With her crew dead or wounded beyond the ability to leave the slope, she alone had made the trek down to the beach. The enemy airship had dropped onto the sands earlier, belching dark smoke and flame in its wake. Amy only hoped that her crew could repair their ship in the event that he attempted another escape.

  Professor Von-Dark had raided her father’s lands one time too often and the young woman was determined to end his foul tyranny once and for all. Too many of their previous battles had been won, only for him to make a last minute escape. Her crew had tried to stop her from going alone, but she waved off their warnings. Stubbornly, Amy refused to wait and left on foot to seek him out. It would end on this island. She would stop him or die trying. She scoffed at the notion of her death. Blessed or cursed, she’d been wounded many times and never died. Some injuries that would have killed others simply healed unnaturally fast. She felt the pain but never suffered the long lasting effects.

  The barren slopes of the peak had given way to a lush green jungle where she’d easily dispatched of three of his henchmen. They’d been sent to ensure her demise but instead found their own. Upon reaching the beach, several more minions attacked her, yet cunning abilities with martial arts and the point of her blade had led to a series of leaps, kicks and rapid punches that left the sands covered with their unconscious and unmoving bodies. Here and there, the sand quietly soaked up splashes of blood as Amy left the battlefield and strolled toward the smoldering airship in the distance.

  Sneaking through the jungle, she approached the vessel unseen. When she found Von-Dark, he stood beside the ramp leading up into his scorched and battered airship. The look of surprise on his face as she emerged from the jungle wasn’t lost on her. Amy took great pride in knowing that he’d been caught off guard.

  Although burnt heavily in several spots, a testament to Amy’s combat skills, his vessel appeared to be in remarkably good shape. He and his men had quickly extinguished the fires and patched up the worst of the damage. The knowledge that his ship was airworthy filled her with dread. If he escaped, it could be months before she’d be able to track him down again.

  No, she thought, for father’s sake, I can’t let him go. I’ve got to make daddy proud and end it here. One of us dies today.

  The man’s tall stature and close-cropped hair were a vivid contrast to her small frame and flowing auburn locks. And like their builds, their dress also contrasted. Von-Dark wore his usual military-styled uniform, complete with ribbons and a gold sash, while her billowing white blouse and tight leather pants gave her the pirate look she so adored.

  His blue jacket flapped in the warm tropical breeze and he tugged the oversized, scarlet collar up around his head. He held his chin high as the fingers on his right hand tapped the hilt of his sword.

  “This ends today!” Amy’s fingers tightened around her weapon. The blade of her father’s dagger, given to her when she’d left his kingdom in search of adventure and her own path, wove back and forth in front of her. She meant to fight and knew that his usual style was to lunge headlong into battle. “You’ve terrorized the lands of the southern kingdoms for far too long. No longer!”

  She stepped forward, but movement behind him caught her attention. Her gaze moved up the ramp to a large mechanical beast, which strolled down and stopped beside Von-Dark. The metal cat stood three feet at the shoulder and had the look of a lion complete with a mane of razor sharp blades crowning its head. Its body appeared partially armored, but through the gaps in between, its iron and brass clockwork was visible.

  “I’ve grown weary of your constant interference, my dear. Now, I’ve got dastardly deeds to perpetrate, so I shall leave my sweet little kitten to play with you.”

  As he turned, Von-Dark touched the cat’s head. “Fang, finish her and leave no part undamaged.”

  Its black eyes watched him in an almost loving manner as he spoke but then turned and narrowed to glare at Amy. The beast’s mouth twisted to show metal fangs and it let out a feral growl that was meant to send a shiver of fear through her. The kitten’s rear legs bent and dug in, an obvious sign that it meant to pounce.

  Von-Dark’s eyes moved to study her again. “I do hope that this is the last time we meet.” He looked past her, but not into the jungle. “But I doubt that will be the case. I think a higher power has destined us to play out these little games for many years to come.”

  “I beat you every time,” she growled. “With or without your toys, I’ll stop you today as well.”

  His brow rose and a smirk appeared, “Perhaps, perhaps. But if you do, I’ll only be back, even stronger than before.”

  He walked away without a second glance back as his kitten leapt at her. Amy braced herself as the creature pushed airborne, then dove to the side and rolled to her feet. The kitten landed with a cacophony of clanging metal. Sand was thrown in every direction as it hit and spun to find her. It let loose a roar of frustration which echoed through the jungle behind them.

  Amy dove a second time to avoid being slashed in two while trying to figure a way to get aboard the vessel. Cursing herself, she turned her attention to the beast. She needed to stop it from tearing her to shreds. Once it was neutralized, she could infiltrate the black and white airship of Von-Dark.

  Dagger in hand, Amy studied and saw a weakness. The beast may have been strong and fierce, with a size meant to instill fear, but her small form could take advantage of those attributes. She crouched, bouncing back and forth on the balls of her feet in preparation. The kitten turned again and in the predictable pattern which it was programmed to follow, leapt at her. Instead of diving, she side-stepped, dodged the slashing paw and jumped onto the creature’s back. Moving faster than a normal girl her age, she shoved her blade between the armor plates and lodged it in the clockwork along the kitten’s spine. Metal creaked, snapped, and the beast instantly stopped, frozen in place.

  She looked back at the ship as it began to rise. Her grip tightened on the dagger but then she stopped herself from withdrawing it. The beast would restart if its cogs were cleared of the blade’s interference. Amy bit her lip and nodded. Her father’s gift would have to remain behind. Maybe at some point in the future, she’d be able to reclaim it.

  “Sorry kitty,” she whispered and then darted toward the airship as it began its ascent.

  A loose mooring line dangled and danced beneath the vessel. Pleading to whatever god was listening, she ran and jumped with all her might. Her powerful legs flung her skyward, higher than she’d ever gone, easily within grasp of her target. The rope stung as it slipped across her palms before she could get a tight hold, but once her fingers gripped the twine, they held fast. Amy’s climb was time consuming, but when she looked down at the tiny island that grew smaller below her feet, time lost all importance and only holding on mattered.

  She reached the deck, grabbed the flooring and dragged herself aboard. Looking around, Amy spotted Von-Dark at the control wheels several feet away. His back was to the hatch and her presence hadn’t been noticed. His crew had been left behind and they were alone. With care, she shook her burning hands and placed them flat against the cold metal flooring for some measure of relief.

  The man had destroyed far too much in her life to be allowed to escape again. Every time their paths had crossed, she’d defeated him, only to have Von-Dark return. Amy shook her head as she whispered a promise to herself, “Not this time.”

  The metallic hiss of a blade being drawn filled her ears as she stood. Her raw fingers tightened around the leather-wrapped hilt of the dagger hidden in her boot. One thing Amy never worried about was a lack of weaponry. If she lost this one, three more were still hidden on her slender form.

  She took a careful step; no sound was made. A second step, then a third followed. But on the fourth, a mechanized roar sent a rush of anger through her. She glanced back to see a second kitten behind her. The beast had moved without being heard. When she looked forward again, the scarred and surprised face of Von-Dark was staring back. A twisted smile came to him and he slowly nodded.

  “I will admit that your constant failure to die is becoming tiresome.” His voice boomed across the flight deck. He glanced at the mechanical beast behind her. “And what of Fang?”

  “Slipped a gear,” she quipped through narrowed eyes and clenched teeth.

  His face contorted in mock concern for the lost kitten. “Katana, did you hear that? She’s dispatched your mate. I would imagine retribution is in order.”

  Katana growled and crouched. But as the creature jumped, Amy twisted and evaded its claws. She knew how these cats worked. The metal beast’s momentum sent it out of control on the slick metal deck. It smashed into the thin wall beside Von-Dark. One of the blades on its mane sliced his right leg, deep across the thigh. He inhaled sharply and grabbed the wound, losing balance as he did so. The thin sheet metal gave way and tore open as hundreds of pounds of metal cat impacted against it. The kitten left deep gouges in the metal as it slipped through, falling hundreds of feet to the water. Von-Dark teetered on the edge of the opening, grasping for a handhold.

  Out of instinct, Amy reached for him as he slipped. To die from a fall of this height was not how anyone should meet their end, but her good gesture was rewarded with treachery. He grabbed her arm, seized tight, and pulled her out into the blue abyss. Both fell away from the floating sanctuary and quickly followed Katana downward.

  *****

  “Amy Lynn,” The woman’s voice sang out.

  The little girl looked up and saw her mother’s head peeking through the open door of her bedroom. The woman’s eyes narrowed and she spoke in a suspicious tone.

  “Amy Lynn? Didn’t you hear me calling? Come on, dinner time.”

  Amy Lynn looked at the little doll in her right hand and the soldier action figure in her left.

  “But mommy, Captain Amy and Professor Von-Dark just fell out of the airship. They’re falling. If I leave now, she’ll splatter all over the ground.”

  She looked at her mother with big green eyes and pleaded her case in a manner she usually reserved for her father. The little girl put on her best and most practiced pouty face, quivered her bottom lip and softly said, “Please? Few more minutes?”

  Her mother shook her head in mock frustration. There in the center of the room, surrounding her precocious daughter were the large green rug from the bathroom, a flock of rubber ducks and a model airship. Katana, her fuzzy black and white kitten, seized upon the opportunity to let out a mew that broke the moment of parent-child tension.

  “Is that one of your brother’s steampunk toys?” she asked. Amy’s eyes looked in every direction except her mother’s, but she eventually nodded.

  “Captain Amy needed it. She had to…”

  The woman put her hand up to stop the girl’s explanation. “You’ve got five minutes to finish up then get your lil’ tuckus to the dinner table. And put that toy back in your brother’s room. He’ll throw a fit if he finds out you’ve been playing with it.”

  Amy Lynn watched her mother leave the doorway. She looked down at the doll in her hand and bit her lip as she thought about the situation. Captain Amy was falling. How was she going to save her? Laying the soldier down, she glanced around and saw a plastic pterodactyl. She reached out, grabbed it up and twisted it around in her little fingers.

  “Dinosaur bird!” she said and moved it in a sweeping motion toward the doll.

  *****

  The hand on her throat tightened even as they fell. Amy pulled at his grasp but the man wasn’t yielding. He meant to choke the life out of her before they hit the jagged rocks of the coastline below. It was bad enough to die because of him, but not with his hands denying her breath.

  His lips moved, but the roar of the rushing wind in her ears muted his words. She didn’t care; she had no use for anything he had to say. Since his hand would not budge, Amy tried another tactic. She threw a punch and struck Von-Dark in the nose. This was followed by a well-placed kick to the groin. Even with the sound of the wind, she heard his grunt. His hands loosened and the two slipped away from one another.

  Von-Dark quickly twisted and grabbed her ankle. Amy felt his touch and looked down at him. With determination, she spun herself again and kicked at him with the free foot. Her boot heel connected with his chin and the man fell away, tumbling end over end, grabbing at his wounded face.

  She flattened herself out and saw the ground approaching fast. Panic crept into her thoughts. She didn’t fear dying as much as the pain and having her body shattered on the rock, only to lay there in agony for an hour until the magic within her had mended all the injuries.

  From nowhere, a giant bird-shape swooped in below her. The impact against the creature’s back knocked the air from her lungs. Without thinking, she wrapped her arms around the long neck of the beast. Her body began to slide off its leather-like skin. But the creature tilted to one side and then jerked back hard the other way, tossing her gently on to its back. She held tight and laid her head on the beast. Catching her breath, she willed herself to look over the side, at the ground below. There was no sign of Von-Dark, but from this height, that didn’t mean much. Amy cursed her luck. Without seeing his body, she couldn’t be sure if he really died or had pulled off yet another miraculous escape.

  The adrenalin began to subside and she found herself shaking. Mere seconds had stood between her and certain death, yet luck had presented itself once again. She had no idea where the flying beast had come from. Was it trying to save her or was it collecting food for its young? It didn’t matter. She just held on and laid a weary head down to rest. She’d deal with the beast’s intentions later.

  It had been a busy day. All of her days were busy. She longed for a life in which she could relax, far away from danger. She wanted to curse whatever god kept her away from that dream life, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t because that same god always found a way to help her survive and escape every bad situation without harm. It didn’t matter what happened next. She was Captain Amy Talon. She’d survive and she’d do so in style.

  Thursday Morrow

  Robert J. Krog

  Professor Bartimus Morue sat at his workbench, tinkering by the glow of a gas lamp. He worked on replacement parts for the Self-Winding Mechanical Man because there would never be time to make another such device complete. It had been the work of a lifetime. He would not live so long but, ah, the man would surely come back when something broke, surely. It was well made, but intricate, and designed to be built of materials man had not yet discovered or invented. Morue had been forced to make do with metals and alloys already in existence. But one day, somewhere, there would be a fabulous discovery of materials that would not wear down under friction, and the Self-Winding Man’s parts would be replaced a final time. Until then, however much it did not want to return to its creator, Bartimus Morue was the only one with spare parts. The old man sighed and tinkered and waited.

  It was past midnight in Brooklyn, on into the wee hours. The hands on the clock were falling second by second back down the dial toward the hour of dawn, and Morue’s head of white hair was on his arms atop the workbench. He snored a bit and heard nothing as the door to his shop opened with a slight creak. Brass feet clanked and clumped, stumbling once, though their owner walked as carefully as it could. It had timed things well, waiting to enter until the periodic turn of its internal battery cranks came and went. It had time to pick up its spare parts and leave before they turned, whirring and whining again. At the bench, it paused, looking down with its telescopic, camera eyes at its maker, then picked up the spare knee on the table and turned to go. Halfway to the door, though, it paused and turned back. It clanked with less care over to the table and took its old seat upon the stool. The intentional noise awakened the old man who pushed himself up with a groan and gave his invention a bemused smile. It sat there, brassy, naked, sexless, but warm from the batteries inside it, almost faceless except for those wide eyes, grill for a mouth, and funnel shaped ears.

  “How did you make me?” it asked him. Its voice, coming from the phonogram cylinders deep in its chest and issuing from its mouth, was sing song and had been recorded and remixed earlier in the day from the voice of a school teacher as it had stood outside the schoolroom window.

  He stretched, groaning some more before replying, “I think you know that, Thursday. Where have you been, and were you careful? The police are after you.”

  “I was careful, and I do not think they are here. I know some about my making, Sir, but not all. I know the superficial aspects of gears and movement, batteries and springs, buand of course, but not the integral part of thoughts. How did you make me, Bartimus Morue?” It tapped a brass finger against its brass head. Its voice, made up of recorded words from so many people, hardly any of them chosen now from samples recorded by Morue, was disconcerting to him.

  “You have seen the diagrams,” he protested. “I have kept nothing from you.”

  “Something you did was not in the diagrams, Professor. There is something you have never explained.”

  “Thursday, my boy, I have explained all. Tell me where you have been.”

  It paused for some time, the thousands and thousands of tiny gears and connections in its head clicking away before it responded. It said, “If I tell you where I have been, will you tell me how I was made?”

  “You think I have been lying to you,” he accused.

  “A lie of omission, yes,” it stated. “You have not told all, but you have represented what you have told me as all. There is more you could have told me.”