Sexy Steampunk Babes: Chapter Seventy Nine

Yelena joined the crowds around the Summerfield Manse as they clapped and cheered mightily at the Shrieker’s commanding victory, the sight of which had been projected onto two massive outdoor screens.

“Well ladies and gentleman,” she announced as she stood up from her pavilion. “It seems that with her champion triumphant, our newest liege lady has been selected. Long may Clarice Summefield née Whitemorrow reign.”

“Your majesty, this is-” Lady Plumgarden started to protest as she stood up and hurried over from the lower stands to the royal pavilion, only to be interrupted by another round of cheers. “Ma’am, I must protest! This duel was to be decided with Shards – and yet that was clearly a fighter craft powered by an airship core!”

Yelena resisted the urge to roll her eyes. The fact that the woman was even at the manse was annoying enough, when every other claimant, heir and lady alike, had chosen to be aboard their airships for the duel.

Lady Plumgarden had instead chosen to stay on the ground, as she was so ostensibly confident in her champion’s chances that she felt no need to be personally present. The reality was that she’d spent much of the short duel alluding to the rumours of William’s instability from the lower stands – like some kind of gutter dwelling creature speaking up through the grating.

If doing so had been an attempt to make herself seem the more palatable option as a Duchess compared to the Whitemorrow girl, she’d failed quite spectacularly.

Yelena also noted that the Plumgarden ship in the distance and on-screen was now turning back towards the city, rather than moving to recover their downed and likely still alive ‘champion’. By contrast, Apple River was moving to recover the remains of their downed Shard and pilot. As was the Ashfield vessel.

And I’ll be having words with William about that little stunt, she thought.

She’d have been worried about the fact that a ship from a scorned house was now making its way towards her position – were it not for the fact that five Royal Navy vessels hung overhead.

Again, it was a little sad that she needed to even consider such an action from an ostensibly loyal house plausible, but the rebellion had made the unthinkable almost reasonable. Were Plumgarden to try and cut their losses by assassinating her from on high with cannon fire and – somehow – successfully escape back up North, they’d likely be awarded the Summerfield Duchy by the grateful rebels.

Fortunately, even were it not for the ships overhead, she also still had the Lady of the House next to her. Regicide was one thing, but kin slaying was quite another. And there was little doubt that Lady Plumgarden would be collateral damage should her heir choose to let loose with their flagship’s cannons.

To that end, she felt little issue with dismissing the oncoming ship and instead focusing on telling the scorned Countess where she could stuff her complaints.

“If you have any doubts about the legality of the Whitemorrow Super-Shard, it seems you’ll have an opportunity to confirm their veracity momentarily,” the Queen said, her voice slightly raised to be heard over the noise.

Because sure enough, the boy was coming in to land, the vast amounts of aether his craft produced – as well as the noise – mercifully cutting off as he started to hover, directional thrusters on the wings arresting his momentum.

“Of course, should your accusations fail to hold aether, I expect this to be the end of any questions regarding this duel’s outcome,” she said, returning her attention to the Countess.

And there was a hint of warning there. For all that Lindholm’s unusual founding meant that its noble houses had significantly more leeway and protection from the Crown’s authority than back on the mainland, she was still the Queen.

So she had the satisfaction of watching the other woman pale slightly. “Of course, Your Majesty. As you say.”

“Excellent,” Yelena said cheerily. “Then let’s make our way down.”

Fortunately, the boy hadn’t landed in the crowd, instead dropping just short in one of the nearby open areas of the manse’s perfectly manicured lawn. Of course, the landing thrusters meant that some of the tablecloths and decorations got knocked over, but that was what servants were for, and they were already moving to fix the ‘destruction’ William’s entry had caused.

At the very least, the minor vandalism did little to dissuade the rush of nobles who were now mobbing the landed vehicle – though as Yelena approached, her guards cleared a path for her.

The boy had somehow already clambered out of the cockpit and had been talking animatedly with a noblewoman, but turned to the Queen when she approached.

“Your Majesty,” he said with a quick bow.

“Congratulations on your victory,” she said.

“My thanks.” He bowed again. “With that said, I had a feeling my new craft had caused a bit of a stir here in the stands. So to that end, I thought it wise to come straight from the duel and show it off, lest there be any accusations of me switching things around after the fact.”

Yelena resisted the urge to roll her eyes. As if she’d let that happen. Her ability to interfere in an ongoing succession was limited – but enforcing the results of a ‘finished’ one?

Easy.

Still, this also worked.

“A not unwise course of action,” she said. “Though many would be wary of unveiling their technological secrets in such a manner.”

He shrugged. “I don’t think any of what makes my Shard so special is much of a secret. Super-Shards are hardly an unknown concept, your majesty. I think the Shrieker here just so happens to be the first time they were viable.”

Viable? That was an interesting word choice, and she was about to ask what he meant by that, before she was interrupted by Lady Plumgarden.

Which she allowed.

Magnanimously.

…If only to let the woman dig her own grave.

“So you admit it?” Plumgarden accused. “For the phrase Super-Shard is in itself a paradox, as the creation of one requires an airship core. Which would legally make it an airship.”

William just smiled. “Which would be a violation of our agreed upon terms. I understand. Which was why I made sure this wasn’t a ‘normal’ Super-Shard.”

Without another word, he reached back, opening a panel in the craft. Reaching into the internals, he came back with two objects.

Objects that immediately elicited a gasp from the crowd – and Yelena had to resist the urge to sigh. She’d known the plan of course, even agreed to it, but she’d sort of hoped he’d dress it up a bit.

More fool I, she thought as she stared at two crudely formed hemispheres.

How he’d even convinced a core-crafter to just… take a hammer and split an airship core down the middle, she didn’t know.

But he had.

And now she was looking at two cores that would be forever almost entirely useless for an airship. Because once mithril was cut or shaved down, it could not be fit back together.

They could barely cut the stuff, let alone smelt it.

Which would be fine, were it not for a few key details.

Most notable of which was that the size of a core dictated not just how much aether it could produce. An equal weight in Shard cores would produce notably less than a fully formed core.

That however wasn’t the worst of it.

No, that lay in the fact that the size of a core dictated how long the aether it produced could remain in existence. For a Shard-core or even just a mage producing aether, that would be a minute or two. By contrast, a full sized airship core could produce aether that would last for hours.

That extra longevity was needed, if only to ensure the aether in an airship’s ballasts would reach sufficient density to produce the massive amounts of lift an airship needed.

And he just pulls out a core he cut in two without so much as blinking, she thought tiredly.

And now there was an almost tangible sense of disbelief running through the crowd. Because the collected nobility weren’t just looking at a metal ingot that had been split in two. They were looking at the death of a future house. They were looking at an airship that could never fly. They were looking at the loss of an irreplaceable resource that underpinned their entire society.

The chipping down of a core was not new. It was done reasonably often to create new shard-cores. Which was the reason for the name. But ‘chipping’ was all that occurred. A little chipping, measured precisely – and never to the extent that the original airship core was rendered defunct.

To that end, Yelena was reasonably certain that she was looking at the world’s first ‘dead’ core. She knew that was a silly thing to label it. It clearly still functioned after all, yet that was the word that leapt to mind.

“What have you done!?” Lady Plumgarden shrieked – giving voice to what was undoubtedly running through many minds present.

“Ensured I wasn’t using an airship core?” Willaim said with an almost infuriating level of innocence – which he had to be feigning. “What makes a craft an airship or a Shard is the size of any one of its cores, not their combined weight. So…”

He placed the cores together, then pulled them apart again.

“…I cut them down. It’s not like the Shrieker needs any real longevity to its aether when it’s all being used for thrust.”

And suddenly, that name, the ‘Shrieker’ took on an almost macabre tone.

Like the dying screams of the destroyed core, Yelena thought.

Of course, William continued on, heedless or uncaring of the discomfort being emitted by his audience.

“You… killed a core? Just to win a duel?” Plumgarden asked.

“Well, it was a rather important duel.” He laughed. “And killed? I realize this is new territory, but that’s a little dramatic, don’t you think? They still work. And while the Shrieker will likely always be a bit slower than his future brothers, I think we can all agree that after my most recent demonstration, that’ll still be plenty fast enough to outperform any Shard the North would think to field against them.”

And that was what shook Yelena after her reverie – because now William was going off-script.

“What do you mean, ‘brothers’?” she asked slowly.

He turned to her – and actually had the audacity to cock his head.

“Well, future Shriekers of course?” He gestured back to his craft. “I mean, I think I’ve managed to demonstrate that the Super-Shard concept works. Mostly. It still needs a few more tweaks, but it’s still the deadliest Shard in existence right now. Hopefully.”

He patted the wing affectionately. “So we should make more, no? And the future variants should be even better, given I won’t have to split the cores to avoid any arbitrary issues in classification.”

“Why would we need to make more of… that?” A new voice asked, gesturing to the Shard with significantly less enthusiasm than she’d been showing barely a minute ago.

And again, he had to give them that look. Like they were the slow ones.

“Why wouldn’t we? I mean, the Corsairs and non-magic explosives we’ve already developed are powerful – and with them not being dependent on mages or mithril, we’ll be able to outscale the North eventually. Even if we have to grind them down through attrition. But I doubt they’re just going to sit back and let that happen. They’ll be looking for a knockout punch, if only to avoid the mainland getting involved.”

Yelena finally found herself nodding slowly.

“So we need some kind of stop-gap to buy us time,” he continued. “So… Shriekers. I mean, it’s no secret we currently have a surplus of cores and not enough frames to house them. So this is an opportunity for us to leverage that to our advantage by making use of those cores in the shortest timeframe possible. It doesn’t take that long to make a Shard-frame after all.” He looked a little smug. “As I proved this past week.”

Yelena stared – as did many others.

…Just when she thought she had a grip on the boy. When he presented the Shrieker, he thought he’d just wanted to show off by winning this one duel.

Instead, he was thinking ahead. To the war itself.

Suddenly, she was reminded of Griffith’s words on the subject. How she’d continually thought him shortsighted back at the Academy, only to realize that she’d vastly underestimated him.

And now she’d done the same thing.

So was it possible she was underestimating him in other ways.

She shook her head.

“I think,” she said, quietly but firmly strangling the rising tide of questions and protests that were no doubt building in the crowd. “That this ‘Shrieker’ idea is worth ruminating on. Later. For the moment, I think this demonstration rather handily confirms that House Whitemorrow in no way cheated during the duel and that the Shrieker is very much a Shard by any conventional definition of the word.”

Plumgarden seemed to recover from her shock, glancing between the two ‘dead’ cores and Yelena as if to make some argument on purely moral grounds. Finally, though, the light seemed to go out of her – and Yelena couldn’t help but feel some sympathy for the woman.

She knew the feeling when it came to dealing with William.

“Yes… I formally withdraw my complaints,” she said finally.

“Excellent.” Yelena smiled. “Then let us prepare to celebrate the imminent arrival of Summerfield’s newest Duchess.”

Because sure enough, the Jellyfish carrying the recently elevated young woman, was also coming in to land.

And she could only hope that the new Duchess would be able to get a handle on her new husband-to-be, now that he’d have an entire Duchy’s worth of resources to play with.

Void knew Yelena had tried and failed miserably back when he’d been a Count – albeit to her benefit.

…And as she turned away to prepare the welcoming committee, she found herself pondering whether to be dismayed or happy about the speculative look Tyana was giving the boy.

Her second-born did always have a taste for unbroken stallions.