This ones come a little later, because school has started again. But fret not — come Friday, I'll have allll the time in the world. :)

Alys: I swear, I'm hiding from you, cookies or not. You know exactly what I'm thinking!

queerquail: Well, yes, it does. In German, 'eroberung' means 'conquest'.

Revolution
Chapter 12

"Freedom suppressed and again regained bites with keener fangs than freedom never endangered."
- Cicero

Skinner had never been so glad to be on solid ground as he was now. In fact, he wanted to roll around in the mud in sheer glee.

As it was, though, he had to be content with lying on his back on the ground of one of the Underground's safehouses. Tom sat nearby, watching him as he stared up at the warehouse ceiling.

"It feels good to be back on land," Skinner announced, sitting up. Tom smiled at him in the dim light.

Outside the abandoned warehouse, the sun was setting, and its elongated rays were cast upon the face of the revolutionary leader, who smiled at his friend.

"Yeah, it is," he agreed, stretching his arms. They were alone in this part of the warehouse. He sat with his back to a wall of the large place, knees drawn up to his chest, seemingly at home. "Especially after you've been hanging a hundred feet in the air for what feels like eternity."

Skinner snorted, sitting cross-legged. "You try doing that while going down from high in the heavens, and then we'll talk!" Tom laughed.

"Alright, you win," he laughed, then sobered. "Hey, Skinner?"

"Aye?"

"Thanks for coming for me," Tom said, sincerity in his voice. The invisible man shook his head, the trilby shaking from side to side.

"Don't thank me," Skinner answered. "Thank that Damon of yours. He contacted Nemo, who found us League members before we'd even heard of your arrest." Tom nodded. He knew to be thankful for the loyal friends he had.

"So," Skinner said, after a comfortable silence between the two old friends, "Tell me 'bout this meeting Damon was talking about, and those who're attending. It seems like a big event."

Tom nodded. "The largest we've had in many years. It involves the Underground's top, and the captain you met just now" — he nodded in the general direction of the rest of the warehouse, where the airship's crew and captain were — "his name is Robur. He's from our Russian branch, our first international cell. He'd contacted Sam Masters in 1903 to arrange a cell there, and now it's huge."

"The ship we were on is called the Albatross," Tom continued. "It's the Nautilus of the air. Robur is the commander of a large fleet of such ships, and they're better than Dante's Aerial Attack Force. You may recall the summer three years ago, when dark shapes were reported in the clouds. Those were his airships."

"There're others, of course," Tom said. "Dr. Nikola, Sue, Percy, Ahab, Black, AJ, and Joe. (#3)"

"Oh, do tell," Skinner said. "Nikola's name is familiar."

"I'm not surprised if it is," Tom nodded. "He was active long before the war. He was a crime lord in London, and you may have seen him. He has a big black cat with him. He comes from our African bases, and the rest of the Underground knows him as the Duque Black. Then there's Sue. She's the only woman of us; her real name is Fah Lo Suee. You know of the Devil Doctor, Fu Manchu, right?"

Know him? Fu Manchu was a legend in the underworld. "He's a legend, Tom; 'course I know him!"

Tom nodded again. "She's his daughter, and she's in charge of most of Asia. We all call her Sue; it's easier for us to pronounce, but her codename is the Countess Roseate. She's one of our youngest leaders. Asia has ground troops. They attack Dante's weapons factories and modify them to work better."

"Percy Blakeney is also known as the Scarlet Pimpernel and the Marquis Carmine. He's located in South America. His branch of the Underground's also known as the League of the Scarlet Pimpernel; they're famous, 'cause whenever he rescues people, he sends a piece of paper with a small, red flower — the scarlet pimpernel — to Dante's viceroy. His wife went with him when I sent him there, but a few years ago she was captured and charged with high treason." Tom's mood became grim. "Marguerite was executed with the guillotine."

It was ironic, really. The guillotine, despite its long history, was being used against the revolutionaries when in the French Revolution, it had been used to get rid of the aristocrats. Marguerite Blakeney had been adamant about banning the use of it, and her husband's small fortune helped move the authorities there a little.

"He's never really gotten over her death," Tom said to his friend. There was a short pause as Tom gathered his thoughts. "We have Lord Teal, or Captain Ahab. His ship is called the Pequod. I think Ishmael — yeah, the one who died in Venice — once served under him, although I'm not sure (#1). He has a fleet of ships, most of them being whalers. Their base is in Australia. He lost a leg in an encounter with a sperm whale, and he's a little obsessed with finding it and killing it."

"Has been for years, I reckon," Skinner piqued. The American nodded.

"Then there's AJ Raffles, or just AJ. We call him Lord Chrome. He takes care of the rest of Europe for me. He lost his best friend to Dante," Tom said, a shadow crossing his boyish features, "In the raid of 1905. That was just after I appointed him as my viceroy."

He shifted, one knee drawn to his chest, the other stretched out before him. "The Victome de Cerulean is Captain Black. He has another fleet of ships up in Greenland. He's short, wears black, and smokes cigars like an iron ore plant. Our main base for naval repairs is commanded by him, and he recently outfitted his ships with a new kind of cannon that fire bullets, not cannonballs."

"And there's Joe." A ghost of a smile came to Tom's face. "He's an old friend of mine, Joe Harper, from St. Petersburg. He's also known as Comte Heliotrope. He's our American liaison. I'm the Black Duke, as you know," he finished, "and Damon's the Baron de Greene."

Skinner nodded. "So all of the Underground's head honchos are in town for what kind of meeting, exactly?"

"We meet to discuss whether to lead the world into the revolution we've been planning. It's been like this for years. I don't think anyone's noticed, but over the past year or so, we've been stepping up attacks on Dante's weapons facilities. It's been to make sure that he can't get replacement weapons quickly."

Damon bandaged Owen's arm, as the boy yelped in pain. A bullet had ricocheted off the building next to Owen's, and it had grazed his arm.

"Be thankful it didn't cut too deep," Damon told Owen. "Or else we might have to stitch it up."

In truth, Damon felt guilty. He had been afraid of this, afraid of the children getting hurt. Owen had been the only one injured, thank goodness. The other children only had some scrapes here and there when they had escaped through the manholes and into the sewers along with the others involved in the rescue operation.

Dr. Jekyll was in the corner of the Underground's main cavern, treating Nemo's men. The stoic captain stood to the side of the cavern, with the signal apparatus, talking to the men back on the Nautilus.

"But it hurts," Owen whined.

"Of course it does," Damon answered, putting the finishing touches on the bandage. "It's a bullet wound. There." He finished the bandaging, and patted Owen's arm lightly. "How does it feel?"

The boy moved his arm. "I'll live, I reckon."

Damon nodded. "Good. Now, go check on the other kids. If there are any injuries..."

"...I'll bring 'em to see you or Dr. J, aye," Owen said, hopping off the supply crate he had been sitting on. "Thanks!" He called over his shoulder as he went off to find the other children.

Damon couldn't help but chuckle. The kids referred to Jekyll as 'Dr. J', much to his exasperation. Hyde had become 'Mr. H', much to the beast's amusement when he heard the whispered words between the street children.

Nemo was walking over to him. Damon straightened from his squatting position. "Any news, Captain?"

The Indian nodded. "The Nautilus reports that the Albatross escaped safely, with Skinner and Tom hanging from the rope ladder. They lost sight of the airship as it passed through some clouds. They expect word from Captain Robur anytime now in regards to the condition of the Albatross' crew."

Damon understood, and approved. Robur would send word, and soon. He was the Nemo of Russia, after all. "Thank you, Captain. I'm sure Tom would appreciate your help."

Nemo inclined his head slightly. "Tom is a friend. The League stays by its friends."

"I understand, Captain. It is the same here, in the Underground."

"Then we do have something in common after all."

"We've always had something in common, Captain: we're freedom fighters."

The headlines were full of the Black Duke's escape from the gallows. The words 'Underground Leader Escapes Death!' and 'Extraordinary Escape' were splashed across dozens of newspapers, not that anyone needed to be told.

Old Quarter was rife with talk. Now that the Black Duke's real identity had been discovered, authorities and common folk alike were rushing to find out just who this Thomas Sawyer was. Where did he come from? Was he from England or Edinburgh as he had claimed? Did anyone know him?

On reflection, it was all very amusing, really.

Dr. Nikola closed the newspaper and set it down on the table, and it joined its other counterparts there. Leaning back in his seat, Nikola watched as his cat leapt off his shoulder lightly and onto the table.

"Ah, the resourcefulness of the Black Duke and his men never ceases to surprise me," Nikola said. To a casual observer he would have been speaking to himself, as there was no one else in the hotel room save the cat. "Does it you, Mistoffelees?" (#2)

The cat meowed in reply. It understood what Nikola and the rest of the world said, and from its perch on his shoulder it had been reading the news with him. Nikola scratched the back of one ear, and Mistoffelees purred in approval as it settled down on the table, its sleek black body gleaming in the evening light.

The two companions sat like this for some time, as the sun outside the hotel set and darkness descended upon London. There was a frenzied manhunt for Tom going on; the sounds of the search parties could be heard from the street below.

"Fools," Nikola said softly. "Fools. Do they really think the Black Duke will come out at such a dangerous time?"

Mistoffelees purred in response.

Fah Lo Suee sat on the divan, her long legs crossed over each other, smoking a cigarette. She raised a dark brow, and it did wonders in accenting her already-beautiful ivory face as old Sam Pak (#4) finished telling her the news.

"He escaped?" she asked in Cantonese, which was one of the languages they understood, "From the king's gallows?"

"In a daring rescue attempt, my lady," Sam Pak said, his wizened hands hidden inside the huge sleeves of his Chinese robe. Sam Pak — whose real name was John Ki — had been Fu Manchu's political mentor, before coming his lieutenant before Lo Suee had been born. Lo Suee had grown up with Sam Pak, and one of her earliest memories was of him. Now that Lo Suee had taken over the running of the Asian Underground from her father, Sam served under her.

Lo Suee beamed with approval. She knew Tom Sawyer well, and had a fond liking of him; not like those between lovers, but between close cousins. "Where is he held now?"

"We do not know, my lady," Sam Pak answered. "We have been in contact with the Black Duke's men, but they have not told us anything."

Lo Suee's dark brow lifted a little bit higher, but she understood. It must be for the best, she thought, knowing that there had to be a mole somewhere in the Underground. How else would Dante and Reed have known where to get Tom in the first place? She may look like she was in her early twenties, but Lo Suee was longer-lived that most expected. Her genius father's elixir vitae had been spread out amongst his closest circle, those whom he trusted and consulted. Lo Suee was one of them.

She dismissed Sam Pak, and reclined in the divan, the smoke from her cigarette wafting up above her head in swirls of misty white. She was deep in Chinatown, where her father's bases were located. She stayed in the main one, and it reminded her of the old days, where her father had reigned supreme in the crime world and the name of the Si-Fan had made men tremble.

Now it was a new empire in place, and the name of the Second Reich was one to hate and spit at. A small smile came to Lo Suee's angular features as she thought of Sir Denis Nayland Smith (#5), ex-enemy of the Si-Fan. Now he was one of the Asian Underground's top men, working alongside the daughter of the man he had sworn to destroy. It was all very ironic, really.

No, she corrected herself, It is not ironic. It is a product of circumstance.

And circumstance demands our victory.

(#1) Anyone who's read Moby Dick; Or, The Whale will know this is true. The whole story is told from Ishmael's standpoint.

(#2) Mistoffelees is the 'magical Mister Mistoffelees', from Andrew Lloyd Webber's musical Cats. Some lines used to describe him are 'Well never was there ever/A cat so clever as magical Mr. Mistoffelees!', 'vague and aloof' and 'quiet and small/He is black/From the ears to the tip of his tail'.

(#3) These are literary characters, chiefly from the Victorian era. For more about them, please refer to the 'Literary References' in my website's Revolution page.

(#4) Sam Pak was created by Sax Rohmer, and I am under the impression he first appeared in The Hand of Fu Manchu (1934). He did not take the Doctor's elixir vitae (elixir of youth) and chose to live out his unnaturally long lifespan.

(#5) Sir Denis Nayland Smith is the hero of the Fu Manchu stories; he is Fu Manchu's antithesis.