Adventures on the Lost Continent (Midnight Lass x Blood Red Romeo)

“It’s an honor to meet you, Dr. Motwani” he said, taking her hand in his and giving her a firm shake. Unlike many people, he had no problems with a female doctor or women in positions of power. It wasn’t really from an enlightened position that this belief came from, but a practical one. If he was bleeding out and desperately needed surgery to live, he wasn’t about to make his choice of savior based on what was between their legs. He had dismissed a woman as inferior before, and he had a deep scar on his abdomen to remind him how wrong he had been.

“I’m glad to hear only my best stories have been told. These two have both told me about you, and both sing your praises,” he told her before he began to get to the point. “I don’t know how much Miharu has told you, but I am in the process of planning an expedition into the interior of the lost continent, deeper than any known crew has gone before. My initial goal was to recruit Doc -excuse me- Dr. Cummings to be my crew’s medic. However, that no longer seems,” he paused, glancing back to look at man correctly drinking from his second glass of bourbon, “practical,” he finished, not wanting to oust the disease in front of Miharu.

“However, these two have given me what I think is an even better idea. I was at first only going to ask that you help us stock up our medical stores, but how would you like to come on board? It would be chance to see the lost continent’s flora in person. Who knows what sort of diseases you’d be able to cure?” He didn’t know if he was being too subtle, but he hoped she picked up on what he was implying. If she went with him, they might be able to find a cure for Doc’s Chimera’s Bite. “Does that sort of adventure interest a woman such as yourself?”
 
Ayisha breathed a barely noticeable sigh of relief at the way Orson deftly avoided mentioning Doctor Cummings real condition. Ayisha had been treating Doctor Cumming's condition since it had been diagnosed for Chimera Bite, and she had become fond of the older man, thinking of him as a second father. The fact that Doctor Cumming had been one of the few of the staff who didn't have a problem with the fact that was a woman and wasn't European didn't seem to bother him in the least.

And if Doctor Cummings didn't want his condition advertised beyond the necessary medical circle, Ayisha would respect the older man's wishes. The unfortunate fact of the situation was, that in the final stage of Chimera Bite, there would be visible signs of the disease on Doctor Cummings face, hand, and any other part of the body normally visible to a casual observer.

But for now, Ayisha would respect Doctor Cumming's wishes.

Ayisha was momentarily lost in her thoughts about Doctor Cumming, so she was caught off guard by Orson's offer to join his expedition. Her first thought was to turn him down without consideration. But then he talked about curing diseases. And she knew exactly which disease he was talking about.

Miharu didn't give Ayisha a chance to object. "I think that is an excellent suggestion, Captain James. Doctor Motwani has been with me more than once to Kuri, and has proven invaluable. In addition, at Doctor Cumming's request, I have taught her to defend herself more effectively."

"And in exchange for these lessons, I've taught Miharu to be a very effective corpswoman," Ayisha answered, which caused Miharu to blush and give a small bow of her head.

Doc Cumming had set his drink down, looking as if he didn't know how to respond to Orson's offer. In his heart of hearts, though, Doc knew Orson's idea to be a thin hope at best, and didn't want to see Ayisha throw her life away on a fool's errand.

But before Doc could voice his objection, Ayisha got her mouth working again.

"I'd like to consider your offer before giving you an answer, Captain James. In the meantime, though, I can take a look at your ship's sickbay and medical stores, and make some suggestions. If that's okay with you?"
 
“Of course. You’re welcome to investigate to your heart’s content. I’ll warn you now, it’s a bit bare bones,” he answered, laughing at the true state of the stores in his mind. “Miharu, deck 17. Here’s my key,” he said, tossing the piece of metal to the Japanese girl. “Go on ahead without me. I need to speak with Doc for a bit,” he informed them.

Once they were gone, Orson reached for the glass poured for him and downed the entire thing. Then he really turned towards him. “Stay alive,” he said, sounding like an order more than anything. “We’ll look for a cure. I can’t promise we’ll succeed, but the longer you live, the more time we have. Hell, you could come on board as a patient. It’d make it easier to test.”

He knew it wasn’t the most exciting or thrilling proposal, but he was certain it might just be his best chance and getting our of this alive. “What do you say?”
 
"Orson," Doc began, setting down his tumbler. "I appreciate the thought. I really do. But I've come to peace with what's going to happen. And, as far as being a passenger, the final stage of Chimera Bite isn't that pleasant to be for anyone, particularly the patient. My last days are going to be best spent here in the hospital. And my corpse will have the best change of contributing something if it's studied here. So go have your adventure. And don't put yourself in harm's way trying to find a cure that may or may not exist.

"And one more bit of advice, Orson," Doc continued, his tone serious. "I assume you were planning to go talk to Crazy Eddie?"
 
Ah, there was that Doc he knew. Really, the man had barely changed. He was just a slightly more dying version of himself. Orson was going to look for that cure, no matter what. Even if it didn’t save Doc, it’d save a bunch more people. But he still wanted to save him.

“Yes, he’s our next stop. After him, we’re going to see Tarloff,” he answered. He knew the two got along. They had too, considering Eddie is the only other one who knew about his condition. Or maybe Eddie had just figured it out on his own. He definitely was capable of that.
 
"Why don't you go talk to Tarloff first?" Doc said. The older man reached in his desk and pulled out a playing card. It was a hand painted three of diamonds, one card torn off, and a few dried spots of blood on it. "Tarloff will get you anything you need for your ship, if you give him this card. Well, equipment wise, anyway. You're still going to have to get your own crew. And I want you to ask Tarloff about Crazy Eddie. My own opinion is prejudiced. And no, I want explain myself on that. Sure I can't interest you in a drink, Orson?" Doc asked, lifting the bottle in Orson's general direction.
 
“Thanks,” Orson said, taking the card from him. He didn’t fully understand what it was, but any help saving money would be appreciated. “I would, but I’ve got more people to recruit and a pair of beautiful ladies to convince. Letting them know how drunk I can get probably won’t turn them to my side,” he explained. “Thanks for everything Doc. For both this,” he said raising the card. “And this,” he added, tapping on his shoulder where Doc had removed the bullet. He walked out of that office knowing full well that it could be the last time he saw Doc. He was young, and while he had been around a decent amount of death, this was an entirely new feeling of helplessness. He hated it.

Miharu and Ayisha were inspecting the pharmacy, and he didn’t want to burn daylight catching up to them. He asked the head nurse for directions to Tarloff’s company. He also sent a message to the dock to be passed along to the girls telling them where to meet him. With that taken care of, he made his way out of the hospital and towards Tarloff’s company. He hoped the many would be able to assist him.
 
Considering that the local branch of Steam and Air Shipping was probably the most far flung office of that conglomerate, one would expect it to be the smallest. Such was not the case. First, there was the fact that the city served as a jumping off point for every expedition to the Lost Continent. Also, the local branch of Steam and Air Shipping had become the de facto research facility for the company. So for the branch operating in a relatively small city, it was a fairly large operation.

The office of the local manager, one Max Tarloff, wasn't a typical office for a manager of a branch of Steam and Air Shipping. For one thing, the business offices were usually located well away from the warehouse and operations. For another, the local branch manager usually had an army of secretaries and assistants between him and the outside world whose primary purposes was to make it as difficult as possible to talk to the branch manager. Max's office overlooked the hangar and warehouse of the local branch, and it could see the company's docked steamships as well. Max did have an army of assistants who kept him abreast of everything happening, but anyone could walk into his office at any time, if they had important business. But anyone who worked for Max for any amount of time knew not to risk his wrath by bringing trivial matters to him.

Max didn't look like a typical business manager as well. He was a short, barrel chested man with thick arms and hands, covered with the scars and burns that came from working on every time of steam vessel known to man, both on and under the waves, as well as in the air. There was nothing delicate about the man either. Every problem that he confronted could be solved by getting the boilers up to pressure and steaming through.

Max was on the phone, cursing someone on the phone, when he saw Orson at the door of his office. "You! Sit!" he barked at Orson, pointing to an overstuffed chair in his office, before he continued swearing at someone at the other end of the phone line.
 
“Nice to see you too,” Orson grumbled as he entered the office, taking the seat ‘offered’ to him. While he wasn’t exactly happy with the treatment, he wasn’t going to make a fuss about it. Tarloff was a hard worker and, judging by the size of the enterprise he was running, a good one. He had always been the gruff type. This type of environment probably only exacerbated that aspect of him.

Orson sat there for a little bit, waiting for the phone call to finish up. He figured that once the call was over, he’d get shouted at about why he was here. In order to expedite the process, he pulled out the card given to him. He held it in an obvious way, not so much that he was flashing it for attention, but enough so that when Tarloff finally paid attention to him, he would see it.
 
Max continued talking on the phone, though he did freeze for a moment when he spotted the card. He nodded once, then continued the conversation for another three minutes, before abruptly telling the person on the other end what needed to be done and to get it done now.

As soon as he finished the call, he hit a button to the clerk's office right outside his own. "Dan, hold all my calls and visitors until I say otherwise."

Max took a seat behind the desk and took a cigar from a box on his desk. He lit it while pushing the box toward Olson in a silent offer to help himself.

After a few puffs to get his own cigar going, Max said, "You know, Olson, I never thought I'd see the day when I met someone who was as big an asshole as me. But flashing a man's last will and testament as casually as you just did takes the prize. Since you're holding Doc's card, I got to assume he's in a bad way. Always thought the bastard would outlive me just to spite me," Max added, a hint of melancholy in his voice. Max produced a decanter of vodka from his desk, pouring a glass for himself, and then one for Olson. "So I'm guessing then Doc's drinking isn't just another bad habit he picked up. Don't tell me," Max interrupted himself, holding up a hand. "Doc'll tell me when he wants to tell me. Since you're holding Doc's card, tell me what you need."
 
“I’m trying to save Doc, though don’t tell him I said that,” Orson explained. He passed on the cigar, not one for smoking unlike the barrel of sin sitting in front of him. He did take the vodka, but was careful with how much he drank. What was it about his former crew mates insisting on him drinking with them? “I’m organizing an expedition to the interior of the lost continent. I’m looking for supplies and a crew. I’m hoping you can do me a favor and get me the first of those.” He wasn’t sure exactly what this card was, though if he had to guess, Tarloff owed Doc in a big way, so the card represented favors. It made Orson really want to know what the first favor had been, but he decided against asking. “And just so you know, I don’t mean interior like ten miles in. I’m talking deep. Farther than even the Clinton survey,” he explained. The Clinton survey was the farthest anyone had ever gone in. Well, gone in and returned from. “You willing to help?”
 
"You brought the card in, didn't you?" Max said with a snort. He took a draw on his cigar, before adding, "Hang on to the card. Maybe you'll get a chance to give it back." Max slammed the vodka back, crushed the cigar out and stood up. "Let's head down to warehouse floor," he said, pointing at the window. "And on the way down, you can tell me what kind of airship you got and what you need to outfit it. This way. Got one of those new Otis elevators down to the floor," Max explained as he led Olson to an alcove in his office.
 
As Max got up, Orson downed the vodka in front of him. He had never liked Tarloff that much, something he imagined the man knew. Not many people liked him. Luckily, like and respect weren’t mutually exclusive. Still, Orson did feel like he’d need to be a bit less sober to tolerate this meeting. With the clear liquid now testing his liver, Orson followed.

“It’s the new HK-3 model,” he explained. “Armor plating, segmented balloon, everything you could want. It’s light and fast. Wouldn’t do much good in a fire fight, but it’d be able to escape, which is kind of the point,” Orson continued. “As to what I need, it’s the classics. Food, alcohol, basic medical supplies like bandages and splints, rope, hooks, machetes, things of that nature. Some fancy baubles to serve as gifts if I encounter natives would be good. And I’ll never say no to extra guns and bullets,” he listed. He wondered how big of a fit this would elicit.
 
"If you're going deep in the interior, you'll want to be able to give a static charge off that plating," Max mused as he led Orson into the elevator. He motioned at the buttons on the panel. "Automated floor selector. Don't need someone to run the elevator. Something we came up with here. That asshole Edison would give his left nut to have the patents to half the things we have here, but fuck that patent thief." Max pushed the button marked F. The elevator gave a little jump, then began its descent.

"The HK-3 has a decent enough chronometer, but you could do better. Not with what's on the market, but the Clinton expedition showed us how vulnerable instrumentation can be. And we got something to fill up your air sacks. American geologist by the name of Hogsworth. Hamsworth,. Something like that. He found that helium can be found in some natural gas deposits, and we ran with the ball."

As soon the elevator door opened, Max was yelling again. "You!" he shouted at a visibly startled warehouse worker. "Follow him around," Max said, pointing to Orson. "Show him the warehouse, take notes what he needs. Where are the twins?"

"In the second laboratory, Mr. Tarloff," the startled man said.

"I'll be back," Max said, his Austrian accent sounding particularly heavy when he said that. "Tell Tyler what you want. We'll send it to your ship. I might have some extras you'll be interested in." With that, Max stormed off.

"Tyler Jennings," the thin, nervous young man Max had left in his wake said, extending his hand. "How can I help you, sir?"
 
Edison was something of an asshole. It had been Orson’s great displeasure to work for him briefly on a job about three years ago. He may not like Tarloff, but he was good at what he did and had earned Orson’s respect plenty of times over. Edison? The prick couldn’t get either, no matter how much he may try to buy it.

“Captain Orson James,” he greeted, shaking the man’s hand while putting on the friendliest business smile that he had. It couldn’t be easy or relaxing working for Max. He didn’t want to push the poor man too hard. He proceeded to list off the same things he had told Max earlier. He had to do a bit of mental math trying to figure out how much food to ask for. He was going for a light crew, his ship wasn’t built for more than twelve to fifteen people. Plenty of storage space though. He decided to highball it, just in case of a worst case scenario. Plus, he’d rather take too much food and piss off Tarloff than too little and die. “Twelve people, three months,” he explained. He also added in what Tarloff had mentioned, plus extra plating in case some of the armor got damaged. Then he listed off the small things that were needed. Camping equipment, hunting gear, papers and pens, body bags (just in case), and other little amenities.

“So, Tyler, any idea what these extras Tarloff has? I’m curious to know what you guys have come up with,” Orson asked as the man continued to write. He didn’t expect Tarloff to be so accommodating, not that Orson would complain.
 
Tyler shrugged. "It could be anything," the man said, trotting behind Orson as the two walked through the warehouse. Tyler jotted down a note as Orson pointed to something else in the warehouse he wanted. "Mr. Tarloff isn't the most congenial man," Tyler said quietly, his eyes darting around at the fear of being overheard for speaking this truth. "But he has had a lot of experience working on any airship ever made. And he has...I don't know if the word friends would be the word to use...but other engineers and inventors always want his opinion, and want to work on any project he has going. Mr. Tesla flies down here at least once a month. So it could be anything. And plus, he has the Twins. They're absolutely brilliant."
 
That sounded like Max. Always ready to critique. Great for those who wanted it. He’d get along well with the scientific crowd. He knew of Tesla, though he had never met the man. However, what really interested him was the mention of these Twins. “Who are they?” Orson asked. He couldn’t think of any famous twins, but then again he didn’t follow the major figures of engineering. He was more occupied with his own fields of expertise. Then he thought he saw Tarloff coming back, pretty sure that would shut Tyler up pretty quickly.
 
"They're wards of Mr. Tarloff's," Tyler explained. "One's brilliant with navigation, computation devices, that sort of things. The other knows the mechanics, propulsion, electricity, hydraulics. Both of them work with those vacuum tubes. Have you heard of those devices?"

Tyler didn't have a chance to answer, as Tarloff walked around the corner with with two overall clad women, one on each side of him. Like Tarloff, the two young women, obviously twins, weren't overly tall, but it was obvious that they didn't share the stocky build of their guardian.

Both women wore their hair in long, twin braids and, despite being clad in bulky overalls and covered with grease on their hands and face, it was obvious they were both, in the lingo of the day, "lookers."

"It would probably be best if you didn't take undue notice of the Twins, if you know what I mean," Tyler said, as the trio stopped about twenty feet away from Tyler and Orson, involved in some animated debate.
 
Orson leaned in towards Tyler to whisper. “Too late,” he said with a smirk. He liked beautiful women. Even if they were the third and fourth ones he had seen today, it didn’t diminish the joy of looking at them. However, Orson didn’t just sit back and admire. He had work to do and no amount of gorgeous views would stop him for long.

He walked towards the group, taking the time try and overhear what they were talking about. Still, he wouldn’t be too slow. “Tarloff,” he said as he approached the trio, “your man and I have finished going over most of the preparations, but I still want to see what those extras you mentioned were.” When he got close, he turned to the women. “You must be the brilliant twins I’ve heard about. I’m captain Orson James. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
 
Max gave Orson an irritated look at being interrupted but, in fairness, Max gave everyone an irritated look anytime they interrupted him. Or when they didn't interrupt him.

Let's be honest, Max was irritated with any individual he had to interact with, though he seemed less irritated with his wards than he was with the rest of the world.

"Captain Orson James, these are my charges, Cimona de la Vega," Max began, nodding to the girl on his right, "And Ninah de la Vega."

"A pleasure, to meet you, Captain James," Cimona began, "We were just discussing ---"

"---the possibility of adding a radio direction finder on your ship," Nineh continued, "since we have---"

"---a transmitter here at the warehouse, which we've been using on a few of our airships. We could also see---"

"---about electrifying your armor plate. Charging would be easy, utilizing---"

"---dormant atmospheric charges. We could possibly install an analytical engine, especially since---"

"---we have an experimental tripartite vacuum tube, which has helped in miniaturizing. Is that my specialty or yours?" one twin asked the other.

"Yours," the other twin answered, and the two gave each other a definitive nod, before turning their gazes back on Orson.

"Why don't you two go give Captain James' airship a quick once over and make a list of suggestions, while I have a talk with him back in the office." There was definitely a reduced gruffness to Max's voice when he talked to the twins. "If that's okay with you, Orson," Max added.
 
Orson couldn’t help but have a small grin on his face. These twins were absolutely adorable and beautiful. And brilliant. And did he mention beautiful? He was fairly smitten with them already. This must have been when Tyler was warning against. That or the fact that getting with either of them meant getting skinned alive by Max. Or both. He was going to guess both.

“Be my guest. I’ve run some tests myself already and the records are in the Captain’s quarters. Nothing too rigorous, but it might save you some time,” he answered them, doing his best to be a gentleman. “Oh, two other potential crew members are there right now. So just tell them what you’re there for if you run into them.” He didn’t want them thinking they were intruders. Tragically, he had to see them leave, but even in overalls, it was amazing to watch them go.

Meanwhile, Oraon and Tarloff returned to the elevator to go to the office. “I gotta say, seeing this in person is even more impressive. He’ll of place you got here,” Orson commented. It was true and he did want to compliment him, not just as a way of appeasing him if he noticed how much he had been eyeing his wards. And he would know that even if he liked to look, Orson wasn’t the type to force a woman. “Almost makes me want to work for you. Almost.”
 
"Hmmmph," Max said with a grunt. "I'd offer you the job of piloting one of our airborne test beds, but I know you got your heart set on this expedition of yours. Which leads me to my first question. Who are the two potential crew members you've got? You said crew members, and not crewmen," Max observed, "which makes me think at least one of them, if not both, are female. And you said two other potential crew members, which makes me think you're wanting to recruit Cimona and Nineh, which I haven't figured out how I feel about yet."
 
“Does anything get past you?” Orson jokingly asked as he thought through the best answer. “The first is Miharu. She’s a serving girl for Dandy. One of the best fighter’s I’ve ever seen. I’ll need someone around in case things get hairy. She’s perfect. The other is Ayisha, a surgeon and botanist that works with Doc. Her knowledge of natural medicine could save lives if we don’t have the manufactured stuff,” he explained. He wanted to make sure Max knew he wanted them for more than just eye candy.

“As to your second question, yes. I do want to recruit them. I don’t know what to expect out there, but from what I hear, your girls are some of the best. If something goes wrong, I might need the best to get out of there alive,” Orson continued. “I plan on making this expedition a success. For that, I need exceptional people.”
 
"I know Miharu," Max said with a grunt. "Dandy's little girl. Kick your ass and mine without breaking a sweat or spilling a beer. Doctor Motwani does consulting for us. Primarily for our pharmaceutical stocks, but she's a good physician and helps us figure out the best way to transport the by-o-logicals." Max took a cigar from his desk's box and chewed on it silently for a minute. "You can ask Cimona and Nineh. Hell, they probably got the idea in their head already. I'll be expecting them back, though. Either that or your balls in their place. And remember, as far as this island is concerned I am Steam and Air. Which means the governor, the mayor and the police chief jump when I tell them to."

Max chewed the unlit cigar before adding, "But I don't expect that to be a problem with you. So my big question is, you're going to be looking for someone who can read the ruins and tell you what gold idols you want to bring back and which ones you don't. So you got any ideas about who you'll be looking for?"
 
“They don’t come back, you get my ship and everything on it, me included,” he said, sounding completely serious. He meant it, too. If he and Miharu couldn’t protect their engineers in such a small crew, he had no business being a captain. Though he could only dread what sort of nightmare Max would put him through if that did come to pass. Still, that promise would serve as extra motivation.

“Crazy Eddie,” he responded right away. The man was reckless, but excellent at his work. “I don’t know if he’ll come himself, but I’m sure he can point me towards the next best choice,” Orson explained. “Unless you’ve got a better idea. I’m all ears then.” He’s still go to Eddie, but he’d consider bringing along Max’s man as well, just as insurance and to placate his potential crewmates’ ward.
 
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