carry on their fraternization was because they were professional about it.

"Some people feel their faith is justification to deny affection--platonic or otherwise--to others," he explained, then laughed when Sam threatened to punch this Hitler person. "Please do not bloody Herr Chancellor, liebchen," he chuckled, kissing her temple affectionately again. "I am still a German citizen and a member of German society. It would reflect very poorly on my family, no matter how much an angel my partner appeared." He smiled and nudged her gently.

The chancellory was grandly lit and appeared from the outside like a palace. Erik had passed it many times but had never been inside, and now more than ever it was an intimidating building. Once the car had pulled around and he'd handed Sam down from the car he gave her his arm and put his free hand over hers.

"Deep breath," he said as much to himself as to her, smiling nervously. "Many people here are friends of mine or my family. Simply keep thinking of them as nothing more than my friends. You'll do beautifully."

In the car behind the others Kieran grinned mischievously as he leaned his head on Colin's shoulder. "Both, probably," he admitted. His cock throbbed in his hand and the pirate grinned when he admitted he was getting close.

A hole was a hole and a mouth was a mouth. That was what Kieran had told himself, anyway, in his moments of doubt and self-loathing. He licked his lips; there was no going back after this. What if he was bad at it? No, that was ridiculous; he knew what he liked, so he'd just do that. Besides, he was Captain Kieran Shane; like he wouldn't be good at sucking cock!

He took a deep breath before lowering his head into Colin's lap. In the month they'd been whatever they were, it had always been Colin on bottom or Colin sucking him off. It was a step Kieran had never been quite ready to take. But it felt so right to have to stifle a moan around the thick cock in his mouth. The pirate wrapped his lips around his shaft and sucked hard, unable to get enough of him.
 
Despite his resolve, Colin gasped aloud as Kieran lowered his head and swallowed his cock. In a month of fucking, this was a step the pirate hadn't been willing to take - no doubt, Colin had realized, because he was still adjusting to admitting that he was attracted to men. And Colin had respected that, u willing to force the issue and make his lover withdraw.

But holy fuck! He hadn't exoected Kieran to take that next step here in the car!

Objectivly, it wasn't the best blowjob he'd ever had. Kieran was clearly working out some of the details, no doubt working from memories of the attentions he'd received. But subjectively, partucularly knowing that it was Kieran's first? It was hot as hell.

Aware that discretion was still required, Colin managed -barely - to resist the urge to throw his head back, gripping the pirates hair and thrusting into his mouth. Instead, he made a strangled sound as he dug his fingers into the car's leather uphoulstry and drew several strangled breaths. "Nit... not bad," he gasped out, the last word slightly shrill as Kieran performed a successful experiment with his tongue. "I... I think that... that... with a.... little practice... you... you... you might be... be good... at this..."

Discretion or not, now his hips were moving. Kieran smirked at him, pursing his lips as they slid up and down his shaft. Colin made another strangled sound. "Fuck..." he breathed, abandoning pretence as the word dragged itself from his lips. "Fuck... I'm close, Kieran..." He was panting now, his balls tight and heavy as his orgasm neared. "Finish... finish me... " he moaned. "God, Kieran... taste me... while I... I cum..."



"All right, Erik," Sam agreed, taking his arm and cuddling ahgainst him. "If y'all insist, Ah won't punch this Chancellor of yours." She paused a moment. "Less he gives me reason."

"Samantha!" snapped the Professor, alarmed. "This is..."

"Relax," she drawled. "Ah'm teasing. Ah can hold my temoer. If I couldn't, Ah'd have decked a whoke bunch more peopke by now. Maybe even be in jail, as a serial offender."

The car rolled to a halt, and the chauffeur opened the door. The Professor stepped out and offered Anne Marie his arm, followed by Erik. Sam took his arm and stared with a touch of awe at the Chancellory. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach, but Erik's attempt to make her and himself feel better drew a smike from her. "Right," she agreed. "An' if Ah can face down a bandit gang, an' if we can face down an army of Machine-Men, we can face down a gaggle hoity toity rich fatcats. An' if that thought don't put steel in your spine, then..." she leaned close, her voice a sultry whisper in his ear. "Think about how, after this party, Ah'm not even gonna change outta this dress afore Ah ride y'all long an' hard. That should put steel in yer spine. Or somewhere else Ah want steel, anyhow."
 
Well, he seemed to be doing something right, anyway. He'd clearly caught Colin off-guard when he'd leaned down and taken the whole thing--well, most of the whole thing--at once. Kieran smirked when his hips started moving, thrusting as his mouth worked up and down his throbbing shaft. The officer was trying to say something, but the pirate made his voice go a little shrill when he tried a thing with his tongue a buxom blonde in Calais had once done to him. By the way his cock twitched in his mouth it seemed to have worked as planned.

Kieran smirked up at him, around his shaft, as Colin teased him about getting good with practice. He knew the effect he was having on him, but he didn't object to a little more practice a little later. The taste and feel of Colin's thick shaft in his mouth felt more natural, more right than any breast or clit ever had. He moaned when Colin made a strangled sound and begged him to finish him off. One of Kieran's hands slid up Colin's body, pressing his index finger against his lips. The other hand cupped his balls, massaging them gently while the vibrations from his moans shivered up Colin's throbbing length.

The first spurt of seed caught him by surprise and Kieran choked when it hit the back of his throat, working hard not to cough but to swallow it down. The rest of his hot, salty cum was swallowed down gratefully with quiet moans of pleasure. God! Why had he never done this before? When it seemed Colin was spent the pirate meticulously tidied him up, running his tongue up his length, pulling his lips gently over his head, before straightening in the seat and licking his lips. He grinned charmingly at the officer before turning to check his reflection in the window.

"Oh good job love," he chided teasingly, pawing at his hair. "Here I was supposed to look presentable and there ya go mussing me hair."


Erik's posture changed as Sam whispered in his ear. "Samantha!" he murmured back before adjusting his trousers as subtly as he could. "That's a very expensive dress." But he was clearly fighting a smile as he led her in and they were announced as Herr Heinz-Schmidt and Doña Cavendish. He was about to ask her whether she wanted a drink when a voice boomed behind them.

"Erik!" A meaty hand slapped him on the back, nearly knocking his pince nez loose (which Erik was positive had always been a sort of game) and making him cough before clapping him on the shoulder. "Schön dich zu sehen! Ich war nicht sicher, du in der Lage sein würden zu besuchen. Wie geht es ihnen? Und wer ist diese schöne Frau?"

"Heinrich!" Erik adjusted his pince nez and shook the beefy man's hand with a forced smile. "Sie ist meine Freundin, Frauline Samantha Cavendish."

"Sie kennen zu lernen, Frauline Cavendish." Heinrich bowed low and kissed Sam's hand. Though he was around Erik's age he already had the look of someone who had once been large and athletic, but had gone to seed. "Wo kommen Sie her?"

"Auf Texas. Ich lehre sie, aber ihr Deutsch ist nict so gut. Samantha, this is Herr Heinrich Allmendinger. Our families have been friends for generations." Erik smiled again but there was a quality to it which emphasized that he had made the distinction between their families being friends and they themselves being friends. Heinrich hadn't seemed to notice. "They are owners of the largest lumber company in the country."

"Yes, we provide only the best wood." Heinrich winked and kissed her hand again before finally dropping it, and Erik stood ready to step gently on Sam's foot should she start to show that she'd taken offense. "Tell me, Frauline Cavendish, are all of the women in Texas as beautiful as you? Or has Erik here finally managed to dig up a pretty one out of the dirt of all his travels?"
 
Sam gave Heinrich a wintery smike. "Out of the dirt, Herr Allmendinger? No, Ah had the great pleasure of meeting Erik for the first time at a society gathering. Then we moved in the same circles for a time, during my delightful tour of England and the Continent, and then we met again at a masqued ball. After that, since my Grand Tour was going to bring me to the Rhineland, he was kind enough to invite me to stay at his famiky estate."

She eyed him speculatively. "And you give the best wood? Why Herr Allmendinger, Ah do declare that you simply must tell me more!" There was a mischevious glitter in her blue eyes. "Ah know a little about wood myself, since mah family is in the paper business. We grind and pulp wood, reducing it to a mash before rolling it flat."


"It seems our faith in young Miss Cavendish is not misplaced," Professor Swift observed, dryly. "Thrust into the breech, she has risen admirably to her duties. I suppose it must now..."

"Herr Professor Swift?"

The Professor turned a little and found himself addressed by a fair-haired middle-aged man with a thin moustache. "Indeed. And you..?x

"Dietrich Eckhart," the man said, shaking his hand.

"Not the same Eckhart responsibke for the masterful German translation of Peer Gynt?"

"I have that honor, sir. And you are the Professor Algernon Swift who wrote Some Notes Toward A Complete Chronology Of The Descent Of Man?" Eckhart beamed at the Professor's nod. "Please, may I ask you to accompany me? You and your companion both? Your work has been most influential, and I have several friends who would very much like to meet you."



"Mussing your hair?" Colin gasped, still feeling slightly drunk from Kieran's attentions. "If we had time, I would muss far more than that!" He started to lean forward, planning to kiss the pirate, when the car cane to a stop. Reacting quickly, he tucked himself back into his trousers. From the expression on the chauffer's face it was difficult to know if they'd fooled him or not, but he seemed willing to be discrete.

"You must tell me more about your shipping business," he said as he stepped from the vehicle. "As a naval officer I've seen much of the world, but not in the same way you must have. It must be fascinating!"
 
"A masqued ball? Dear Erik where was this? You are far too dull and bookish to be meeting such beautiful women in such interesting places." With a boistrous laugh Heinrich slapped Erik on the back again, finally unseating his pince nez and causing him to laugh more.

"You must tell me the score some time," Erik muttered with not-entirely-good humor before bending to retrieve his glasses. By the time he came back up he had a difficult time holding his horror as Sam bit back at the spoiled lumber heir.

Heinrich, however, laughed loudly. "I like you!" he declared. "Wherever do you come from, Frauline Cavendish? I want three of you! This madchen has a fire to her, Erik. Pulping wood, really!" He laughed again. "Before we go you must give me your father's address so that I may write to him. I'm certain the people of Texas would love nothing more than some good, German-grown wood for their paper."

"I think Dona Cavendish may prefer an alliance made of something a bit stronger than wood, Heinrich," Erik suggested with a tight smile. "Wood can be broken; steel cannot."

But he waved a dismissive hand. "Bollocks your steel!" he roared, grabbing what Erik was sure wasn't his first glass of champagne from a passing tray. "The trees were here long before us and will be here long after we are gone, Erik. I don't see a ring on that hand so if you'll excuse me I'm going to try to make sure the Jews don't steal everything belonging to us. Poor girl's still got time to change her mind, no matter what lies you've told her." He raised his glass to Sam before tossing it back all at once. "Though I will tell you, Frauline, that a man of wood and steel is not an impossible match." He winked.


Anne Marie quickly concealed her shock and disappointment when Algernon pronounced this Eckhart's adaptation of Peer Gynt to be masterful. She'd seen the original play a few nights before attending this re-write and it had struck her immediately as racist and nationalistic; two appalling traits in any person Between this and Wagner she was really starting to wonder about her oldest and dearest friend. Could he remain her dearest friend if he was what he was beginning to appear to be?

Nevertheless she smiled and looked pretty, as was expected of her in mixed company at these sorts of things, and pretended not to realize what might be coming. Algie had written that book nearly a decade ago and was quite proud of it. She had been proud of him, too. But when told by someone so blatantly racist that his work had been influential there was only one way she could see the evening proceeding. She supposed watching Professor Swift's reaction to it would give her an idea of how the difficult conversation ahead would go.

"We would be delighted," she accepted with a flattering smile, taking the Professor's arm.


Their lips just barely brushed...then the car stopped, leaving Kieran with the unsatisfactory feeling of an unfinished kiss. Colin had been quick in putting himself back together. Kieran gave him a small smile and brushed his fingers over the back of the officer's hand before stepping out with him. It was a shame they were both arriving stag.

"Oh, ship anything anywhere we will," Kieran said, feigning enthusiasm. Colin knew perfectly well all about his shipping business. "Silks from Spain, cotton from America, gum resin from Australia, we do it all. Everything except slaves, that is; my company's never shipped slaves to or from anywhere, never will. Being there on the ground, as it were, you see a lot of natives just going about their daily lives. It's crazy, the ways they're just like us and the ways they're so very different."
 
"Three of me?" Sam echoed, voice syrupy sweet as she did. "Suh, Ah reckon one o' me would be far too much for you to handle, steel or no." She turned slightly, offering Erik her arm. "Herr Schmidt, I fear I could use a drink. Could y'all help me find one? I should be ever so grateful."

"I would be delighted..." Heinrich began.

"Ah wouldn't dream of keeping you from preserving the things that belong to you," she interrupted. "And Ah wish y'all luck." Taking Erik's arm, she drifted off into the crowd. "Ah reckon y'all'll need it." Aware that Heinrich could still see her, she leaned in against Erik's shoulder. "He's a... how y'all say it? Ein schwein? Kin Ah kick him? Or wouldn't that look right, since Ah'm supposed to be a lady an all?"


The Professor followed Eckhardt, curious. He'd actually found the man's adaptation of Peer Gynt to be tedious and laced with nationalist tripe. Wagner's work was as well, but Eckhardt's translation didn't even have the virtue of being set to beautiful music. It was turgid and nauseating, with no redeeming qualities. But, well, he couldn't simply say that. Not when he had to pretend to enjoy the company of tedious little men like this as he hunted for clues to the pretentiously-named 'Wings of Silence'.

"Anton! Karl! Adolph!" Eckhardt called. He beamed, escorting the Professor and Anne Marie towards the little group. "Allow me to introduce Herr Professor Algernon Swift..."

"The Professor Swift?" asked one of the men, curious.

"The very same. Professor Swift and his companion..."

The Professor's eyes narrowed slightly, resentful of the insult. "Madame Anne Marie LaMonte."

"Of course," Eckhardt agreed dismissively. "Professor Swift, Madame LaMonte, allow me to introduce the rising stars of the Deutsche Arbeiterpartei: Herr Anton Drexler, Herr Karl Harrier, and Herr Adolph Hitler."

"A pleasure," the Professor said, shaking hands. "Herr Drexler, Herr Harrier. Reichschancellor."

Adolph, a short dark-haired man with a small mustache, laughed at that. "I fear not, Herr Professor."

The Professor blinked. "My apologies, Herr Hitler."

"No, no, not at all," Adolph assured him, clapping him on the shoulder. "I like the way you think. And it has a ring to it, does it not?"


"It sounds much the same as my own experiences," Colin answered. "The details may vary - I carry different 'cargo', for instance - but people are people wherever you may find yourself. But I should not monopolize your time. After all, as you informed me on the train, you are here seeking to make a good match. I very much fear that I would interfere with your search."

He snagged a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, and took a sip. "At the risk of sounding mercenary, I would imagine the recent war has left many noble families of impeccable title without funds or heir. A wealthy merchant such as yourself would be a prize indeed. Why, if..."

"Why, my gallant Captains!" a familiar voice interrupted. Dressed in a gown of electric blue, Yasmine Ameriane approached and hugged first Colin and then Kieran. "I had not hoped to see such familiar and handsome faces here! You must tell me, what brings you to Germany?"
 
Erik smiled as they turned away, waving over his shoulder to Heinrich. "I'm afraid a lady does not go around kicking gentlemen who displease her," he said with a smile, "regardless of how much of ein schwein they are. You were brilliant, liebchen." He kissed her temple briefly. "Tighten up your enunciation though. You're slipping."

"Herr Heinz-Schmidt?"

Erik's heart sank as he got a drink for Sam. Why were the people with whom awkward encounters were inevitable the only ones who seemed to be here tonight? He turned and smiled. "Frauline Stolle, how lovely to see you."

They embraced but it still felt awkward. Gerta Stolle was one of his few sexual liaisons before Sam. For him it had been dull and disappointing, but he'd waited a few months to break it off to avoid hurting her feelings on that matter. In those few months, however, she'd mooned over him even more and seemed to positively fall in love with him. That had been years ago, when they were both teenagers, but things were still tense between them as though she couldn't quite let go of the past. They smiled tightly at one another and Erik dreaded what had to come next.

"This is meine Freundin, Dona Samantha Cavendish of the Dallas Cavendishes. Samantha this is Frauline Gerta Stolle." He stepped aside to let the women shake hands.

"Deine Freundin ober deine Freundin?" Gertrude asked before laughing. And this was one of the reasons it hadn't worked out; she tried to alleviate her discomfort by making others uncomfortable, though not maliciously he was sure, and that laugh. Oh she was pretty enough--Sam made her look dull and plain of course, but by other standards she was pretty--but Gerta had an insipid, breathy giggle that made her nose crinkle like a pig snout.


Anne Marie kept a gentle smile even as the toady implied nasty things about not only her, but about the sort of man Algernon Swift was to bring a prostitute to a party. She curtsied gracefully and offered her hand, but Eckhardt dismissed her in favor of introducing his friends. She gave a wintery smile as the short one--only about as tall as she--joked about becoming chancellor.

"We had heard rumors of it, after your bravery at the Somme," she put in, content to stand and look pretty but not to be mistaken for a piece of furniture. "I heard that you had gone blind after news of the kaiser's defeat, but you appear to have recovered quite well. Good news indeed, Herr Hitler."


"I think you're as likely to help as you are to interfere," Kieran answered with a shrug, also taking a glass of champagne. "Impeccable title is just precisely what I look for in a girl, Captain Drake. " He smiled charmingly. As Colin went on to talk about what a catch he'd be he was interrupted by an oddly familiar voice.

"Yasmine!" He hugged her gingerly, still a bit dazed to see her there. Was the blasted female stalking them or something. "You look stunning, love. We're here for more work, I'm afraid, of the sort we saw in Paris." He gave her a significant look over the rim of his glass before taking another sip. "The busy work of catching a wife, eh? What are you doing here? Certainly not also catching a wife?" He chuckled genially. God he hated vapid smalltalk like this.
 
"Mah... ee-nun-see-a-shen?" Sam started, worried that maybe something was wrong with her dress, before she worked out what that particular word was. "Ah believe," she said, sighing with relief, "that the gentlemen here would expect to hear a little bit of an accent." She rested a hand on his arm. "For the same reasons Ah enjoy listening to a Germanaccent..."

"Herr Heinz-Schmidt?" a feminine voice interrupted.

Sam watched as a woman with long blonde hair and pillowy breasts displayed in a daringly-cut gown that fit her curvy (not quite plump) figure beautifully. It was obvious from her approach that Erik knew her, and thatshe had a keen interest in her man. So she tensed as the introductions were made, emotions careening wildly between jealousy-fueled hatred of Gertrude Stolle and jealousy-fueled dispair and longing fir a more feminine figure.

"Deine Freundin ober deine Freundin?" Gertrude simpered, Giggling.

She could just beat the bitch down right now. "Freundin," she responded witha warm smile. "Erik has become such a dear, close friend since Ah've met him."

Gertrude looked at her in a oeculiar fashion, then glanced at Erik and back. "Ah, yes, I see." She laughed. "Yes, he is such a dear, isn't he?" Before Sam coukd respond, Gertrude's soft arm was around her shoulders as the German woman led her towards the bar. "You simply must tell me how you two met! And about events in Dallas! I visited there, once, you kniw. A cousin of mine married Don Houston, before the war..."


The flare of irritation in Anne-Marie's eyes at the way these men were sidelining her made Algernon worrry. For them. Not that he feared she'd lose her professional manner, but because he knew that she wasn't above giving lessons. And he doubted they'd forget or easily forgive the lessons.

"Yes, most remarkable courage," he agreed. "But if you are not - oor should I say not yet - in government, what brings you to this gathering?"

Herr Hitler looked around. "Because I am, as you say, not yet in government. But I have plans, Herr Doktor, plans to reach very highly indeed." He made a sweeping gesture. "And with such plans, it is necessary to be seen. But even if it were nit, meeting you would have made me glad to attend."

"Oh?" Algernon lifted an eyebrow in surprise.

"Why, yes! I have read your monograph on evolutionary theory and admire your gift for making complex scientific ideas comprehensibke to the layman! And it has shaped my own thoughts on the matter of race!"

"I have?" Now the Professor sounded baffled. "It was merely an analysis of the development of cranial capacity in genus Homo…"

"And how illuminating it was!" Hitler assured him. "A clear demonstration of the superiority of pure Aryan blood over the mud races."


Yasmine giggled at Kielbasa an's comments. "A wife?" she asked, resting a dusky hand on his chest. "Why my charming Second Captain, I'd had designs on you myself! And on your friend," she added, glancing at Colin. "Unless you don't share. Because I'd be content watching..."

Colin's eyes went wide, and she laughed again. "Or perhaps I tease? Maybe, if you're lucky, you'll find out. But, although I might have come just for the two of you, I'm afraid I am here on business."

Linking arms with both men, she drew them towards the bar. "With my brother's death, I feel I must honor his memory by pursuing his mission. Which, sadly, involves meetings with the tedious leaders of the German Worker's Party. Be make common cause where one must, after all. Even with petty-minded men who believe skin color determines worth."

She paused for a moment, allowing Sam and Gertrude to pass. "That woman," she said, observing them, "I feel that I have met her before..."
 
"Well of course they do Schatze, but--"

But Gerta was interrupting. Erik felt Sam stiffen beside him and knew that she knew something, if not the whole truth. And then the women squared off in that way typical of women, leaving him blinking in a rather bewildered manner in their wake. Oh sure he knew that women behaved that way sometimes when it came to a man they both had designs on, but he'd never expected that behavior to be about him. And furthermore, he'd never expected Sam to engage in such behavior. It was startling and, if he were honest, rather flattering considering how abjectly she usually denied any sort of femininity. He opened his mouth but Gerta steered his date away from him and towards the bar. Helplessly and with a vague gesture which suggested he didn't know what to do with his hands, he followed behind.

"Dona Cavendish hasn't been in Dallas in some months," he said from behind them, still feeling rather helpless. They were both terribly strong-willed women and it was probably prudent not to get in the way of this clash of Titans, but he still wanted to help Sam. "She's been on tour; London, Castile, the usual haunts. Most recently we met in Paris, actually."


Anne Marie's jaw visibly tightened as she was slighted and shunted by the men, though only Algie would have recognized it as a warning sign. Her smile remained pinned neatly in place, even when this Hitler lout began misconstruing the intentions of Algernon's book. Her weight shifted and she took a sip of her drink, managing not to choke even as he pronounced the word 'mud races.' Was this clown actually serious? Anne Marie tilted her head gently, as though he'd just said something fascinating.

"I find the interpretation of the scientific works of others by politicians to be very interesting, Herr Hitler, don't you?" she asked mildly. "It's rather like religion in that way. And of course many people believe that science and religion are irreconcilable and absolutely at odds, but that's silly. You see the wonderful thing about science, such as Professor Swift's works on the evolution of mankind, is that it's unequivocally true regardless of what you believe and how you apply it. Some people cherrypick apply science, like they cherrypick and apply the Bible, to fit their own agendas. One must know that one's god is man-made when that god hates all the same people one does, and one must know that one's science is ill-applied when it demonizes all the same people one does. Politicians seem the most adept at man-making both gods and science, wouldn't you agree Herr Hitler? Herr Eckhardt?" Anne Marie smiled pleasantly at them all as though she'd been discussing the weather.

"'Virtue is choe'd with foul ambition,' meine Herren," she warned in that same pleasant, almost vapid tone. "Professor Swift, this song holds particular meaning for me; it was my first dance with my poor husband when we first married. Might I trouble you to humor a lonely dowager?" Anne Marie turned her smile to him and a bit of the plaster holding it in place chipped away when it became more genuine. The piece had indeed been the first dance with Monsieur LaMonte at their wedding, but it had held meaning for her before that. Algie had taught her everything she knew about dancing, and this had been one of the most frequent songs he'd helped her practice to both because she loved the music and because it was slow. Certainly she understood why he was a fan of powerful, forceful, masculine Wagner, but she would never allow him to pass up Dvorak in her presence.

"You can go back and try to get some sort of information from them later," she muttered through her teeth as they walked to the floor, "but I couldn't stand there another moment, not with the utter tripe they were saying about your work!"


Kieran elbowed Collin when his eyes went wide. A little subtlety please! He allowed Yasmine to link her arm to his and followed her to the bar, but even he had trouble retaining his composure when Yasmine recognized Sam. He laughed as though only just getting her joke, or as if she'd said something else funny.

"Well, enough of business then," he said with too much joviality. The pirate nearly winced at the falseness in his own tone. "I think I've had enough to drink for now," a bald-faced lie, "might I trouble you for a dance in the meantime? Perhaps we can find pleasure in business out on the floor? Hm?"
 
"He really is such an adorable man, isn't he?" Gertrude laughed as Erik called out behind him. "And quite a catch, other than being Jewish."

Sam stiffened a little at that. "Ah don't rightly see..." she began angrily.

"Oh, I never cared myself," Gertrude assured her. "But, since the war, well... there are many who blame the Jews for the woes of Germany. Erik's religion is something of a social and political liability for him, which is why I grieved but was glad when he went abroad." She smiled warmly. "But I suspect you hardly wish to hear me speak of my relationship with Erik, Dona Cavendish - may I call you Samantha? And you simply must call me Gerty! How did you two meet? It must be a fascinating story!"

Sam's thoughts raced as, faced with the unexpected interrogation and her seething jealousy she found her cover story evaporating from her memory. "We... uhm... we'd moved in the same circles in London for, for a while now. The same acquaintences, the same friends, an' th' like. But we, uhm, we... uh... we were both in Spain." She swallowed. "Kinda got talkin' there, an', well, he was nice."

Gerty nodded agreement.

"First man Ah met who was concerned 'bout me, an' not what Ah was."

Gerty nodded enthusiastic agreement at that. "It's so tiring, isn't it? Receiving suit from men who see your wealth and not you. Champagne," she added, addressing the bartender. "And you, Samantha?"

Beer. And a whiskey chaser. "Uhm... wine. A red wine, please."


Madame Anne Marue LaMonte was a positive delight to dance with, Professir Swift decided. Light on her feet and graceful, responding to his lead without giving him the feeling he was steering. What a shame he recognized the piece they waltzed to, the same song she'd danced to on her wedding night. It spoiled the mood, just a little.

But not as much as the conversation he'd just escaped.

"They are fools!" he snapped. "Darwin's theories hardly support such nonsense, despite what the so-called 'social Darwinists' preach! Eugenics is founded on a flawed premise! Evolution, even evolution directed by artificial selection, requires an isolated population and hundreds - thousands! - of generations! To utilize my work to justify such abhorrant..!"

Angrily, he bit off the rest of the comment. Breathing deeply, he composed his features. "I... apologize. I had not realized how worked up I had become."


"A dance?" Yasmine purred. "My dear second Captain, I would love to dance. Do you..." She glanced knowingly at Colin, then leaned into Kieran. "No matter. On the floor, at least, I shall let you lead."
 
Gerta steered Sam towards the bar and Erik followed helplessly, giving an apologetic look whenever Sam happened to glance back at him. He'd personally found the woman dull and vapid during their time together, but when it came to gossip he'd always just sort of tuned her out. Whenever she insisted him on regaling him with the gossip about him, about her, or both, he'd always found himself helpless to stop her. Then she mentioned his religion and Erik's mouth fell open slightly. How dare she? Not only was Gerta trying to sabotage his relationship with Sam--for all she knew he'd never mentioned it to her--but seemed to be trying to make her uncomfortable. He'd always dismissed her as empty-headed but harmless enough, but now he saw she'd changed since they were teenagers. Gerta had allowed society to make her calculating and cold under a thin veneer of friendliness, just like all the others.

"As she said, Samantha and I had been moving through the same circles for a while," Erik interjected, stepping up firmly and taking Sam's free arm, looking sternly over her head at Gerta. "But we'd never really spoken much to each other, had only seen each other at parties and so forth. But in Madrid we were formally introduced by Professor Algernon Swift, who I believe might be around here somewhere..." He trailed off and craned his neck as though looking for the Professor and not perfectly aware that he was indeed around here somewhere. "And the rest, as they say, is history. At that particular gathering I don't believe we spoke to anybody else all night." He smiled warmly down at Sam, trying to encourage some of that radiant self-confidence she'd so possessed around Heinrich to come back. "To be perfectly honest, I could speak to no one else at any other social event ever again and die a happy man." Erik turned his smile to Gerta in an attempt to make his meaning perfectly clear. "That we should all be so lucky to meet such a one, hm Gerta?"


Professor Swift may have thought that she was graceful, but really when he'd been training her as a teenager Anne Marie had gotten so used to his style, to the feel of his hand on her back, that he didn't have to steer. The tiniest twitch of his fingers could communicate volumes to her the way nobody else could. She wondered briefly whether this was due to familiarity or skill; would Erik, a ballroom champion some years ago if she remembered, be able to lead her as skillfully as the man whose touch she knew as intimately as her own?

Well that's a certain text! She waved away the line of thought like smoke and simply focused on how nice it felt to dance with Algie again and not how she wanted to still his lips on his angry tirade. She smiled gently and shook her head when he apologized.

"One of us was going to hit them, and I did not know whether it being you or me would be worse," Anne Marie said coolly. "You always have that little twitch at the corner of your lip when you're about to say something you regret." She pointed briefly at the offending corner. "You've yet to notice how adept I've become at avoiding it myself and steering it away from others. It's a little funny, you know. Surely we can find some agreeable sort of company, or at least something that will lead us to the you-know-what."


Kieran raised an eyebrow when Yasmin abandoned her question. Even worse, she called him her second captain. Well that just wouldn't do. If it weren't for the past month or so with Colin he had half a mind to put her right about who was second...but he'd get no enjoyment out of that now, and more's the pity. Instead he took her hand and led her to the floor with a glance back at Colin.

"My dear," he said smoothly as he put a hand on her back, "you should know several things about me. First is that I am second to no one. Second is that I always lead, whether on the floor, at the window, on the couch, or elsewhere." Kieran led her across the floor deftly enough, though still not with the practiced ease Professor Swift had wanted and expected of him after so many long hours learning to dance 'properly.' "So here on your brother's business then? I take it you haven't seen any of our, ah, mutual friends hanging about, have you?"
 
A commotion at the entrance caught Professor Swift's eye, distracting him ever so slightly from the waltz. Two of the security guards - well-dressed apparent gentlemen who nearly blended in - were emphatically speaking to a figure he couldn't quite make out at his angle. Changing direction a little, he steered Anne Marie along a paththat would give him a better look. Nit that he could see much, still. A figure in a grey overcoat, wearing a large-brimmed hat and... and...

And a featureless mask.

"My dear," he said suddenly, breaking out of the rhythms of the dance and taking Anne Marie's arm, "I feel a touch warm." He began to walk towards the large French doors at the opposite side of the hall. "Perhaps a touch of fresh air. Now."


"Oh, but of course we should all be so lucky, my dear Erik," Greta simpered, resting her fingers lightly on his chest. "Such closeness is wonderful!"

Sam stared at that hand, as if memorizing every line and crease and the placement of the costly rings on her thick fingers. She could feel the blood pounding in her veins, making her head throb as her vision contracted to that singke point of contact. If this uppity Kraut bitch thought for one moment that...

A soft crackling sound caught her attention, breaking the spell of jealousy-driven fury. She'd only ever heard one thing make a sound like that before, and ignoring Greta she whirled in the direction of the sounds of excitement from the interest. Not party excitement, she knew. The excitement of spreading panic and confusion.

The source was obvious. A figure in an overcoat and hat and blank mask stood, one arm raised, the barrel of a heat ray strapped to his firearm. Her skin crawled at the sight, remembering the blank, empty features she'd seen beneath similar masks. "Erik," she hissed, grabbing his arm and pulling him back a little. "A Machine-Man!"



Colin sipped at a flute of champagne and watched Kieran dance with Yasmine. A combination of her flirtations and the quick sex in the limosine and the alcohol made him idly consider the prospects of persuading her to join them in bed later in the evening. Hehad a taste for both sexes, after all, even if Kieran did not. And...

The crackle of a heat ray scattered his thoughts. He looked around, tossing his drink aside as he did. There. Over by the...

Before he could finish the thought, the sounds of shattering glass filled the air. Masked, gauntleted forms stepped through broken windows, surrounding the gathering with upraised heat guns. "You will surrender," demanded an emotionless voice. "All of you are prisoners of the Wings of Silence."
 
Anne Marie noticed the change of course and her eyebrows furrowed briefly but she went along. They turned together and her eyes widened a little when she saw what he had. Wordlessly she went with him towards the French doors, giving her fellow agents significant looks as she passed whether she managed to catch their eye or not. There was no time to wait until she had. They were only a few feet from the doors when the windows in them shattered. Anne Marie threw up her arms to shield her face and a shard only barely missed taking her eye. She stepped back, her shoes crunching over the broken glass, and took Algie's hand. They were armed, of course, but they'd been expecting this to be a reconnaissance mission; her intelligence hadn't told her the Wings of Silence would show up tonight. And the trick would be to draw their weapons without drawing attention to themselves. They were, after all, machines and likely much quicker than she.

The Machine-Men stepped off of the low ledges and inside and she couldn't help but yelp a little and jump back a step. Conduct unbecoming of a member of the Society, she knew, but Madame LaMonte was almost never surprised. It was an unpleasant change. Leaning in she whispered to Professor Swift,

"I've two heat guns. I know Samantha and the Captains each have at least one but I don't know whether Erik thought to bring anything." Her lips moved quickly and she kept her voice only just above a breath, turning her face in to Professor Swift's neck in case the abominations were capable of reading lips. "Twenty at the windows, seven at each door, at least two already in the crowd. Orders?" Anne Marie looked up at him. Professor Algernon Swift's perfect little soldier. It didn't matter that she'd actually been enjoying herself for a few moments; this was business, and business meant saving lives.


When Gerta put her fingers on his chest Erik stiffened a little and noticed how Sam did too. He squeezed her arm gently, trying to remind her that breaking a society lady's fingers at a very public party was poor form. He heard the crackling when she did and squeezed the Ranger's arm a little harder. He still had nightmares about the fetid flesh behind those masks, the blank eyes living but lifeless, and that sinister crackling sound. Erik woke up in a cold sweat from those dreams and, after wiping the sweat from his face with a damp cloth, always crept back into bed and held Sam a little closer while trying to forget the time that scar on her ribs almost wasn't just a scar.

"Excuse us, Gerta, I think I've just spotted a friend of ours," he said calmly just as Sam pulled him back and hissed in his ear. "Yes I saw," he whispered back, leading her quickly away from the bar. There was a door--it wasn't the front door, but led to another room--that he was steering her toward. They'd been here for information gathering and most certainly weren't combat-ready. "They're like cockroaches, Schatze: where you see one there are twenty more hiding somewhere. I suggest we leave. Quickly."

It wasn't a suggestion. Fifteen feet from the door Erik reflexively ducked at the sound of shattering glass and when he'd straightened there were more Machine-Men at the door he'd been heading for. Schiesse! Craning his neck he looked around for Professor Swift for real this time, wondering whether to fight or to come quietly as their prisoners and work on breaking out from there. He had a heat gun of course, but only one and he still wasn't very good with it. He knew he would be of better use formulating an escape plan.


Kieran bantered with Yasmine, beginning to actually enjoy himself. The damnable female was usually an inconvenient nuisance but with the champagne and the general atmosphere of the evening she almost felt like a friend. There was a crackle of a heat ray and a shattering of glass, and the pirate ducked and pulled her down, shielding her body with his more out of instinct than anything. A few bits of glass bounced off of his coat but he was too far from the windows for anything to be damaged. Slowly he straightened as one of the Machine-Men informed them that they were all prisoners of the Wings of Silence.

"Don't do anything rash," he murmured to Yasmine, firming his grip on her arm. "Just follow my lead." The Wings of Silence had lured her brother to the catacombs and murdered him in front of her; if he were in her place he'd have gone in guns blazing, which was exactly the way to get everyone in the room killed. Erik and Sam were across the room and a flutter of panic rose in his chest when he saw Professor Swift and Madame LaMonte standing only feet from the ones at the window. He looked over to catch Colin's eye. What were they going to do? This was a very large wrinkle in their plan, but fortunately they were all together.
 
"Orders?" Professor Swift's voice was casual, seemingly as unconcerned as if he ware discussing the weather. As he spoke, he slowly raised both arms as if in surrender. "I am afraid we have no options." As his arms reached shoulder height, fully extended, pale pink rays seemed to lash out from his arms to slash across the two Machine-Men before them. They uttered no cries as they died, collapsing into smoking pieces as the heat beams cut them in half.

He spun, beaming another Machine-Man down with the projectors he'd mounted on his forearms. "We must escape," he continued, "and trust that our team will occupy them for a time. Because, in my personal effects at Herr Schmidt's home, is a device that I believe will disrupt the calculating engines that control them."


Sam was not one for panic or hystrrics, but the sight of so many of the Machine-Men entering the ballroom made her consider it for a moment. She had an extremely clear idea of what would happen if they were captured, after all. And this was a fight against terrible odds, even with everyone there. "Erik," she hissed, crouching and baring one leg to the knee.

"What... what are you doing?" Greta demanded, focusing on the scandalous display.

"Ah'm gettin' mah irons," Sam drawled, wishing she'd been able to strap something heavier to her thighs. The .32 automatic only held five shots, and the tiny heat ray had a dismal effective range. But still, the feel of weapons in her hands restored her confidence.

A little, anyway. There were a lot of the bastards.

Greta was less calm. "Guns? But... what... what is the meaning of this? Who are these people?"

"Ain't hardly people no more," Sam answered, looking around. There were Colin and Kieran, arming themselves as well. And there were Professor Swift and Anne Marie, already firing as they... left? "Erik?" she said, gesturing slightly at the disappearing forms, "tell me y'all reckon they've got a plan."


The heat ray in his hand was a comfort. But, in the face of the number of Machine-Men surrounding the ballroom, Colin rather believed it was more if a security blanket than a practical benefit. Oh, and to make matters worse, the Professor and Madame LaMonte had started shooting, which was escalating the simmering level of panic in the room. The Machine-Men were methodically working to restore a certain amount of order by repeating their demands and striking out at party-goers who approached too near.

"Kieran?" he called, drawing near. "Do you see anywhere we can take cover?" Because he certainly didn't. There were a number of discrete little nooks around the outer wall for private conversations, but the middle of a dance floor held precious little in the way of defensible areas.

"I do," declared Yasmine, slipping away from Kieran. Before either man could stop her, she was pushing through the terrified, milling crowd.

"I think," Colin growled as he moved to follow her, "that we need to keep her on a leash." Pursuing her was difficult, though. Already panicjed by the Machine-Men and startled by Yasmine's passage, the crowd was less than cooperative. So he could only watch with fascinated horror as she walked right up toone of the Machine-Men, a sensation that changed in quality as she accelted something from the automaton. Gloves, and a mask.

Yasmine turned to face them once more, face hidden by a featureless mask enameled crimson. She raised one arm, now encased in crimson gauntlets, and beckoned to them. "Come, my captains," she called. "You need not share the fate of the others. Come, and take a place at the side of the Demon King!"
 
When Professor Swift suddenly cut down the Machine-Men Anne Marie winced in surprise but immediately went for her own weapons strapped to her legs. Women didn't have the luxury of arm mounts in a situation such as this. She cut down two more, then another two, rushing toward the window even as the room began to panic. She ignored the screams behind her as red beams made the room glow, vaguely amused in the back of her mind that she was able to run in heels this high even as she vaulted over the railing into the bushes. She had dived headlong into the backseat, making sure Professor Swift was safely in, before barking the order to drive. That was the first time she felt the pain.

Her brain had known she was hit, of course. But in the interest of self-protection, she assumed, the pain hadn't started until they were safely on the way back to Herr Schmidt's home. She lifted her arm and looked down and winced. A deep red line swiped from her hip up to the side of her breast, searing away the fabric of her dress and melting it to her skin in some places. Anne Marie knew she ought to count her blessings that she'd only been grazed, that she wasn't in any sort of mortal peril, but it was difficult to be grateful through the pain. She'd set her hand on a hot stove before, and this was far worse than that, tracing the contour of her body.

"Samantha and I will match now, non?" she joked grimly, carefully laying her arm across the back of the seat to avoid touching it accidentally. "How will I explain this to my patients? God I must look a sight." And she did. Anne Marie--always carefully coiffed and dressed, perfumed and painted to look like a porcelain doll--lay at an angle in the back seat, hair disheveled, face and arms scored with cuts, skin still smelling cooked. She leaned her forehead against the cool window and carefully dropped her weapons, struggling against the tears of pain welling in her eyes.

"At least I am not dying, hm?" She grimaced but couldn't hold her attempted smile, instead biting her lip. It was one thing to allow herself some humanity, some femininity, at the ballet, but this was precisely what she had been trained for and Algernon would expect better of her in this situation. She wouldn't cry, not because of this. Not in front of him.


Sam crouched and whispered for him and Erik nodded grimly. Pulling back his tuxedo coat he reached for his own heat ray, which was somewhat larger than Sam's but looked entirely too large for his skinny frame. He'd been impressed with his tailor for making it blend in well enough as to not ruin the line of the suit. Gerta began panicking, demanding to know who these people were and what the guns were for. His infinite patience finally snapped.

"Gerta, do us a favor," he said tersely. "Shut up and stay here. Don't get yourself killed, and do whatever we tell you to." Sam gestured to the windows and Erik's heart fell. What were they doing? "They must," he said bemusedly. "They wouldn't just leave. They're not cowards."

But the Machine-Men began to try to restore order and he was jumpy already. One at the door near them took a step closer and Erik found the trigger already pulled before he knew what he was doing. The Machine-Man fell but another was already taking its place. He lowered his weapon but they'd already seen it. They didn't come closer for now, but he felt that eyeless face focused on him.


Kieran pulled Yasmine along, fighting through the crowd to get to Colin. He shook his head when the other captain asked whether there was a place to take cover. "Not without leaving the room," he admitted. He too umbrage to Colin's grousing when Yasmine slipped away. "I tried mate," he argued, also following. Kieran's face dropped in horror when Yasmine turned around to face them in a mask and gauntlets. She offered them a place at her side, but he could only stare. He may be a morally bankrupt pirate, but even he had his limits.

"Why?" was all he could think to say. "I don't...your brother...All for communism? It's a bit extreme..." Kieran wasn't scared, merely shocked. He knew Yasmine and it was difficult to take her as a serious threat, even knowing now that she was the Demon King. He'd flirted with her after all, so how dangerous could she be?
 
Professor Swift glanced at her injury, then locked his own pain away. Fury glittered blackly in his eyes for a moment, rage that these automata had wounded her. But his rage would not turn back time or undo what had been done, and to let slip his mask would threaten her own control. "She is coming along nicely," he said, shifting the hotwired vehicle into drive, "but it will be a long, long time before she is a match for you." He spun the wheel and depressed the acellerator. "And with proper treatment, the scarring need not be extensive or noticable."

More of the Machine-Men were outside, and several moved to intercept the vehicle. The Professor drove one handed, the heat ray on his left arm blazing as he raced towards them. Three fell in smoking fragments, and the fourth failed to evade in time. "My apologies," he murmured as the two passengers were jostled and bounced by the once-human obstacle beneath the tires. "Are you..."

He bit the words off. Of course it would have pained her. But she could bear it. The late, unlamented Master LaMonte had done worse to he - although that was not comforting thought. "We will be at the Schmidt resedence in a matter of moments," he continued, weaving through evening traffic at reckless speed with a cool, detached air. "Will you..." He hesitated again. "If you need me to do so, I can administer codine and have Herr Schultz summon a doctor before returning."


"My brother?" Yasmine - no, the Devil King - laughed. "My brother was a short-sighted coward. He thought of the Machine-Men, my Machine-Med, as tools. Weapons for theoverthrow of the bourgesoise and the creation of a classless proletariot." Her features were hidden behind the blank mask, but her sigh and body language were expressive. "When I told him... he refused to understand. Called me mad!" Laughter likeout of tune bells echoed. "Me!"

Colin glanced at Kieran. "What... what did you tell him?"

The blank mask stared at him. "Can you not guess, my Captain?" Her arm swept out, the motion graceful even with the gauntlet. "The Machine-Men are the proletariot. Without desire for prestige or power, willing to do all that is necessary for the greater good..."

"Beast!"

Colin turned, staring at the dark-haired man with a little postage stamp of a moustache, pushing through the crowd with a drawn revolver. "Filthy ape-woman!" the man barked, raising the pistol. "You dare defile the Fatherland with your animal feet?"

The impassive mask regarded him. "Ah, Herr Hitler. I had hoped your party, at least, would see the wisdomof my creation."

Hitler cocked the revolver. "I see only a beast, playing at being a man!"

She sighed. "Very well." Pink rays played out from the gauntlets of half a dozen Machine-Men. Hitler screamed once, then collapsed as a charcoal and ash statue to shatter on the dance floor. The Devil King shook her head. "A waste. And now, my Captains," she continued lightly, offering her hand, "will you join me? A Queen must have consorts, after all."
 
Anne Marie couldn't help but smile, however briefly, at the compliment. Professor Swift sped down the drive, demolishing Machine-Men as he went. She let out an involuntary yelp as he swerved along the drive and ran over one of the automatons. She had to grab onto the back of the seat to avoid falling to the floor, stretched out as she was, making the pain worse as she had to grab with her bad arm. Algie apologized over his shoulder and began to ask whether she was hurt, but she shook her head and waved him off.

"I'm fine," she insisted through gritted teeth, blinking away a fresh wave of tears as her body twisted and melted cloth pulled at her raw skin. Professor Swift wove through traffic gracefully and Madame LaMonte spent the ride picking broken glass from her arms and face as best she could. "I'm not sitting this out for a little burn," she said when he offered to let her stay home, sounding much tougher than she felt. He must have been truly concerned for her to give her a pass like that. "We'll need all of us. With any luck the others will keep control of the crowd and no one else will have been hurt."

At the Heinz-Schmidt Manor Anne Marie made a beeline for the parlor where she threw back several shots of whiskey in a very unladylike manor. Shuddering and shaking her head vigorously she looked to her mentor. "That ought to numb the pain for now," she informed him, already feeling her shoulders tighten as the warmth spread down her body though she was still in a good deal of pain. "Tell me what you need me to do, Professor."


Kieran blinked up at Yasmine. There was only one thing he could do. With a glance at Colin he stepped forward and took her hand before stepping over to face Colin. He tried not to look at his face, or that of Sam and Erik. It was the only thing he could think of as he looped his arm with hers.

"Coward!" It took all of the control Erik could muster not to pull the trigger. Even if he did manage to hit Yasmine there were still more than a dozen Machine-Men to strike him down instantly, but Kieran...it was only through years of working closely with him that his heat ray wasn't even aimed at him. The pirate shrugged.

"It's time to face the future, Rick," he said calmly. His hand worked slowly, carefully, as stealthily as he could to loosen Yasmine's gauntlet.
 
"What do I need you to do?" Professir Swift echoed, hesitating. Stay here, his mind whispered as he looked at the burns. "Wait here," he finally said, heading for the stairs. "Wait here, and be ready to drive." With that, he headed up towards the second floor two steps at a time. Less than five minutes passed a d he was returning, carrying a brass and leather trunk in his arms.

"I need you to drive," he repeated, heading for the door. "Because I'll need a few minutes to set this equipment up, and I need both hands." He refused to let himself think of the difficulty of what he demanded of her, because what was her comfort - or his life - to the safety of England? Of the world, perhaps?

The thought rang hollow.

"Come along, Anne Marie," he grunted, pressing the chest against the wall with his hip so he could hold the door for her in an absurdly chivalric gesture. "Needs must, and so on. Besides..." He cracked a mild smile. "We musn't keep the children waiting."


Sam nearly killed him on the spot, and it was only an instinct for self-preservation that saved Kieran's life. But, after the first flush of rage, she made herself think. Really think. Kieran was a bastard and a pirate, but he'd had other opportunities to betray the Society before. So, why would he choose now? Because the odds were bad? Horseshit. The man loved a good scrap with bad odds.

She smiled, just a little, and caught Colin's eye. They looked at each ither for a moment, and he nodded ever so slightly. "Are there no men here?" she snapped suddenly, looking around. "Has so much German blood spilled in France that none remains?" As a Ranger she'd talked lynch mobs down. Niw she needed to apply the same skills in reverse. So, swallowing bile as she considered her next words, she continued. "Herr Hitler was a man! Are there no other men in Germany?"

From what Erik had said, he sounded like he was actually a piece of shit. But inciting a mob didn't need facts. She glared around, watching the assembeled gentry shuffle. "Cower, then, before these machines!" Her arm seemed to blur as her heat ray came up. "But I will not!"

There was a crackling hiss, and the front of Sam's dress exploded into flame. She gurgled in pain and collapsed to her knees, clutching her gut. Colin stood by the Devil King, pistol raised. "Weak," he sneered. "Like the rest of these German swine."
 
God she needed another drink! Anne Marie tossed back brandy this time as she did what she was told and waited for Professor Swift to return. When he did it was with a ridiculously unwieldy-looking trunk. She couldn't help but smile when he held the door for her despite his hands being full, and the smile grew wider when he insisted they not keep "the children" waiting.

"Mais oui," she agreed, stepping through the door with slightly more spring in her step after imbibing so much so quickly. "If they haven't managed to burn the place to the ground by now. Captain Drake was a bit keen on the champagne..."

Without trouble Madame LaMonte hotwired the car just as her colleague had done and sped through the streets of Berlin. With the gas pedal pressed all the way to the floor she wove expertly through traffic. The pain in her side had been dulled by the booze but was still enough to throb painfully each time she turned the wheel. Still, at least she was no longer on the verge of tears. Nearly back to the chancellery it occurred to her that the trunk would be too unwieldy for Algernon to get it inside in any reasonable amount of time and without being seen. She would have to...oh dear. But it was such a nice car...

"Hold on, cher," she warned through gritted teeth as they neared the building. There was a bump as she cleared the curb of the driveway.

~*~

Erik flushed when Sam praised Hitler as a "man." He knew she didn't mean it but that didn't make it any less infuriating to hear. Then her dress burst into flame and it was only having to help put her out that kept him from launching himself at Colin bodily. Sam was many things but an actress wasn't usually among them; she was likely actually hurt. He cradled her against his chest, checking for any sort of wound or burns and making plans to strangle the officers later. If there was a later.

Kieran hated himself even as he laughed at the scene. Hopefully Sam wasn't actually hurt, but those had been real flames at the hem of her dress. Finally he got the last clasp undone and just as the gauntlet fell to the ground he grabbed Yasmine's wrist firmly and twisted it around her back painfully. His gun went under her chin as an incentive not to use her remaining gauntlet in a way which might be considered imprudent.

"You nearly blast my ship out of the sky you crazy cunt," he growled in her ear. "What the fuck makes you think I'd ever join a nutter like you? Don't move!" the pirate added to the Machine Men, turning to make a human shield out of Yasmine. "Do as I say or she dies!"

He opened his mouth to say more, but just at that moment there was a shrieking shatter as a car burst through the enormous wall of windows which looked out into the front lawn. Madame LaMonte slumped behind the steering wheel, resting her forehead on it, exhausted from the effort of keeping herself from crying out and trying not to disturb her wounds too much.
 
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