Penny Dreadful and the Machines

Willem gazed at the cold, rippling water, its grey matching his immediate prospects.

"Yes, sir," he said quietly, yearning to be elsewhere.

"And it further follows, that..." The man tensed, and a second later he took aim and fired, a duck flying low over the reeds suddenly flipping on its side and careening into the water. Johannes let go the gundog he was holding and the dog splashed into the water, its eagerness to swim out into the small lake an indication that even the animals knew not to the around the shooter when bad news was abroad.

"It follows that," the man began again, "if you have good news, you would stride joyously, not creep furtively. Thus, the news must be ill."

The man looked back at Willem, who felt transfixed by his gaunt features and his gimlet eyes. But though the eyes stared through him, and that was bad enough, more frightening still was the Hungarian moustache, the points waxed to a precision that could impale flies on the wing. Still looking at the moustache, Willem nodded.

The man sighed gently and broke open the shotgun, handing it to Johannes to reload, and taking the other gun from the lad's trembling hands. The man closed the fresh gun with a terrifying finality, the hollow click resounding like the end of the world, and he turned back to the mere and his sport.

"You may report, then," he said, and Willem swallowed softly.

"The news is from Herr Hoth," said Willem.

"He has failed to get the girl?"

"His men were very close. They had their hands upon her and were about to transfer her to a covered carriage, and the plans were in place to have her transported to Schloss Kaninchen..."

"But?" said the man, and in the long history of human civilisation, never has a single word inspired such terror.

"But," gulped Willem, "unknown to Herr Hoth and his men, her maid was nearby, and upon seeing Miss Dreadful being manhandled she... flew into action like one of the furies, was how Herr Hoth described it. Amazingly, she put two former members of the Brandenburg Life Guard into the emergency department of St Thomas's Hospital in as many seconds. The rest of the group were thus obliged to retire."

"And did Herr Hoth provide a description of the maid?"

"He said she had a mass of red hair and spoke with an Irish accent."

"Ach! Roxanne Poule," said the man, a darkness in his eyes, "I do not know whether the British are insanely clever or unbelievably stupid, to place their most effective female assassin in domestic service. If Herr Hoth would be so good as to bring me the lady when he brings me Miss Dreadful, we might overlook this failure."

"Ah..." said Willem, and he had no desire to continue.

The man's eyes unfocussed and he stared into the middle distance, his knuckles white as he gripped his gun. Calm blue ocean, calm blue ocean...

"You are going to tell me," the man said, after he gathered himself, "that Herr Hoth can no longer locate Miss Dreadful."

"I am afraid that is the case," said Willem, closing his eyes and waiting for the shotgun pellets to rip into his chest, "Herr Hoth was able to resume his surveillance after a few brief hours, but since then she has not been seen."

"So, in addition to Ribeiro to be hanged for killing a policeman, of all things, an entire group of operatives has been stymied by a young woman of no remarkable attainments beyond a pair of blue eyes?"

"As you say," said Willem, his voice hoarse.

"Very well," said the man, and even the exhalation that followed was leaden with menace, "it appears I must attend to this matter myself. Pack my trunk, Willem, I will be travelling to England."

At that, the man tensed once more and swung into action, loosing off a well-aimed shot. The duck, like so many of his victims, let out a last despairing cry before it plummeted, headlong, crashing into the water. Willem shuddered, grateful that at least it wasn't him... this time.

The End