IG thread

Syrtis Major (May 23, 1899, 5pm) The sun is settling low in the sky as Robert steps from the hansom cab and onto the street. He and Louis had been fortunate to find an apartment in one of the historic Martian buildings that had been restored to its former splendor. The upper floors were still blocked off, but their fourth floor flat was well appointed and comfortable.

Arriving at the top of the last flight of stairs, Robert enters his home, and notices a note on the kitchen table. He immediately recognizes Louis' neat script:

My dearest Robert,

My cousin Penny sent me a message to meet her at the Fox and Hound in the Residency. I will be home by 5pm.

All my love,

Louis
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:25, Fri 28 Aug 2015.

The tall man that mounted the stairs was somewhere in his early thirties and the prime of his life.  He had a strong, lithe build with large powerful hands and an easy dexterity as climbed.  Bright blue eyes looked out of a handsome face enhanced by a well trimmed beard and a smile seemed to twinkle in laugh lines and the wry turn of his lips.  He was dressed in well made but plain civilian clothes with the unmistakable air of the military about them.  Under one arm he carries a plump package wrapped in oiled paper and bound in twine.

The flat consisted of a small entry hall with a closet, a dining room, what could be called a library or sitting room, a kitchen and master and guest bedroom.  The rooms were still sparsely furnished but bore the evidence of his wife's firm hand and excellent taste.  The only evidence of Robert's input was a large painting of a set of dueling Martian sky galleons and a case of books covering naval and Martian history and several examples of the new genre of science fiction.  He smiled seeing that they had all been graciously but carefully exhibited out of direct view in the library.  In the short time that they'd been married he'd made several wrenching adjustments from a lifetime of bachelor existence to one of conjugal bliss.  It wasn't that a life as a naval officer ingrained habits of neatness and care in him; it was arranging life to please another as well.  Fortunately he'd found that task to be an easy one given the lovely and intelligent woman that was now his wife.

Robert set down the package on the counter and picked up the note.  He frowned for a moment and then pulled a battered but well made pocket naval chronometer.  It was 5 PM already and Louis wasn't home yet.  If he knew her cousin Penny then Louis would be late.  Heading to the pantry he mixed himself a gin and tonic with a touch of lime and set the tea kettle on the gas fire.  Settling into his battered and stuffed chair in the library he began to read Verne's latest book and listened to the bustle of traffic on the road four stories below.

The next time Robert checked his watch, it was six fifteen. The sun had set, and tendrils of the Martian night were infiltrating the streets. Syrtis Major was safe enough during the day, but most human residents tended to not linger in the streets at night. The war had inflamed passions on all sides, and another worker in Robert's building had been shot three nights ago while walking home. A door slammed somewhere downstairs, but there was no sound of footfalls on the stairs outside.

The telephone that had been installed in their flat a fortnight ago was also silent. The Governor had decreed that certain government officials, including Robert's and Louis' departments, should have the devices at hand. A few public buildings and businesses also had the devices - including the Fox and Hound.

Looking up from his book, Robert started as he glanced first at the setting sun and then at his watch.  He marked the spot in his book with a silk ribbon and then rose and went over to the phone.  After checking the operation for a few moments he rang up the Fox and Hound.  He wasn't worried but it was time that Louis was home and more than likely would appreciate being rescued from her cousin.

"Hello, this is Robert Darlington, is my wife Louis there?  She's meeting with her cousin, a miss Jenkins."

"I am sorry, Mister Darlington," the hostess said in a soft Irish brogue, "Missus Darlington and Miz Penny did not keep their reservation today." The crinkling of a turning page comes through, along with the mutter of background conversations and the clinking of glassware. "They also did not come in earlier or late, Sir."

Robert was quiet for a moment in shock.  He took a deep breath then and continued in a normal voice.  There was something very, very wrong here and he had to take immediately action.  "Very well then, thank you for your information miss.  I wish you a good eve."

Putting the phone back on the hook Robert moved immediately to the cabinet and pulled out his big Webley revolver.  The act of checking the action, loading it and pocketing a box of cartridges calmed his mind a bit.  A sap was stuffed in his pocket as he thought back to what might have happened.

First he went quickly through Louis' things on her desk, looking for any letters or evidence on where or what she might have received.  Failing that he would go down to the doorman and find out if Louis had taken a cab and perhaps trace her that way.  Otherwise she might have been abducted along the way or perhaps she and her cousin had innocently made other arrangements.

Louis' secretary is a masterpiece of Martian chestnut and weathered liftwood, both taken from refurbished aerial ships. The top is rolled open, and most of the shelf slots contain papers pertaining to their family - bills and other documents. Robert's eye falls on an envelope lying amidst a sheaf of writing paper. It is the characteristic grey of one of the city's messenger service, and the corner of a message form is protruding from the torn envelope. Picking it up, Robert reads it:

Meet me at F&H. 3PM. Game is afoot. Penny.

He also notes that the revolver Louis keeps in the top of her desk is missing, along with the holster and the spare cylinder.
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:35, Tue 01 Sept 2015.

Robert glances at the envelope and then folds and puts it into his pocket.  He's relieved the Louis had her pistol.  Knowing her, he was confident in her ability to handle herself but one could always get surprised.  Thinking for moment he considered that it looked like Louis and Penny were up to something.  This note was not a summons to an afternoon high tea.

With a thought he goes over and calls the agency for which she was working.  There was a chance she was on some kind of job for them or maybe just off on a search for adventure.  He knew she was bored after a few months of keeping house in their little flat and had actually encouraged her to seek something to keep her occupied.

The telephone rings several times, and then the operator comes back on the line. "I have no other number for Zane and Elder, Sir. I am sorry. Was there another number I can connect?"

Robert shook his head in frustration although such reaction served no purpose over the electric driven lines of the telephone.  "No, no other number thank you operator."  He hung up and tapped his foot as he thought.  Penny mentioned that the game was afoot.  That indicated that the two women were up to something or after something.  He tried to recall everything he knew about Louis' sister as he looked again at the message from Penny.  Perhaps there was some clue as to where the cousin had been staying from the address block on the message.  That might provide some clue before he checked with the doorman on how Louis might have traveled to her appointment.

The message was sent from the offices of Zane and Elder at 2:15pm this day. A loud *pop* reaches Robert's ears, apparently from the building's front door at the street level. Someone shouts, a woman? Then, the pounding of feet on the stairs comes from outside Robert's door. Another, louder pop sounds, and a woman screams in terror as the pounding feet come closer.
This message was last updated by the GM at 11:48, Wed 02 Sept 2015.

Moving with trained reflexes at the first 'pop', Robert seizes his pistol and heads to the door.  He cocks his weapon and holds it ready as he throws open the door with a bang, using the noise and motion as a distraction as he steps out into the corridor.

Robert steps out onto the broad landing at the threshold of his apartment door. The floor here is about eight feet wide, and the landing encircles the stairwell with open wrought iron railings. He sees a woman on the stairway below, just turning the corner from the third floor. She is running up the stairs two at a time, having hiked her skirt to her waist to accomplish it. Her right sleeve is bright with blood, and Robert can hear her panting in terror as she races toward him.

Below, a stocky man in business attire pounds his way up the preceding staircase,  with a large pistol in his right hand. He is outpacing the woman, and he will arrive at the landing below about when she gains the fourth floor landing.

Robert takes in the situation in an instant,  He brings his pistol to bear on the man and shouts.  "Hold in the name of the Queen, no shooting here." He thinks for a moment if he knows the woman but his focus is on the man below with the gun.

The woman *seems* to be familiar, but Robert finds himself with no time to think about it.

"Zur Hölle mit der Königin," the man snarls, bringing the pistol around on Robert. The weapon's report is deafening in the hallway, and the iron railing rings like a bell as one of the heavy bullets crashes into it. Robert is showered by bits of bullet jacket, and he hears another round zip past his left ear. The man slides to a halt on the landing, and brings his weapon up in a two handed grip.

The woman gains the top of the stairs, screaming like a banshee as she spies Robert. "Louis is in danger! Penny is dead! They are trying to kill me, too!"

Robert doesn't spare the woman a glance but instead fires with cool precision back down the stairwell at the German.  He didn't think whatever the man said was particularly flattering but Robert had been under fire before both on the deck of a ship and leading sailors and marines ashore.  A small part of his mind pondered the woman's words as she speaks of Louis.

OOG: Please roll 1d6-1 for each shot (up to three) Robert fires. His Marksmanship skill won't help here, but you may subtract any Close Combat skill he has. Low numbers are better, and a 6 is always a miss. The target gets a saving throw for each hit before it's called an actual wound.

Robert fires three rapid shots, his braced position and superior height on the floor above aiding his fire.

17:13, Today: Robert rolled -2,-5,-5 using d6-6,d6-6,d6-6.  Shooting.
I think I got that right.

The Webley barks three times in rapid succession, bucking in Robert's grip as he brings it on target after each shot. The man lurches backwards with three blotches of red staining his vest, and slams into the wall at the base of the steps. His pistol clatters to the floor, and the man slides down the wall.

"Robert!" The woman staggers to a halt next to Robert, and slumps to the floor like a dropped doll. Her right sleeve is soaked in crimson blood, and her face is a sickly pale gray. He recognizes her as a worker in his office - Henrietta? No, Harriett, but her last name escapes him at the moment. Her breathing is rapid and shallow, and she is staring at him with a look of quiet desperation Robert has seen in too many faces on too many battlefields.

Seeing the German agent slump back down the stairs, Robert knows that the man is unlikely to present a threat.  He turns to the woman and shakes his head.  "Harriet, let me help you.  Tell me what happened while I get you stabilized."  He sets the safety on the pistol and stuffs it in his waistband.  Then he kneels and scoops her up and carries her back into the apartment.  Setting her down on the couch he quickly cuts strips from the table cloth and sets about cleaning and binding her wounds.  "What happened to Louis and Penny and how did you get involved?"  He knew that the constabulary would be up here soon and wanted to get what information he could before officaldom became involved.

Harriet writhes in agony as Robert lifts her. "No time," she whispers, looking up at him from the couch. "Louis. Needs you. In danger. Germans. Haberdasher. near barracks." She lays her head back on the couch's arm and closes her eyes. After a moment, she takes a deep breath, then her mouth falls open, and her body goes limp.

The sound of doors and loud voices comes from outside the door. A woman's scream echoes through the stairwell, and a man's voice calls out. "Call the constable! A man's been shot!"

Robert knows that this situation with a dead or dying German on the stairs and Harriet dead on his couch would lead to incredible complications.  He could stay and sort things out or he could take immediate action.  Without hesitation, Robert closed Harriet's eyes and then dashed down the out the door and down the stairs.  He pocketed the Webley not wanting to draw attention to himself and closed and locked his door.  Once on the stairs he called out.  "It's a German fellow, shouting something about the Queen.  I'll go down and get help!"

Unless bodily stopped he takes the stairs two at a time as he heads to the street level.  While running Robert thinks of what establishments he might recall near the barracks that Louis might have frequented.

The neighbors are out in force by the time Robert takes the stairs. Doctor McGee, the retired physician who lives across the stairway from Robert, is kneeling by the German. By the look on the doctor's face, there is little doubt the man is dead.

A few polite smiles and a statement or two about getting help brings Robert to the street. There, he finds another group gathered around the prostrate form of the doorman. From the snippets of conversation, and the pool of blood around the body, he has apparently been shot, as well.

The Old Barracks is in a part of town that Robert has only seen once. Where Louis' investigative duties may have taken her was another matter. She spoke little of her work, preferring to simply take leave of it while she was at home. After a moment, Robert does recall the likely location of the haberdasher's shop from a visit he made to the Old Barracks a few months back. It is about twenty blocks, or close to one and a third miles, and involves crossing the Haar Canal at the Imperial Way bridge.

Robert shakes his head at the sight of the dead doorman.  At least he'd avenged the deaths with his action on the stairwell but the ruthlessness of the attack, her in the town itself spoke of great danger.  He worried about Louis but could only set that aside as he moved to save her.  Walking briskly around the corner, out of side of the crowd gathered in front of the building, Robert hailed a hansom for the trip to the Old Barracks.  He offered double the fare if the driver would hurry.

The cabbie, a weatherbeaten man with a scar running from his chin to his right ear, nodded as he accepted the double fare. "Ye be askin' for trouble in that part of town," he says. "I can drop ye off, but I canna be waitin' for ye, even with this." He pats the shotgun sitting beside him in a scabbard.

The cab ride is a quick one; the horse's shod hooves pound the pavement in a canter. True to his word, the cabbie sees Robert off with a rather hasty farewell, turns the cab about, and urges the horse out as quickly as they came.

This street - Two Moons, from the sign at the corner - is relatively well lit with gaslights at each corner. Darkness has fallen, and there is no one in sight. The haberdasher's shop is ahead on Robert's left, about halfway down the block. The buildings here are mostly Martian construction, most being about six stories tall. There are a few lights showing in windows, but none of those are at street level. The one exception is what appears to be a tavern two blocks down on the right. A light breeze flows down the street, carrying the night chill and the smell of Martian sand.

Robert nods to the man.  "I can handle myself over there.  Just drop me off and be back to the safe parts of town."  As he rode in the back of the hurtling cab Robert thought back to whatever Louis could have been involved with or perhaps her cousin might have dragged her into.  Although knowing his wife it was just as likely that she'd pulled her cousin into whatever it was they were doing.  That the Germans were involved and to the point where they would kill and that openly in the town spoke of real danger.

When he disembarks from the cab Robert paid the man and started walking down the street.  He strolled past the store front, glancing casually toward what he could see. Then as he approached the inn he slipped back into the shadows and attempted to double around to a rear entrance to the store.  All the while he listened for noises from any part of the building in question.

The alleys of Syrtis Major always struck Robert as being pristine beside the ones back home. There was little of the loose trash, and none of the piles of debris common to Earth's cities. Fire escapes lined the walls on both sides of the alley, and dustbins sat at the half dozen or so doorways.  A single gaslamp hung over a door at the far end of the alley, where it turned to the right around the corner of the building. It is quiet here, save for the muttering of distant voices from the tavern.

Robert goes to the rear door of the establishment and listens.

What the alley lacks in trash, it apparently makes up for in thuggery. Robert hears faint voices from inside, and then something makes him turn around. He finds himself facing a group of Martians, three from deeper in the alley, and two more from the street side. They are all armed; two pistols, three wickedly long knives, and a shotgun are in view.

One of them steps forward. "You are very brave, human, coming here alone. Brave, and very foolish." The nearest attacker is twenty feet away, and the furthest is forty feet away.

Robert sizes up the opposition and settles on the shotgun as the most deadly of their weapons.  He readies himself for instant violence but speaks for the time being.  "Brave and foolish perhaps but I seek my wife in a matter of personal honor.  Let me deal with these human foes without troubling you."  He turns slightly to the side into the shadow to mask the pocket with the gun.

The leader smiles broadly, showing his canines. "Always polite, you British humans. We will attend to your wife after we finish with you." He lifts his knife and takes another step forward, covering a quarter of the distance to Robert. The other two knife wielders close the distance, forming a semicircle around Robert. Another step, and the knife carriers will mask their companions' line of fire.

Robert shakes his head; "Polite yes, but I wanted to give you chaps a sporting chance to escape while you still had time."  He waved his left hand broadly, attempting to draw attention to it.  "I really don't bear you any ill will yet."

As he finishes talking, Robert steps forward to mask the lines of sight of those with the guns, draws his pistol and fires at the leader.

Syrtis Major Harbor District (May 23, 1899, 6:45pm)

Robert squeezes the trigger on the Webley, belatedly recalling that he had not reloaded since firing at the German in the stairwell...

<<CRACK-BOOM>>

The shotgun wielding Martian's head explodes in a spray of blood and flesh, and the thunderous report freezes the combatants in place.

<<CRACK-BOOM>>

Another thug meets the same fate, crumpling to the ground in a shower of gore from his shattered skull. This time, Robert's eye catches a muzzle flash from the fire escape across the alley.

<<CRACK-BOOM>>

A third Martian falls, and the two still on their feet turn to flee for their miserable lives. The leader is on his knees before Robert, clutching his torso.

"I do hope you brought help," a voice calls from the fire escape. It takes his addled senses a few seconds to catch up, and a figure descends to the alley by sliding down the ladder. When the person turns, the gaslight falls on them...

Louis!!
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:10, Wed 09 Sept 2015.

Robert coolly fired one after another at the Martians, bringing down the armed foes and breaking their morale.  The added firepower from across the alley is a welcome surprise.   He looks up more carefully as the voice sounds across the alleyway and hope starts to spring in his heart.  He smiles and for a moment almost runs across the dirty stones as Louis steps out of the shadows.  Instead, controlling his emotions or at least his actions Robert cocks the big Webley and puts it against the head of the Martian leader grovelling at his feet.  Certainly the Martian wouldn't know he was out of ammunition and Robert wasn't about to say anything.

"I brought the Webley.  Henrietta died passing on her message to me and I came in a hurry.  The German pursing her is dead much as these riff raff." Louis could tell his voice though tightly controlled was bursting with relief.  "We'll need to sort this out the old way," by which he referred to their adventures together as a pair.

Looking down, Robert exerted every bit of discipline to keep from rushing to take Louis in his arms. "Now you miscreant, who are you working for and what is the meaning of all this lot?"

The other two thugs stagger as the heavy slugs tear through them, but they keep moving, and disappear around the corner to the street. The leader crumples to the alley floor, curling into a fetal ball. He is bleeding quite badly and his face is twisted in a rictus of agony.

Loud voices sound from the street, and Louis turns in alarm. "Come, my dear, we must be away from here. The damned Germans're close, and the shootin' will bring them a runnin'."

Robert considers pausing to reload but the approaching voices change his mind.  He steps around the cringing Martian leader and scoops up the shot gun.  "Let's go then.  I'll reload when we have a chance, in the meantime the shotgun will have to do." He takes motions with his head down the alley and then takes off in the opposite direction from the sound of foe approaching.

"What happened Louis," he asked as they headed toward safety or at least away from danger.

"They ambushed us," Louis says as they round the corner into the back alley. Upon reaching the next fire escape, she grasps the ladder. "There is no one above the second floor in this building. I found a good place to watch the street from the fourth floor." The fire escape extends to the third floor of the approximately eight floor building. More voices come from behind you, around the corner...

Robert knows that there is more to the story but time is pressing.  He steps up near the fire escape and readies the shotgun.  "Get on up, I'll distract them and lead them away."

Louis frowns, but she swarms up the ladder and reaches for the door. It opens easily, and she steps back to the railing. "Please, come up with me," she says in a low voice. "There's no one here."

Robert notices that the shotgun he picked up is a Winchester lever action. The barrel gleams dully in the gaslight, and the stock is pristine. He catches the faint odor of petroleum preservative from the weapon. A quick check reveals that the magazine is full, and there is a round in the chamber. The hammer is down, so he will have to cock it to fire.

As Louis heads up, Robert makes a quick judgement on the approaching voices and follows her.  He moves even more quickly up the ladder as years of time spent in the rigging of ships aid his ascent.  When he reaches the landing he grips her shoulder for a moment and heads inside, motioning for her to follow.  "Do you have a good overlook?  I'd like to see who is following us."

Louis practically drags Robert through the door, and closes it behind them. Robert finds himself standing in what appears to be the intersection of two hallways. He doesn't have time to look around, for in the next moment, Louis is in his arms. She kisses him fiercely, her eyes shining with tears in the dim light of a wall lamp. "I was so afraid that I'd never see you again," she says as she buries her face in his shoulder. "I'm sorry, but Penny is dead. I couldn't save her."

Satisfied that they are safe for a moment, Robert turns as well and crushes Louis to him.  He kisses her long and passionately to the exclusion of all else.  He strokes her hair as she buries her face in his chest.  "I was frantic with worry for you when I heard the message and then the German came blazing away.  I could not have lived another day without you Louis."

Louis clings to her husband for a few moments longer, and then takes a breath. She kisses him again, softly this time. "I love you, Robert. It was ill done of me to leave you without telling you what had happened." She takes a step back, grasping his free hand in hers. "There is a stairway to the fourth floor where no one will see or hear us." She tosses her head, indicating the hallway to Robert's left.

Robert releases Louis reluctantly but with determination for they had work to accomplish.  He leaned in a kissed her cheek as she made her confession in a way to forgive.  "All is well Louis, all is well.  We are both too impetuous at times." Robert held up a hand.  "Let me reload the pistol first.  I'd rather be fully armed if more trouble hits us."  He took a bit to reload and then shoved the pistol into his pocket.

Glancing over at the stairs Robert cocked the shotgun. "Let me lead with the shotgun.  If anything is lurking it will be best in close quarters."  With that he led the way carefully up the stairs to the next floor.

"I may be a miscreant, but I am your miscreant," she says lightly. The situation is too grave for the lightness to make it to her countenance, so she simply shrugs. She checks her rifle while Robert feeds the Webley. "I have five rounds in this rifle, and that is all. I lost my pistol in the ambush."

Following Louis' quiet instructions, Robert leads the way to a spacious area overlooking the main street. He can clearly see the Old Barracks, and the street where he exited the cab. Louis' purse and jacket are here, the garment is spattered with blood. She settles cross legged onto the floor. "I must tell you what has passed since I left our home this afternoon."

Robert smiles tightly at Louis' comment and nods as he focuses on reloading. "I have a full magazine in the shotgun and a dozen rounds for the pistol counting what I am loading now." As they mount up to the fourth floor he winces a bit at the sight of the blood on her garment.  He sits down next to her and uncocks and sets the shotgun down on the ground next to him.

"Definitely tell me what happened.  If the Germans are so willing to spill blood here and that openly things must be desperate."

Louis nods. "Yes, they are." She takes a breath. "Penny's father heard a rumor that modern weapons were being smuggled to Avenel. Penny and I eventually found the source, a quartermaster with the South Wales Borderers named Brian Derry. I found that, for the last year, he has been shipping the arms through a Martian boat captain named Verinus."

"Penny told me earlier today that Harriet, who is Derry's lover, is also a German spy. She was seen meeting with a Hans Gelber, who is an attaché at the German embassy. That was especially alarming after what I saw at Verinus' canal boat the other day. He was loading crates stenciled with the word Winchester, not the Ordnance Stores Corps crates he received from Derry."

"Penny met me at the Fox and Hound, and we decided to follow Harriet. She went shopping, and then, at about five thirty, she took a cab here. She got out two blocks from here and stepped into an alley. We followed, and observed what appeared to be a robbery. When Penny and I intervened, several men and Martians attacked us."

Louis shakes her head. "How I got away, I do not know. Penny shot two of them, and they shot her to bits in return. I killed two men who were sneaking up from behind, took a rifle and a spare magazine from one, and ran. Harriet bolted, too, and I believe she had also been shot. I emptied my pistol at them, and then I dropped it during the climb up the fire escape. If we can find it, I have a spare cylinder with six more rounds."

"Since then, I've seen at least two Germans and several armed Martians about, probably searching for me. I saw you arrive, and I went to find you." She smiles wanly. "The rest you know."
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:01, Sat 12 Sept 2015.

Robert listens quietly, the situation now making sense.

"Harriet ran back to our apartment chased by a German.  She must have had a change of heart when she saw Penny killed and you attacked.  I would guess that she did not expect to get into something so dangerous and had a change of heart.  She died on our couch while warning me."

He frowned.  "That the Germans are providing modern arms, Winchesters to Avenel is the worst news I've heard in a long while.  We need to inform the authorities directly and put a stop to this."

Louis nods, visibly saddened by the news of Harriet's death. "I agree. We have no definite proof, just a strong and risky course of action that strongly supports our suspicions. My notes are at the apartment, but it is risky to travel at night here. Shall we assay it, or should we wait until morning?"

Robert listened and peered carefully down into the street.  "I think we'd best wait her for morning rather than risk ambush in the dark.  They know that we must be close and will be blocking all the likely exits.  I would say we take to the roofs but in the dark that has it's own dangers."  He pulled back from the window and pulled her sitting form against him.  "Do you have enough proof to bring the authorities in to seize the cargoes?  The German presence here along, up to no good should be enough for any magistrate."

Louis leans against him with a sigh. "I think, with my own sworn testimony and my cousin's support, we should be able to produce the proof we need. Poor Penny, her father will be distraught when he hears of her death." She straightens and reaches for her purse. Rummaging inside, she brings forth a paper wrapped parcel and a small bottle. "I was planning to serve this at home, but since we are here..." A moment's work, and she sets a table of cheese, wine, and biscuits on the paper. "Maybe not a proper repast, but it should hold us until morning." She lifts the bottle. "At least you're not French. The shop owner would drop dead of apoplexy if he saw us drink from the bottle."

Robert kept half an ear focused on the street below, still concerned that the German agents and their helpers might organize a search of the buildings as well.  He nodded though as Louis explained her thinking.  "It will still be dangerous to get out of here in the daylight but we might even clamber through the roofs and get a ways away from here before descending to the street level.  We'll need to wait for daylight for that."

He smiles as she produces the food and wine from her purse.  "You continually amaze me darling." Robert leans in and gives her a hug and kiss.  "Thank you for the meal."  He takes the proffered bottle and drinks.  "No, not French in the least although compared to the Germans they are bosom companions."

The street is quiet save for a pair of drunken men who walk by, English, by their speech.

They consume the meal in silence and with more than normal appetites. "I don't know why,"Louis says, "but one of the things a fight does is make me hungry."

Robert has relaxed and mellowed out both from the food and wine and the fact that it seems that there is no sign of pursuit or a search.  He smiles as he stretches his legs out, the shotgun propped next to him and the pistol near at hand.  "There is something about facing death and danger that sharpens all the senses and feelings." He raised the half empty bottle to her.  "To us against the world,"  Robert took a swig and handed it to her after wiping the neck with his handkerchief.

"To us,"Louis replies with a smile. She rises up on her hands and knees, leaning in to kiss Robert. "The other thing it does it make me quite amorous. Can you help me with that, kind sir?"

Robert laughed softly deep in his chest.  He returned her kiss, sweeping her around his his arms so that she was sitting in his lap.  "You are a saucy American wench, just as I like it."  He leaned in and kissed her again before she could speak, holding her tightly and letting the trials of the afternoon wash themselves out against her lithe and limber frame.  Finally he came up fro air and smiled at her.  "That burden I will willingly bear my darling."

Louis rises up on her knees, and begins to unbutton her blouse. "I'm glad to hear that."

An hour later, they are lying on a makeshift bed of Louis' duster under them, and Robert's coat as a blanket. Louis snuggles close to her husband, aglow with the joy of their lovemaking. The faint glow of the streetlights provides some illumination against the Martian night.

Robert's breathing is finally returned to normal as he savors the warmth of her body and her love.  Despite the dangers around them the world is a hazy place of physical and mental pleasure and intense satisfaction.  He props himself up on one elbow to look down at her face, his eyes shining in the dim light from the street.

"I could never in my life before I met you imagine loving someone as much as I do you Louis.  You complete me and fill empty spots that I never knew existed." Robert gently strokes her face. "Every day is joy."

Louis blinks away tears, her eyes shining in the dim light. "I love you, Robert Darlington." She settles down against him, her head cradled on his shoulder. Soon, they both drift off to sleep...

Syrtis Major (May 24, 1899, 6am) The morning sun finds Robert and Louis waking up in the room. A woman's voice carries faintly from elsewhere in the building, speaking loudly but not in an alarmed manner. Louis sits up and stretches, gloriously unclothed in the day's light. "Good morning, husband," she says with a broad smile.
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:38, Thu 17 Sept 2015.

Robert smiled as he woke up with the warmth of his wife next to him.  He smiled, a look of content and even hunger as her skin glowed in the soft light of dawn.  Robert reached down and stroked her face while his other hand rested on her hip.  "Good morning precious wife."

Louis rises up on her knees to stretch, catching the sunlight across her body. "As much as I'd like to stay here with you, we must be about stopping the Germans and their arms shipments." She reaches for her underclothing. "How do you think we should proceed?"

Robert continues to admire his wife quite openly as she dresses with a loving smile.  "An open attack in the daylight is less likely.  I say we make a bold move and head directly to the nearest place we can catch a cab.  You can wear my coat and hat with your hair tucked under. You'll look enough like a man from a distance to perhaps confuse the pursuit."

"We have quite the mess to sort through," Louis says as she slides her camisole over her head and down over her breasts."The Germans and their henchmen will surely seek us at our home, and near our places of employment. If I were their master, I would also detail a man to watch near where we were last seen."

She steps into the riding pants she preferred to wear, rather than a skirt. "As you say, a bold move may be the best stratagem, and we have no time for a more cautious approach."

Robert dressed with quick efficiency as well.  He helped her into her camisole and breeches, more to savor the touch and feel of her than really providing aid.  He handed his heavy coat to Louis as she finished and then glanced out the window carefully.  "Hopefully the streets are fairly crowded.  We also might be able to buy additional pieces of clothing for the two of us from the residents down below to further disguise our appearance.  I would say we go directly to the Club as it would not be expected and there are many men of action there that can provide aid."

Louis presses playfully against him, savoring his touch. She steps into her boots, and takes Robert's coat. A moment's work with her hair, and she slips her cap over it, hiding it from view. From any distance, the tall American will pass for a man, for the coat hides her bosom fairly well. She picks up her rifle and her handbag.

 There are a few pedestrians on the street, mostly Martians, but there is a group of humans walking together toward the Old Barracks.

Louis nods. "There are several stores in this district that specialize in castoff clothing, maybe we can go to one of them. As you say, the Club is a good first destination."

Robert looks fairly disheveled without a jacket and his hair still mussed from the night before.  He looks about as they enter the street, trying to look nonchalant.  As the enemy had worked with Martians the night before, any of the various natives could be enemy as well.  He nodded at her comment and after a moment of look found a used clothing store.  "Good idea, and ducking into a store should flush out any shadows." Stepping out boldly he crossed the street and headed down a block in the opposite direction they wanted to hit the store.

No one takes any note of the pair as they walk along. Louis stays close by, carrying her own coat over her arm to conceal her rifle. They make it to the clothing shop without any problems. There are no signs, but the stack of clothing visible through the front window clearly shows what the establishment sells.

Robert leads the way into the shop.  "Get a couple scruffy jackets, scarves and hats for us, maybe a rucksack so we look like laborers.  I'll talk to the shopkeeper."  He went up to the shopkeeper.  "We need a set of clothes, my friend will pick out."

The shopkeeper is a rather attractive human woman you estimate to be in her forties. She smiles at you. "Well, good morning, sir! Please, look around and pick what you will." She glances at Louis. "I do have some dresses for your lady friend, if that suits her, of course."

Louis is busily sorting through the stacks of clothing. She quickly finds that the clothing is more or less sorted by size as well as type, so she is able to pick out a pair of jackets in short order.

Robert returns the smile.  His goal is to keep at least enough of the shopkeeper's attention that it would not be terribly obvious that Louis is not just a clean faced youth.  Her extreme height for a woman would certainly help in that ruse.  He shakes his head bit ruefully though as their plan is knocked on its head, at least with the shopkeeper.

"A pair of jackets and such will suit us fine.  We're headed to a costume ball and are looking for the right appearance." He decided to roll with the blows and come up with a plausible reason.

The woman, Norwegian, judging by her accented English, nods gravely. "Of course, Sir."

Louis approaches the counter with a pair of thigh length jackets of dubious heritage and cleanliness.  Beside the jackets, she lays out two American style farmer's hats and two plain linen scarves. A rucksack large enough to contain their own clothing goes atop the pile.

The shopkeeper glances over the purchases. "That will be a half crown, Sir."

Robert smiles at Louis as she approaches the counter.  He digs in his pocket for a wallet and pulls out a handful of coins.  Money was not plenty for the young couple but with his half pay and their jobs they made out ok.  "Here you go ma'am.  Can we change in the back?" Perhaps they might be able to slip out the back as well.

"Certainly, Sir." The woman shows them to the back room, where there is indeed a door leading outside, presumably into the alley. When she steps out, Louis leans close to Robert. "That is the most expensive used clothing I've purchased."

It takes but a few moments to put their jackets and hats into the rucksack, and to don the purchased clothing. Their long arms were still plainly visible, but many people went about armed, given the wartime conditions in the city.

Robert nodded to Louis as the woman left.  "Think of it as a bribe to stay quiet about us.  This is a perfect way to break any tail by heading out the back.  Just be wary.  If they are going to jump us they will be watching the rear as well."  Robert checks his shotgun and kisses her. "Cover me."

Carefully he opens the back door and looks about.

Louis returns the kiss, and nods in assent. She slides the bolt on her rifle back to verify a round is chambered, closes the action, and slides the safety off. "Ready."

As he surmised, the door opens into an alley. The alley runs behind the next building, and he can see a cab pass by at the far end. There is a wall in the other direction, but he can't tell if the alley ends or turns.

The only thing moving in the alley is a pair of feral cats scavenging in a garbage can.

Seeing that the alley looks clear, Robert motions for Louis to join him and points down the alley.  "I saw a cab run by down that end.  Let's head there and see if we can't catch one directly."

Louis nods and follows Robert down the alley, constantly scanning behind and above them. The walk to the street is uneventful. This street is the same one Robert took into this quarter of the city. They are two blocks west of the Imperial Way bridge, which crosses the Haar Canal. The Explorer's Club is about a mile and a half away, on Ship Street across from the Residency.

There are a few pedestrians about, and Robert can hear the bugle calling assembly from the Old Barracks. A single police officer stands at his post on the near side of the bridge, near a collection of shops flanking the structure on a side street.

Robert glances about. "If they are going to catch us it would be at the bridge.  There are too few pedestrians around for cover.  Let's at least head down the other way and get a cab or a small boat to cross the canal."

"I've seen cabs in front of those stores," Louis points to the buildings beside the bridge. "And, there is a canal taxi about a block north of the bridge."

Robert considers their options.  He actually feels safer on the water.  "Come on then, let's avoid the bridge and take the water taxi."  Affecting a limp and a bit of a stooped gait he heads north toward the water taxi landing.

Louis follows him up the street toward the water taxi. Ten minutes later, they are at the landing. A Martian woman stands next to the elegantly shaped canal boat, similar to a Venetian gondola, yet with lines all its own. A human couple is disembarking, and they nod politely to Robert and Louis. They hurry on, though, and don't seem to take much notice of them.

"Where to, my friends?" The Martian woman bows slightly. "The fare depends on how far you wish to go today." Her English is heavily accented with a somewhat musical lilt, strange but beautiful.

Robert returns the bow.  "Greetings and thanks," he says in heavily accented Martian before switching to English.  "We wish to go down the canal and to the other side near the Adventurer's Club."

The woman's smile touches her eyes. "You honor me," she says. "For you and your lady, a shilling to the Ship's Street Landing." Louis fishes in her purse and produces the coin with a smile. "Thank you."

The boat pushes off and moves into the canal. The craft is wooden, double ended with sweeping prows. The woman rows with practice ease, moving the craft at about four knots along the near side of the canal's waterway. There are two water taxis visible at the grand intersection about a mile ahead, and a large cargo barge is headed toward you, keeping to the opposite side of the canal.

A light breeze blows down the canal from behind you, carrying with it the ever present smell of Mars - an alien scent that one never quite acclimated to, no matter how long a person stayed on Mars. Robert had been to the Middle East, and the sands of Egypt bore a similar odor, but this was - older. Mars' civilization had been ancient before the first Mesopotamian had laid the cornerstone of their first city.

Louis steps up beside him and takes his arm. "I never dreamed of such a place. It wasn't until my father died, and my cousins asked me to come here that I even considered it."

Robert returned the gesture.  He had enough experience of foreign cultures on Earth to know the importance of learning at least the small things that were important with the local peoples.  Still, his studies of the Martian languages and cultures were only tiny things at the moment.  He had been distracted by a new marriage, a passionate wife and his new job...

As they take to the water of the canal, Robert watches with the operation of the craft with great professional interest.  His eyes sweep over the two other water taxis and the large cargo barge.  Breathing deeply, Robert smiles and gently brings Louis in alongside him under his arm. "This is truly a wonderful place full of history and opportunity.  The wild beauty and the mystery takes away my breath.  Who knows what can be made of this planet in a melding of human and Martian cultures."  He looked down at her.  "Our many children to come will be the lords and ladies, the movers and the shakers of this place."  Robert tightened his grip on her.  "I am sorrowed that your father passed away and that many lives were lost on the ship carrying us here but I still bless the decision that brought you here." His eyes moved away from the scenery for a moment and shifted to hers.  "This is living life rather than languishing as a half pay officer or trudging through the seas in a merchant vessel."  He held the gaze though for only a few seconds for while he was deeply in love with his wife he knew of their danger and his eyes went back to scanning the banks and approaching craft.

The trip is brief; their water taxi heaves to at a waterway marker just short of the great canal intersection. On the banks, several control platforms jut out over the bank, each with a flagman holding red and white striped signal flags. Working in exquisite harmony, the flagmen directed traffic through the intersection, avoiding collisions and undue delays.

The river taxi sits patiently for about five minutes, and then they are waved through the intersection. The boatman rows strongly ahead, seemingly chased by the cargo barge looming up from their right. They turn into the Meepsoor Canal, passing the stone edifice of the New Barracks to their right, and the massive Martian building that houses The Residency to their left. Ahead, the Ship Street bridge arches across the canal, and Robert is soon able to make out the river taxi dock just beyond the bridge.

During the ride, Louis stands next to him, taking in his words. "I thought that the day of the crash would be my last." She suddenly giggles and presses her face to his shoulder. "I never thought I'd meet my maker without a stitch of clothing on, and in bed with a man, to boot."

Robert deeply enjoys the trip on the canal both for the views of the workings of the water craft but more so for the presence of the vital young woman next to him.  His eyes shine with interest and he makes a few quiet comments to Louis that express his abiding curiosity.  As they approach the landing he looks down at her again and tightens his grip on her shoulders.  "You are bold and saucy Louis and caught my eyes from the start.  Had that been my last moment in bed with you it would have been the best.  As it was, what better way to start off our lives together?" Robert leans in and kisses her lightly on the cheek to emphasize his point.

Louis blushes a little, the color only accenting her freckled skin. "I still can't quite believe I did that. I would not change what happened, although I could have done without the loss of life in the crash."

The boat approaches the dock, and a young human man catches the painter tossed by the gondolier. He hauls the taxi in to the pier, and the gondola thumps gently against the rope fenders draped on the weathered wood of the dock.

Robert and Louis gather their belongings and step onto the dock. A set of broad stone steps leads up perhaps twenty feet vertically to the street. The Club is about half a block to their right, across the street bordering the canal. There is much more traffic here; carriages and wagons of all descriptions pass by, hauled by beasts Martian and Earth-bred, and the sidewalk is busy with people. This is a business day, and this is a usual situation for this hour of the day.

Robert smiled warmly.  "I do not regret the time with you either Louis.  That life was lost in the crash doesn't diminish our joy." He helps her out of the little craft, not out of a need but rather affection and gallantry.  Turning back he hands the Martian woman another shilling.  "Thank you for your quickness.  May your travels be safe and prosperous."

Once they mounted the stairs he looked around briefly and then headed toward the Club at a brisk walk.  "Let us hope they do not expect us here."

The Martian woman bows and accepts the coin with a smile. "Safe travels," she says in the local Martian dialect.

The brief walk to the Club's door is uneventful. No one takes any notice of them, and they soon arrive at the Club's main door. Robert is well familiar with this building; the main doors lead to a wide atrium with a concierge's desk at the far side. Stairs flank the atrium on both sides, sweeping up two levels, with open railings on each level facing the atrium. Off to each side of the stairs, double doors lead to the main dining room on the left, and to the main library on the right.

Through the windows flanking the doors, Robert can see two men and a woman speaking to the concierge. He knows one of the men, a retired Scots guards officer named Ian McBride. Nothing seems amiss; they are apparently having a normal conversation.

Robert restrains the urge to run down the street and instead walks normally.  He only starts to relax when they enter the atrium of the club.  All along the walls are trophies of hunts and expeditions, paintings of the successes and failures of members as well as a particularly spectacular globe mounted in the middle of the vaulted room.  It has been painstakingly worked into a nearly perfect scale model of the world at least as it is best known.  Unfortunately far too many areas are blank or only vaguely marked, a constant reminder to members of the club of the enormous work ahead of them.

He walks up to the concierge and as he approaches calls out.  "Ian McBride, how are you today?  Might I have a word with you in the library sir?"

The group turns to Robert as one. The other man is Aaron Chambers, an American who immigrated to Mars years ago, married, and joined the Syrtis Major police force, rising to the rank of captain. He and his wife Myrna are closely connected to Louis' firm, and are good friends to Robert and Louis. His eyes widen as he recognizes Robert and Louis. "Oh, my!" He looks at McBride. "Yes, that is a splendid idea. Mr. Murphy," this to the concierge, "please be sure no one else enters the library until I say otherwise."

McBride refrains from asking questions. "The library, then." Both men step to the side and indicate the closed library doors. "After you."

Robert is pleased to see another familiar face and nods briefly.  He offers Louis his arm and escorts her toward the library.  Holding the door he motions for her and the other two men to enter.  Once they are through he looks around to see who else might be in the luxurious and extensive rooms.

Louis takes his arm, and allows Robert to lead her into the library. The room is familiar, and it is the same as Robert remembered. The oaken shelves reach nearly fifteen feet toward the ornately gilded ceiling with it's crystal chandeliers hung from ornate chains. This library boasts the largest collection of books on Mars, and features tomes about every conceivable subject, including some original works by such notables as Thomas Edison and Shakespeare.

The doors close behind them, and Aaron ushers everyone into the sumptuous chairs of the main conversation area. He settles into his own chair, but perches on the edge to regard Robert and Louis closely. "I don't know how to say this delicately, but you two are wanted for murder."

Robert helps Louis to a chair and then sits down himself.  As Aaron speaks he glances at Louis and then shakes his head slightly.  "I have killed a man and two Martians yesterday but only in self defense.  Tell me the circumstances of the warrant."

"Martians?" Aaron looks confused for a second, and then shakes his head. He extracts a small notebook from his pocket. "You are both wanted in connection with the apparent murder of Josef Muller, of the German Consulate, and of Harriet Almsman. Miss Almsman was found dead in your apartment after a constable forced the door upon noting blood on the door and frame. Muller was found dead in the stairwell. The doorman was also killed, but there is an eyewitness that says Mr. Muller shot him. Autopsies are due to be performed this morning on all three victims."

Aaron sits back in his chair and regards Robert calmly. "So, what happened?"

McBride and Myrna stay silent, but their faces are twin studies of shock and consternation.

Robert had a thoughtful look on his face as he listened. "Muller was chasing Miss Alsman, trying to kill her.  I guess he succeeded for she did die in our apartment.  That was after I shot him dead on the stairs as he pursued her." He looked over at Louis.  "I think you need to add your part of this to put it all in context."

Louis repeats what she'd told Robert last night, and adds her rendition of Robert's ambush in the alley. She sits calmly as she relates the story, her emotions well in hand. Robert can sense the stress in her voice and manner, though.

"My God," McBride breathes. "How horrid!"

Myrna rises and crosses to the bar set against one wall. She pours a little brandy in a glass and brings it to Louis. The detective takes it with a murmur of thanks, and takes a sip.

Robert sits but taps his foot softly in barely restrained eagerness.  "There was not time to wait for the police and resolve the manner of Harriet and the dead German." He sighed.  "I deeply regret leaving poor Harriet's body unattended but Louis was in deadly danger.  No gentleman would do otherwise than rush to the side of a lady in such circumstances."  He turned then and looked at the others.  "We have come here partly for refuge but also to seek aid in getting safely to the Viceroy."

"I agree," Aaron says, "I would have done the same in your circumstance." He reads his hastily jotted notes for a moment while McBride and Myrna grapple with the news in silence. "Ordinarily, I'd take you to the Viceroy myself, but there are two things to consider. First," he raises a blunt forefinger, "you have no proof that the Germans are actually smuggling arms."

"But, I saw them loading a crate," Louis says quickly.

"Forgive me, but you saw a Martian crew loading a crate marked with an American arms company logo." Aaron replies evenly.

Louis nods, manifestly against her will. "Yes," she concedes.

Aaron nods. "I do not doubt your conclusion that the Germans are involved all the way to their coal bucket helmets, which leads us to the second point. The Imperial Ambassador is, at this moment, ensconced with the Viceroy, raising a cry to Phobos about how their man was callously murdered last night. He also has protested the murders of several other German men in the Harbor District." He smiles grimly. "If I take you in now, it will be months before this matter is resolved, and I can assure you that I will not be allowed to move against the German smugglers on suspicion alone."

Robert frowned and then nodded, coming to an instant decision.  "Then we need to have real evidence to present to the Viceroy.  We need to hunt down the proof of the rifles now, immediately both to stop a future slaughter and to absolve me and Louis."

Aaron nods. "I agree. I regret that I cannot be involved in this any further. I will not take official note of your presence here today, but I will not be able to do so again." He smiles sadly. "I am sorry, Robert. If either of you is arrested, then I can and will help you, so please notify me." He hands Robert and Louis each a card. "Present this to the jailers, and they will contact me immediately."

Aaron stands. "Now, I must take my leave. Good hunting to you both." With that, he and Myrna exit the library and are gone.

McBride watches him go with a sigh. "Yes, well, I understand his position." He smiles fiercely under his bushy mustache. "I have no such impediment, and I have been bored out of my skull these past months." He leans forward, his eyes bright. "So, what can I do to help?" Ian earned his pension the hard way, having taken several bullets in a pitched battle in India. The battle earned him the Victoria Cross and a permanent disability. He is ambulatory, but not someone Robert would consider hale and hearty.

Robert took the card and shook Aaron's hand. "I understand Aaron.  You are a good man."  He waited until Aaron and Myrna left and turned back to Louis and McBride.  "Well, it's up to us.  I'd say we take up where Louis left off with her investigation.  The captain of the ship carrying the contraband might be a good start."

"I agree," Louis says. "How do we do that, when every constable in the city is looking for us by now, including Aaron?"

"The Harbor District is a very dangerous place," McBride puts in. "Even groups of people avoid it at night."

Robert sat down next to Louis and took her hand as he thought.  "We'll have to elaborate on our disguises to be able to move freely.  We can color our hair and make you look more like a young man Louis.  A false beard and ruffian appearance will fit in down on the docks.  It is still daylight at least for now.  If we have to operate there in the dark we will have to go well armed.  Possibly we might enlist the aid of some of the criminal elements.  They might cooperate if offered some leniency from the authorities or the possibility of such."

McBride snorts and looks at Louis. "Merlin himself couldn't do enough to make *you* look like a man, lass!"

Louis laughs. "Why, how sweet of you to notice, Ian." She smiles at him.

"Aich," McBride says with an embarrassed wave of his hand. He mumbles something under his breath, and stops with an imploring look.

Louis' smile widens until her dimples show. "Oh, I know you meant well. You are right," she glances at Robert, "I'd have to wear some bulky clothing to pass for a man."

"I can't say that I know outright criminals," McBride says thoughtfully, "but I may know someone who does." The old soldier heaves himself to his feet with a grimace. "My old bones are rusty today. Shall we go?"

Robert laughs at McBride's comments on Louis.  "Ian's right, you are shaped for things other than impersonating a man Louis."  He considered their options.  "Dressing in bulky clothing will draw suspicion but otherwise even if we disguise your hair and face there are few women of your height and build on Mars.  Do you think you can disguise yourself enough to move around the city as a man or a woman Louis?"

He thought as about their other options.  "I think we make our reconnaissance first and see if we can discover what is needed on our own.  The criminal element surely will be aware of smuggling operations in their territory so we can fall back on them if we have to."

Louis nods. "I can manage to pass as a man. I've done it a few times before, after all."

McBride nods. "Suit yourself, lad. I'll be back here after high tea, if ye change your mind." He starts for the door, working his right leg as he goes.

Louis fishes in her purse. "I have 2 pounds, six and ten. The rest of my money is at home. We may be able to make a withdrawal at the bank, but we would have to hurry."

Robert nodded as well.  "It would be best to try to pass Louis off as a man if at all possible."  He rose and shook Ian's hand.  "Thank you for your friendship McBride, we'll see you in a few hours."

He turned to Louis.  "I have even less in my pockets.  Let's go get as much money out as we reasonably can right away."  Robert reached to help her up.  "Let's go then, out the servant's entrance I think."

McBride nods brusquely. Louis steps up and kisses him on his grizzled cheek. "Thank you, Ian. We will see you soon."

McBride nods. "Take care of him, lass, and yourself, too."

"Always," she says with a smile. The old warrior turns and exits through the door.

Robert finds £1 15/5 in his own pockets, all in coins. The couple has about £400 in the bank, and the nearest location is two blocks northeast. Right across the street is a police substation.

"Lead on," Louis says as she follows Robert. They make their way to the rear of the building, passing two of the house maids on their way. The other members present are all at breakfast, and the smell of food wafting from the dining room makes Robert's stomach growl. He and Louis are standing in a hallway, with the back door in front of them, the dining room to their right behind a set of swinging double doors, and the kitchen to their left through a doorway with the double doors blocked open.

Robert considers pausing for breakfast, even something snatched from the kitchen but shakes his head.  He glances at the kitchen with a rueful sigh and then heads toward the door.  "We can eat later, now for the bank."

Louis makes no comment - hunger is nothing new to her. Life on the frontier saw a lot of it. The alley behind the club is empty. There are exits to the streets left and right. The closest way to the bank is to go left.

Robert checks his watch quickly.  It is a fine naval chronometer and accurate to the second.  "Perfect timing, we should get there just as they open." He held the door open for Louis and then followed her out. "We can take the side streets to get most of the way there but in going up to the front door we'll have to go right by the precinct station."

"Just don't act like you're being hunted," Louis says. "That's the quickest way to be found out." The pair makes their way to the corner of the bank building. It stands at the street corner, and the main door is about thirty feet down. Across the street, two officers are walking north on the sidewalk, and a police jitney is pulled up at the station door. There are several heavy wagons and a handful of carriages moving on the street. The sidewalks are not crowded, but there are thirty or so people in fairly close proximity going about their business.

The odor of freshly baked bread reaches Robert's nose from the bakery on the far side of the bank, and the cafe on the corner by the police station has a dozen patrons in view at their al fresco tables.

Robert nods to Louis. "That hunted look is always dead giveaway for the guilty man.  Let's take your advice and stroll right up to the doors." He glances over at the bakery as his stomach growls.  "And then let's find a bite of breakfast somewhere safe."  He nodded to her and then took off walking at a steady, casual pace.

The pair makes it to the door without incident. The doorman, who is armed, opens the door with a smile. He is the same gentleman who has been there for over a year now, and he clearly recognizes Louis and Robert. "Good morning, Sir and Madam." He eyes their weapons, but makes no comment about them.

The bank lobby is as Robert remembers it - the clarks at their podium desks behind a half wall partition, and the tellers at similar podiums grouped on the opposite side from the clarks. A well appointed sitting area occupies the center of the floor on this level, and a pair of stairways flanking the sitting area lead up to the second level.

Robert nods in greeting as well.  "Good morning Jackson, thank you." He slowly reaches in and hands over his pistol.  "Would you hold this for me please.  I'd rather not cause a fuss.  We've been in the field for a while and haven't gotten used to the city quite yet again."

Jackson holds up his hand with a smile and shakes his head. "Please, do not worry yourself about it. It would be an insult to a Queen's officer and a capable lady to disarm them." His manner is relaxed, and Robert notes the man's scarred cheek, steady gray eyes, and confident stance.

Robert reaches out and shakes Jackson's hand.  His grip is firm and his own eyes are clear and direct.  "You're a fine, sturdy fellow Jackson, thank you."  With a nod to Louis he proceeds directly to the nearest teller.

"Excuse me, I would like to make a withdrawal from my account."

The teller is a very young and attractive woman, probably no more than sixteen, with a complexion the color of coffee. "Certainly, sir." She brings out a paper and licks up her pen. "May I have your name and the amount of the withdrawal?" Her accent pegs her as being from South Africa, Robert judges.

Robert nods.  He notes the pretty teller and another time would have flirted with her.  Now however his attention was fully held by the woman next to him.  "I am Robert Darlington.  I would like to withdraw fifty pounds please."

'Certainly, Sir." The teller completes the withdrawal notice, obtain's Robert's signature, and turns to the apparatus at her right hand. It is a boxlike device about the size of a large hatbox, with a collection of keys, much like a typewriter. The teller inserts the paper into a small tray in the side of the machine, and presses a sequence of keys. The paper disappears inside, while the air-driven device clicks and whirs. The paper spits back out, and the teller places it into a small polished wood cylinder, closes the lid, and drops it into one of several pneumatic tubes directly behind the apparatus.

"It will take a few moments, Mister Darlington," the teller informs him with a dazzling smile. Said smile dims a little when Louis smiles slightly and raises an eyebrow at the girl. "And Missus Darlington," she adds.

"Thank you," Louis says with an undercurrent of amusement in her voice. True to the teller's word, a cylinder pops into the receptacle, and the now blushing girl retrieves it. She opens it, and a tightly bound roll of banknotes drops onto the counter. She counts out a twenty, four fivers and ten one pound notes. "Will this be acceptable, Sir?"

Robert resists the natural urge to smile back at the pretty girl.  He smiles though as Louis asserts her possession in a subtle, feminine way.  Were it the other way around Robert might find himself in a duel but with women it was far more civil at least on the surface.

He waited quietly, not sweeping the room anxiously as his concerned urged him to.  When the money came back through the pneumatic tube Robert watched as he counted it.  "Most modern and efficient miss, the bank is to be commended.  That amount will be most acceptable."

"Thank you, Mister Darlington. Is there anything else I may assist either of you with today?"

Robert nodded in thanks and then shook his head.  "No miss, I think we are done here.  Thank you for your assistance."  He turned to Louis.  "Shall we go darling?  There are other errands today."

"Yes, we must be about our errands." She follows Robert out of the bank. The street is unchanged, the traffic still passes in both directions, and the officers you saw on the way in are now seated at the cafe, being served by a waiter. "Where to?" Louis asks quietly.

Robert looks about as well.  "Let's get off this street for a start and find somewhere to eat.  I'm starved."  He took her arm as though they were out for a stroll and headed down the block, away from the cafe to the corner.  Turning the corner he breathed more easily.  "There was a nice place a couple of blocks down if I recall.  We've never eaten there but that should be good as we don't want anyone recognizing us."

"Now, that's the most romantic thing you've said all morning," Louis deadpans. The walk to the restaurant is uneventful, and there isn't a constable in sight. All of the tables here are inside, and the smell of food wafts through the open windows. A sign at the door announces that guests may seat themselves, and Louis picks out a table toward the back wall, near the alley door.

A waiter arrives almost immediately. He is dark complected, and probably hailed from India - except for his accent, which sounds American. He produces two one page menus. "Good morning to ye. What may I bring you?"

Robert laughs, his voracious appetite a joke between the newlyweds.  "You've always said I have a one track mind darling.  Right now that track is laid toward food."  He holds a chair for her as they sit though and his hand lingers on her shoulder for a moment as a small squeeze sends his affection.

It takes only a few moments for Robert to make a decision.  His stomach is growling yet he defers to Louis.  "What would you like dear?"

"I'll have the fry up," Louis says. "Have them scramble the eggs, please. I'd also like some coffee."

The waiter nods. "Of course. And you, sir?"

Robert thinks for a bit as Louis orders.  "I'll start with a pot of strong black coffee if you would.  Then a set of four eggs fried and a half rasher of bacon and six slices of toast, marmalade and butter for the toast please."

He leans forward after the waiter leaves.  "So should we head down to the docks immediately?  It seems somewhat like the bull in a china shop."

Louis thinks for a moment. "Our problem is, as Aaron pointed out, we do not have proof that the Germans are behind all of this. I have no doubt that they are," she breaks off as the waiter returns with a pot of coffee, sets up the service, and departs with a nod and a smile.

"I have do doubt that they are indeed smuggling," she finishes. "So far, our only lead is the Martian boat captain. I don't know if Derry is involved, though we could try to find him, too."

Robert pours two cups of coffee as the waiter leaves.  He considers her words as he sips the hot beverage and then sighs.  "Oh, that is strong and hot."  He sets the cup back down on the saucer and catches her eyes.  "It may be best then to find Derry first off.  It will be safer at least than going directly to the docks."

Louis nods. "I agree. I have his address." She extracts a small notebook from her purse and consults it briefly. The address is about a mile and a half away, and within a half mile of Robert and Louis' apartment.

Robert nods grimly.  "I think we need to pay him a visit, an unpleasant visit.  After the revelations of further German smuggling and Henrietta's death he may come to his senses and cooperate."

"He may cooperate a bit better if I ask," Louis says, "and not just because I'm a woman. Penny found out that he's Irish, and he hates the English." She sips her coffee and grimaces. "Why is it that you sailors make coffee that could strip the hide from a buffalo? Even cowboy coffee is more palatable." She dumps two teaspoons of sugar and the same amount of cream into her cup, stirs it, and takes another sip. "Better."

Robert shook his head. "We had an Irish officer aboard my second ship.  He struggled not only with a chip on his shoulder but the reputation that most Irish have for temper and Popery."  He nodded.  "I'll let you sweet talk him certainly then."

Sipping his own coffee, steaming hot as he liked it, Robert chuckled.  "Ahhh... we use it to strip paint and clean decks don't you know."  After a moment he grew more serious.  "Did you mention that Harriet was involved in a relationship with Derry?  I think her husband worked down the hall from me."

"They were lovers, according to Penny. The real question is, did she take up with him before or after signing on with the Germans?" Louis looks past Robert's shoulder. "Here's our breakfast."

The waiter sets down two plates and arranges flatware for the couple. "May I bring you anything else?" The food looks and smells wonderful.

Robert nods and starts to speak but stops as the waiter approaches.  His stomach growls loudly at the smell of the hot food.  After glancing at Louis, Robert shook his head. "No, this smells delicious, thank you."

When the waiter departed he continued.  "Do you think she may have led him astray?"

Louis snorts derisively. "Hardly. Derry would league with the Devil himself to make a shilling, and that is also what his regiment says about him, not just me."

She takes a bite of eggs. "Wonderful. I'm so hungry." She grins at Robert. "Now, I wonder why I have such an appetite this morning?" Her look turns smoldering. "And when can I work up another appetite like this one?"

Robert shakes his head.  "There will be no shaming or appealing to a better nature that does not exist.  He'll be a hard case.  Harriet's husband would be worth talking to as well.  The problem is that we are wanted and word will get out.  I think that Harriet and perhaps her cousin might be keys to the German connection."

He shifts his attention to her as she smiled to him, thoughts of intrigue and spy craft wiped from his mind.  "You are a bold and saucy American temptress."  Robert lowers his voice a bit, the tone deepening with a passion that was familiar to Louis.  "I have just the exercise regime to whet that appetite.  It may be a bit rigorous but you'll find it stimulating."

"Oh, of that I have no doubt." Louis spears a piece of sausage on her fork, lifts it to her lips, and runs her tongue along it for a moment before slowly placing in her mouth, her eyes locked on his the entire time.

Robert shifts in his seat and adjusts his pants as though suddenly uncomfortable.  He meets her and gaze and his blue eyes start to smolder with a dangerous fire.  She knows that Robert is deeply passionate and very attracted to Louis with very little desire to exercise restraint in physical aspect of their marriage bed.  Robert takes a scoop of poached eggs and begins to eat them.  "I find my appetite has shifted to desire a more satisfying meal Mrs. Darlington." There is a smile on his face but his breathing intensifies as he reacts to her sally.

Louis' cheeks show some color as she reads his emotions. The frontier-bred woman was unlike any Robert had experienced before. She was not only a physically powerful person, but her strength of will and capacity for passion nearly equaled his. For all her strength, though, Louis' greatest gift was her ability to surrender to her husband, to simply give herself to him.

Her smile is more demure now, and she glances around to be sure that she hasn't drawn unwanted attention. "I will be glad to participate in that at our first opportunity," she replies in a softer voice.

Robert leans in more closely, his hand stretching out to take hers.  Her entrance into his life had been burst upon him like a bolt of lightning.  She so far exceeded all the women he'd ever known in force of personality, will and shear passion that he could no longer imagine his life without her.  He smiled at her and shook his head slightly.  "You complete me as no other person could both in our marriage bed and as a pillar of strength, wisdom and love." He took a deep breath and calmed banked the fires in his heart just a bit. "There will be a time soon my darling."

Louis squeezes his hand. "I look forward to it." She holds his hand and his gaze for what seems like minutes, and then she smiles. "I love you, Robert."

Robert held her gaze, the troubles of the world forgotten for a moment as they existed together to the exclusion of all else.  His expression changed, no less intense and terrifically possessive but thoughtful now and loving, gentle in his own way.  "I love you Louis Wetzel Robertson."  His voice was soft and deep with conviction and integrity that defined his existence now.

Louis sits for a few moments, basking in the warmth of their shared love. Finally, she clears her throat. "So, how are we to go about getting out of this mess?" She smiles crookedly, acknowledging the abrupt change of subject.

Robert took a deep breath and his smile turned wry as Louis changed the subject.  "Well, let's check into Derry first.  He's our lead to the smugglers and the Germans."

"It just so happens that I know just where to find him," Louis says with a smile that bears little resemblance to the one a few moments earlier. The last time Robert saw that smile, a wolf was wearing it.

Apparently, both of them are famished, because the breakfast seems to vanish. Two empty plates sit before them, and they are both on their second cup of coffee. Louis pulls out her pocket watch. "Our friend is tipping a pint at a wonderful little place near the Old Barracks. Also," Louis taps her rifle, "what else to we need before we go after him? I would rather have a pistol or two than this."

Robert thinks for a moment and his smile grows to match the one on her face.  "Then let's go share a pint with our new friend."  He thinks for a moment about the weapons.  "Your rifle is precious but there are places we can keep it.  There is a pawn broker nearby that carries a large selection of guns gained from adventurers and ex-soldiers.  We can leave the gun in his care and buy ourselves a pair of pistols.  We can actually pawn it but we'll have at least a few days to retrieve it before he can sell it."

Louis nods. "The person I took it from has no further need of it. Let's go."

Louis extracts the cost of the meal and a suitable gratuity from her coin purse, and the two of them are soon back out on the street. The pawn broker is on the same block as the Club, so it's only a short walk away. Many of the Club's members frequent this establishment, so the portly, bespectacled man behind the counter is not unknown to Robert and Louis.

"Hello, again!" he calls out. "Please, come in. What adventures are you off to on this fine day?"

The store is packed with equipment of all descriptions, most of it used to one degree or another. Despite the seeming chaos, the wares are arranged into bins, barrels, or on shelves. Items that are in good repair are segregated from worn items. Robert knows that there is a small powder magazine in the rear of the building which holds all manner of explosives. Firearms of all types are displayed in cases and on racks, and there are shelves of ammunition.

This is a family business, for the owner's wife, adult son, and daughter-in-law are working around the store. Robert remembers the man's name is Cornelius, but he can't recall any of the family members' names.

Robert smiles and shakes hands with the owner.  "Cornelius, well met sir.  Intrigue and spycraft are the words for today." He chuckles as he speaks.  "Actually we'd like to look at your selection of hand guns.  With the unpleasantness from Earth spreading to Mars I'd like to see that my wife is well armed."

"Certainly, sir." Cornelius indicates the handgun cabinet with a sweep of his hand. "Right over here."

Louis crosses to the counter and quickly picks a pair of Webley pistols identical to Robert's weapon. "There's no point in carrying different cartridges," she explains. "We will need clothing, too."

She is quickly attended to by Cornelius' wife, and soon reappears clad in a khaki bush outfit, boots, and a broad brimmed hat. Louis had also selected a small backpack, and sets about filling it with her purse, a canteen, spare ammo, and tops it off with a small bedroll.

She turns to Robert. "What else may we need?"

Robert motioned for Louis to proceed him and then followed Cornelius.  He looks in at the selection of weapons and smiles.  "You have quite an impressive collection sir."

He watches as Louis selects her weapons and adds a second pistol for himself.  "I might as well have a second weapon myself as well as a change of clothing."  He selects a set of clothing similar to that Louis was wearing but in a darker color.  Robert added a larger pack along with similar materials.  "I would like a sap and a set of brass knuckles.  We both should have a workable knife.  Also, do you wnat to keep the rifle for pick up later Louis or sell it directly?"

OOG: Holding for the equipment list...

"I will keep the Mauser," Louis says. "I can't retrieve the Sharps, so this will have to do." She wraps it in a canvas rifle bag, and lashes it to her pack. She exhales as she hoists the pack onto her back. "I haven't done this in a while." With her gear and mannish clothing, Louis will easily pass for a man at anything further than normal conversation distance.

Robert buys a few more items and procures ammunition and a case for his shotgun.  "You look quite the adventuress Louis."  He shuffles his gear around.  "We should disguise some of this to look more like loads a worker might carry.  We will attract less attention."

Cornelius rummages around and comes up with a bag long enough for the rifles. Robert has no idea what it may have been used for, but it seems to be a good fit.

Louis grins at her husband. "You may get more than a strange look if you should kiss me in a public place."

Robert laughed as he stowed the shotgun in the long bag.  "Or look at you with passion in my gaze Louis.  We'll have to be careful.  Now in private..." He smiled and shook his head slightly.  "Shall we head off and find this Mr. Derry?"

Louis laughs. "I will hold you to that."

The bill comes to two pounds, and they are ready to leave. They step outside, where the street is as it was - just the normal traffic, with the canal to their left. The Club is four doors down on the right.

Robert joins her in low laughter and brushes her hand quickly as he reaches for a box of ammunition.  After paying the bill he thanks the proprietor and after a check of his weapons loads proceeds Louis out onto the street, more from protection than gallantry.  After looking about briefly he nods to her and heads down the street.  Robert walks by the club on the opposite side of the street, heads down a block and then back to allow them to examine the place from the outside.

The Club seems to be the same as it was before. Robert observes a man leaving the club. He walks to the corner and stands at the taxi stand to hail a cab. Neither Robert nor Louis recognize him. Considering that the Club has well over two hundred members, this isn't too unusual.

With a shrug Robert looks at Louis and then heads over to the club.  He'll glance at the man as they walk by but not make eye contact.

The man appears to be of Oriental heritage, but Robert still doesn't recognize him. Louis shakes her head negatively as she walks past, as well. The concierge is still at his post, as Robert can see through the door.

Robert returns the nod and heads to the door of the club and inside.

"Good morning, Mr. Darlington," the concierge says with a small bow. "Breakfast is being served in the main dining area, and the lecture on the state of the liftwood trade will begin in thirty minutes in the White Room."

Robert nods in response to the concierge.  "Good morning Smythe and thank you."  He's pleased that at least so far the news of their arrest warrants have not spread this far. "Might we impose upon the hospitality of the cloak room to stores our bundles for the time being?"

"Of course, Sir." The concierge leads the way around the corner to a rather large room lined with wardrobes, shelves and coat racks. "Do you require that the items be under lock and key?"

Robert shook his head.  "No, certainly not in a gentleman's club Smythe."  He takes Louis' pack and sets it next to his.  Once their possessions are settled he takes his leave of the concierge and with Louis heads to the bar where they expected to encounter Derry.

Once outside, Louis looks at Robert. "Do we stay on the streets, or take a water taxi?"

Robert looked about and considered.  "Let's take the water taxi.  There will be less chance of a random encounter with the police or someone who might know that we are sought after criminals."  He says this last lightly.  Thinking for a moment he nods to Louis and then heads down toward the canal to find a boat person.

"I agree," Louis says. The boat ride is uneventful, and soon the pair finds themselves outside Derry's favorite haunt. The racket - one would be hard pressed to call it music - of a woefully out of tune piano emanates from the open door of the establishment, named, according to the sign over the door, "The Bilge Rat". The music seems to also drive a sulfurous cloud of cigarette and cigar smoke from the same door. The last police box Robert saw is two blocks away, across the street from the Old Barracks. It is a little after 9am, and the day shift officers are on duty by now. The vehicle traffic is moderately heavy, with wagons and dray beasts Martian and human plodding their way along. There are a few pedestrians, with an equal mixture of humans and Martians.

OOG: Louis kept both her pistols and her boot knife. What weapons is Robert carrying?
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:30, Wed 07 Oct 2015.

Robert is lost in thought as they ride down the canal to the landing nearest the bar.  His hand brushes absently against Louis as they sit and he smiles at her occasionally.  He tipped the boatman well and heads directly to the bar.  Pausing across the street and down the block from the bar he shakes his head.  "Certainly a den of scum and villainy.  Let's go see if we can find Derry and shake something out of him.  It will take threats to get him talking."

OOC: He has his pistol and a boot knife as well.  He has a sap in his coat pocket.

Louis nods. "I will watch our backs."

The interior of "The Bilge Rat" lives up to its billing. The odor of bad tobacco competes with the stench of stale sweat and a faint hint of urine as the pair walks through the doorway. A ramshackle bar squats against the far wall, backed by a gilded mirror that may have been clean at one point in its existence. Rows of bottles line the wall, and two people are in view, working behind the bar.

A dozen tables hold the bar's patrons, and a cleared area at the back hosts a dartboard. Six tables are occupied, and a quick mental count tallies to around fourteen men and three women. A man and a woman tend the bar, and they alone seem to take notice of Robert and Louis.

"There," Louis says quietly. "Back table by the dart board. His back is to us." Robert sees a broad shouldered, red haired man clad in a gray jacket, sitting with two other men.
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:20, Thu 08 Oct 2015.

Robert nods, glances over at the figure.  "Let's approach them slowly," and heads to the bar.  "A pair of beers," he calls out gruffly to the two bar tenders.

The woman quickly pours the drinks, and hands them over with a curt nod. Louis fishes out a coin to pay for them, and picks up her glass, but she simply holds it in her left hand, not taking a drink.

One of the patrons at the nearest table glances up at the pair, and then goes back to his conversation.

Robert takes his drink and walks over to the table.  "Derry?  Can I buy you a drink?  I have a bit of business I'd like to talk to you about."

Derry turns his head to regard Robert with ice water blue eyes. Even in uniform, he manages to look seedy and unkempt. His blonde hair is too long and uncombed, and he apparently forgot to shave today. "Shove off, mate. I don't like yer looks, and I don't talk to damned Englishmen."

Robert stares back, unfazed by the reception having dealt with unruly sailors and locals since he was in his early teens.  "I don't much like your looks or your attitude either.  Money talks though.  You've taken the Queen's shilling, will you take her pounds sterling?"

Derry's eyes sharpen, and he indicates the empty chair to his left. Then, he notices Louis. "Well, now, things are looking up." He smiles at her, an expression which would have been much more effective if Derry practiced good oral hygiene.

The other man at the table chuckles and stands. "I'll be off then, Brian." He is short, wiry, and dark of hair and eyes. He nods politely to Louis, and departs. Derry nods without taking his eyes off Louis.

Louis takes the man's seat at the table and eyes Derry coldly, content to leave the talking to her husband - for the moment, at least.

Robert resists the urge to punch out Derry as he leers at Louis.  He takes a deep breath and sits down.  Robert waits until the other man leaves before he starts talking.  As he waits he places one hand in his lap below the table, masking the move by taking a long drink of his beer.  "I need to move goods out to the Martian lands and I've heard you are good at avoiding Imperial entanglements."

"An' who told ye that, pray tell?" Derry spares Robert a glance, and returns his attention to Louis. She, in turn, takes a drink of her own beer, sets it carefully on the table, and regards Derry with a look just a shade removed from a totally blank stare.

Robert continues to drink his beer and then answers, his hand finding his gun.  "A fellow with a European accent."

"Ha!" Derry barks a laugh. "Very well, then. I might be willin' t' help ye, if ye have coin enough." He looks squarely at Robert. "I'll warn ye here an' now, mate. Cross me, and me lads will see t'ye, good an' proper." He bares his teeth in what only the most charitable would call a smile. "Otherwise, we will get on like a house afire, right?"

"I have coin if you have the ability to move dangerous cargoes without getting caught."  He laughed without humor. "Oh, I'm sure we'll get along famously."

Derry leans back and studies Robert closely. "Aye, then," he says at length. "There's a warehouse on the south corner of Fourth Street and the Thieves Way. Meet me there at five o'clock, and we will make terms." He looks around. "This is not a good place to speak further of it."

Louis looks at Robert and nods almost imperceptibly.

Robert nods and drains his beer.  He sets the stein down on the table and rises slowly.  "Very well then, 5 o'clock.  We'll be there." He glances at Louis, meeting her eye in agreement.  With that he turns away with out further courtesy and heads toward the door for he has no desire to deal further with the man.

Louis sets her stein on the table and follows her husband outside. Derry keeps his seat, and no one else takes any notice of them. Back on the street, the traffic looks the same as when they entered. Louis steps up beside Robert. "What a disgusting example of humanity he is." She sighs. "What's next?"

Louis sets her stein on the table and follows her husband outside. Derry keeps his seat, and no one else takes any notice of them. Back on the street, the traffic looks the same as when they entered. Louis steps up beside Robert. "What a disgusting example of humanity he is." She sighs. "What's next?"

Robert remains quiet until they leave the bar. "He's definitely trash. I could barely restrain myself from striking him in there." He took a deep breath.  "I think we walk down by the warehouse and check out the area first."

Louis nods. "We should get our gear, then. This area is very dangerous, and if we are obviously armed, it should help us avoid trouble."

Robert leaned forward and gave Louis a kiss on the cheek.  "I can't count the reasons that I love you but that is another one."  He smiled and then headed back to the club.

She blushes and giggles. "If you are trying to be rid of me, that is not the way to be about it."

The pair arrives at the club without incident. Upon entry, they find the concierge at his customary place. "Hello, again," he says. "I take it you have returned for your belongings?"

Robert laughs but withdraws after a quick brush of the back of his hand against hers.  "Rid of you? Nay fair lady I would say that you're well and thoroughly stuck with me for good."

He is alert but not paranoid as they return to the club.  Robert nods to the concierge and passes him a 1 pound note (OOC: enough money I assume).  "Yes, please if you would have our belongings fetched."

The concierge stares at the note and opens his mouth to object, but Louis hold up her hand. "Go buy your family something nice with it; it's a gift from us." He nods, pockets the note, and opens the secure area.

Robert and Louis find their gear as they left it. The time is ten fifteen, according to the ornate clock over the concierge's desk.

Robert smiles and nods as well.  "We've had some very important recent success and wish to share it.  Please take the gift as our thanks."  He hefts his pack and helps Louis with hers.  He heads outside and starts to walk down the street.  "Let's take a walk by the warehouse location first and then have lunch while we think of our next steps."

The Harbor District proper is even more run down that Robert remembers. Louis leads the way through the unswept and carelessly maintained streets. There are still wagons moving about, and small groups of humans and Martians going about their business, but no one travels alone. Even the police - teams of armed officers on horseback - seem to keep to the main streets.

Louis also keeps to the main streets, pulling her hat low to disguise her face. When they spot a police patrol, she finds a shop or alley to duck into until they pass. This is not too remarkable, the pair notes, as many of the other people here seem to be avoiding the police as well.

Once into the warehouses proper, Louis is forced to use less traveled streets. "This is almost safer at night," she says quietly. "Easier to hide, but also more folk about you do not want to meet."

Robert keeps his hand in his pocket with the pistol ready as they head into the more dangerous part of town.  He shook his head as they headed off into the side streets.  "There's not much to be done about it.  I'd like to see the warehouse area before we meet later."  Robert looks about.  "Let's hope it doesn't come to violence."

A few minutes of walking north brings the pair to an a alley about two blocks from the canal. "The warehouse I saw Verinus in is right down there," Louis points to a nondescript gray building of human construction about fifty yards down the alley. The alley is bordered by other warehouses on both sides, two or three stories tall. There are three fire escapes on each side, and the usual collection of wastebins, some on castors. The street has only a few dray wagons in evidence, the nearest about fifty yards south.

Louis walks into the alley. "I was able to sneak in through an unlocked door," she explains. They get about ten yards into the alley, when the hair on the back of Robert's neck stands up.

Robert looks about with interest.  He is about to speak when he gets a feeling of danger.  He turns and looks about, his hand gripping his gun in his coat pocket.

From a doorway near the street behind them, a pair of Martians step into the alley. One carries a wicked looking blade similar to a Gurkha, and the other carries a pistol.

"Ah, here we go," Louis says. A quick look past her shows four more Martians in the alley ahead, two armed with similar blades, one with a pistol, and one  with a long arm of some type.

Robert slowly draws his own pistol and steps to the side.  "Let's not have any trouble here.  There are far easier marks than a couple of blokes with our own guns as well."

Louis moves so that she and Robert are back to back, and draws both her own pistols with easy grace. A sound from overhead draws their attention, and Robert looks up to see another Martian standing on the fire escape with a double barrel shotgun leveled at them.

Robert glances up and sees the shotgun armed Martian and shakes his head.  He's brave but not foolhardy.  "What do you want then?"  Still, his pistol is pointed directly at the one he would guess is the leader.

Louis looks up at the Martian with the scatter gun. "He can't shoot straight down," she says in a low voice.

The pistol-armed Martian laughs. "We want you humans to not come here," he says with a toothy smile. "We teach you and your friend this lesson, yes?" The other native lifts his knife. "Maybe you just lose a few fingers, maybe I cut your heart out."

Robert nods to Louis and whispers to her.  "Step to under the escape when I fire."

He turned back to the Martian.  "Well, I think we need to talk a bit more about that first before we get violent."  With that he fires at the leader with the pistol and steps into cover below the fire escape.

Louis' pistols boom and Robert feels her move under the fire escape with him, and he also feels a bullet tug at his coat as he steps to the side. The Martian above them fires off both barrels, and they are both spattered with harmless fragments of shot bouncing off the pavement. Robert's target staggers backward as the heavy slug punches into his chest, his own shot going wide.

"Two down," Louis calls from behind him. A loud rattling commences on the fire escape above them, and the knife armed Martian in front of Robert takes a step backward.

Robert calls out, well done Louis get the one above us.  He steps slightly forward but still under the escape and fires again at the Martian with the gun.  "Run you bastard," he calls to the one with the knife as he fires.  "You're next to die."

"Right," Louis' voice sounds strangely breathless, like she has been running. Her pistols boom twice more, and a loud yell resounds from above their heads. Frantic footfalls pound the steel floor, and a door slams shut, practically shaking the building.

The Martian Robert wounded collapses onto his side, blood spurting from a wound high in his chest. The other Martian turns and flees around the corner. A quick check to the rear reveals only two bodies on the ground - no more live, or at least threatening, Martians remain in the alley.

Robert sweeps the area for threats, making sure first that the Martian bleeding out before them is not able to attack before he turns to Louis.  "Well done darling.  Are you unharmed?"

Louis holsters her weapons, but she is standing oddly, leaning a little to her left, and her face is even more pale than usual. "I think," she gasps a little, "I am shot." From the street comes the sound of a police whistle and the pounding of shod hooves on the pavement.

Robert holsters his own weapon and quickly checks her over.  "Where are you shot Louis.  We'll get out of here and get you to a doctor."

"We can't get caught - ow!" Louis holds her left side about midway between her shoulder and her hip. "The constables are coming. Hurry!"

Robert nods and sweeps her off his feet.  Cradling her as though walking her across the threshold he heads as swiftly as possible down the alley and away from the sounds of police.  "We'll find a deserted warehouse and bind this first.  I'll not lose you because I fear to take you to a hospital Louis."

"Oh!" Louis exclaims as he takes her into his arms. She relaxes, places her arms around his neck, and leans her head against his shoulder. An open door presents itself a few yards away, and they swiftly find an abandoned office area to hide in, safe from view. The Martian equivalent of a rat scurries away with the low bark of its kind, leaving then alone in the room.

There are four chairs and a table here that seem sturdy enough; all are covered in a thick film of dust.

"Oh!" Louis exclaims as he takes her into his arms. She relaxes, places her arms around his neck, and leans her head against his shoulder. An open door presents itself a few yards away, and they swiftly find an abandoned office area to hide in, safe from view. The Martian equivalent of a rat scurries away with the low bark of its kind, leaving then alone in the room.

There are four chairs and a table here that seem sturdy enough; all are covered in a thick film of dust.

Robert slips into the building and closes the door behind them.  "Let's get you checked out now Louis." If the door has an easily set lock or latch he'll throw it to discourage immediate investigation behind them.  He moves so that they are out of sight of any windows and then wipes off the a chair seat a bit.

"Ok, up here for now darling."  He sets her down on the table and then kneels next to her. "Let's get your jacket off first and then see what is underneath your shirt."

"You know full well what is under there, cad," Louis chuckles, and then takes a sharp breath and leans to her left. "Oh, that hurts!"

Robert works her jacket off, and immediately sees a jagged tear in her shirt, and a fair amount of blood. A moment's work, and Louis is clad only in her camisole above the waist. A bloody gash runs along her left side just below her breast, about four inches long, and a quarter inch wide. Robert can't see how deep it is, since the wound is still welling dark red blood, which has run halfway to her waist under the loose shirt. He can see the gash is just above one of her ribs.

"How bad is it?" Louis asks.

Robert laughs as well as though his voice is strained with concern.  He works as gently as he can to remove her clothing and expose the area of the wound.  Robert pulled out his shirt and ripped off the tails.  Using the fabric to wipe down the blood but avoiding the area of the wounds he evaluated the gash.  "It looks like you were grazed by a bullet Louis.  I don't see that it penetrated your body.  It is ugly and there is a lot of blood.  We'll need to clean and bind it to stop the bleeding and protect against infection."

Louis tugs at her pack. "I took the precaution of bringing a few medical supplies." She works at the buttons on a side pouch.

Robert quickly sees that, while the bullet has torn the skin, her chest wall is intact. From his experience, the wound has to be sutured, or infection will likely set in.

Robert ripped off more of his shirt to prepare for quick application of first aid.  He gently pushed Louis' hands away and dug into her pockets for the medical supplies.  "It's a skin tear but not a deep penetration.  I'll have to sew it up and sprinkle sulfa powder on it if you have some."

Robert finds two hand-sized bundles, each about four inches thick inside the pocket. "Those are aid packages," Louis explains. "I felt it prudent to purchase a few of them, just in case." When untied and laid out, the pack holds a roll of cloth, several oddly shaped pins, a length of what looks like a sock, and a paper wrapped packet.

"The rolled bandage will actually stretch. It's made from a native plant, and it's quite remarkable. The packet contains a mixture of Martian and Earth materials that will keep a wound from becoming infected. The idea is to place the mixture inside the sleeve, and use it to bind the wound." Louis winces and moves slightly. "It also has a pain killer with it. Don't use too much of it."

Robert lays out the aid materials after wiping a place clean on the table.  "You were wise as usual to bring this along darling."  He opens the package and sprinkles some of the material into the sock.  He uses water from his flask to clean the wound, packs it with the sock and then binds it with the cloth.  Robert fumbles with the pins to tightly secure the wrappings.  "There, that out to hold until we can get you to a doctor or healer that won't rat us out to the police.  There might be native healers that we can use."

A few minutes later, Robert and Louis have the dressing bound securely into place. Louis takes a breath. "I can feel that pain killer. I'd not want more than this, though." She pulls her blouse back on, and carefully stands up. "It still hurts, but I can manage. Maybe we can go back to the club after our business here is done. Surely, one of the doctors there can help us." Her color is better, and she sounds more normal, as well.

Robert leans over and kisses her cheek.  "You are as brave as you are beautiful and intelligent Louis.  You make me proud to be your husband and friend."  He helped her up and peered out the door cracked open just a bit.  "The pursuit seems to have died down or moved off.  I would expect this sort of thing is not to unusual here."

He turned back and nodded.  "I am sure there are a few of the members that would help out anonymously."

Louis reloads her pistols and puts them away while Robert checks the door. "I think we will be able to find someone, and yes, attacks like the one we experienced are a daily occurrence here."

As he looks beyond the door, Robert hears the sound of conversation in the direction of the street. It sounds like English, but he can't make out any words.

Robert reloads his pistols as well as the shotgun before they go.  He checks Louis' clothing and appearance to make sure there are no visible signs of blood that might alert any passing police.  "Make sure I'm clean of blood or anything that might stand out before we head out Louis."

Louis stands still for Robert's inspection, with him finding nothing on her outer garments.

She turns Robert around by tugging on his coat. "No, I don't see any blood, but I did find this." She pokes her finger through a pair of holes in his coat, above the waist at about the same height as Louis' wound. "He nearly got us both, it seems."

The clop of horses' hooves drifts in from the street. After a moment, the voices fade away, as does the sound of shod hooves on the pavement.

Robert eyed the bullet holes in his coat and shook his head.  "It could have been much worse, that is for certain.  At least your injury is not threatening once we get you to medical help."  When the noise outside died away he opened the door and looked about carefully.  "Let's get out of here then Louis."

The alley is empty save for the Martian thugs' bodies. They still lie where they fell.

"This way," Louis says as she moves off in their original direction of travel. "It's about a block down on the left." She is favoring her left side a little, and her gait is a bit slower than it was earlier.

Robert hardly spares a glance at the dead.  He's seen enough in his time and their sudden attack gained them no sympathy, especially as they had wounded his wife.  He glances down the ally and turns.  As he heads down the confined space Robert slows his pace and frowns as Louis seems moving less easily.  "Are you ok darling?  We should go directly to a doctor.  I will not risk your life for even this."

Louis shakes her head. "The dressing will hold for a while." She presses her hand lightly against her side. "The pain is taking some of the starch out of me, but we cannot afford to have me lie about in a stupor from too much medication." She turns her head to smile crookedly at him. "I promise to tell you if it becomes more than I can take. The door we want is right there," Louis says as she points to an utterly unremarkable door in one of several identical warehouses lining the alley.

Robert grips Louis' shoulder briefly in encouragement as his eyes meet hers. "I'm proud of you Louis."  He shoulders his gear as well as most of hers and leads the way.  When they reach the door he looks about and goes to examine in closely.  "Have you been inside or know what to expect Louis?"

Louis smiles. "Thank you, my dear." She helps Robert bundle some of her gear so he can attach it to his own pack. The load is significantly heavier, but not so much so to impede him.

The door is closed, and the only windows are fifteen feet above, standing open to provide ventilation, as is common here. Mars' temperature rarely exceeds eighty degrees, even in the summer.

"This door should not be locked," Louis says. "It leads to an unused part of the warehouse, and I doubt that Verinus knows that it's here. He uses a space at the front of the building for his operations; that's a tithe of the space available in the building. The rest is storage for items that appeared to have been there for years, judging from the dust."

Robert looks back at Louis and nodded.  He pulled out his pistol and readied it, then shifted it to his left hand.  "It sounds like an ideal approach Louis.  Again, remind me why I love you!"  With a quick glance around he turned the handle and went to open the door.

Louis chuckles quietly and busies herself with watching their backs as Robert tries the door. It opens easily under his hand, although the hinges are a bit squeaky. The interior is dimly lit by light from the high windows, and the room appears to be completely empty. The far wall is about twenty feet in from the door.

Robert holds still for a moment after he gets the door open and listens for a reaction.  After confirming things are quiet he heads quietly into the room being careful to step cautiously and avoid squeaking floorboards.

The floor, what he can see of it through the dust and rubbish, appears to be concrete. Louis points to a doorway ahead and to their right. A closer investigation reveals another, larger room beyond - and the sound of a human voice somewhere ahead in the dimly lit expanse.

Robert nods to Louis and heads quietly through the debris on the floor to the other door.  He peers inside the room and listens to see if he can make out the words from the voice or voices ahead.

Louis points in the direction of the sound and nods once. The sound echoes inside the room, and there is at least one wall between Robert and whomever is speaking. As he listens, he can determine that there are at least two people talking, but nothing beyond that.

Robert moves carefully across the room, confident that Louis would move up behind him.  He headed toward the wall and looked about for another door they might try.

The pair moves on flannel feet toward the voices. The room is dimly lit by the windows some fifteen feet overhead; the light would be much better had the windows not had years worth of dust and grime coating them. A few assorted packing crates and the odd piece of debris lay in their path, but there is nothing to impede their progress.

A wide doorway comes into view around a stub wall, and light spills from it into the room. The voices, three of them, are louder and more distinct.

Robert glances again at Louis and then moves up to the doorway.  He remains at the side of the door listening.

Louis nods once and points toward the opening. The partition wall here is about ten feet tall, with a fifteen-foot wide opening to another area beyond. This part of the warehouse, unlike the parts Robert has seen, is in use.

Sunlight spills in from a pair of open warehouse doors on the building's far wall, some forty feet from where Robert is standing. Beyond, he glimpses a canal and part of a canal boat, most certainly tied to a dock, although the dock is below his line of sight.

Stacks of crates stand on the floor, along with two heavy duty hand trucks and a large baggage cart. The voices are clearer now, but Robert can't quite make out what is being said.

Robert nods in return to to Louis.  He peers around the opening in the partition to determine if they could approach move closely using the crates as cover.

Louis steps up close and speaks near Robert's ear. "Last I was here, the office is on the other side of this wall, and behind us by about fifteen feet."

The nearest stack is ten feet away, and is about Robert's height.

Robert nods again.  He edges forward to see if he can take cover behind the crates and observe the office without being easily seen.

Robert peeks around the corner, and spots three people standing inside a very ordinary office with windows looking out into the warehouse. A Martian man and woman are standing beside a desk, conversing with a human woman. They are in side profile to the windows, and seem to be engrossed in a rather animated conversation.

The stack of crates is five steps away, and is enough for Robert to stand behind in cover. There is no one else in sight, and Robert hasn't heard anyone but the people in the office.

While Robert scans the rest of the warehouse from where he stands he tries to make out the conversation.

"... Mister Derry will be most unhappy with me if I refuse to carry his cargo," the Martian says in accented English.

The woman shakes her head. "And, sir, our mutual business partner will be unhappy if you and your friends do not do as you promised." Her accent is nearly the twin of Louis' soft drawl.

The Martian woman raises a hand. "Perhaps someone can explain things to Mister Derry."

The American laughs, the sound all the more chilling from such a sweet voice. "Oh, I wouldn't worry about Mister Derry. He won't mind a bit."

Robert listened with great interest.  That the human woman was an American was unusual but perhaps not shocking.  A citizen of that country could operate with less suspicion of involvement in the machinations of Germany and the English here on Mars.

He wondered however why this group was seeming to be turning against Derry.  Perhaps because of the recent events.

Syrtis Major (May 24, 1889, 11:30AM)

A noise from the direction of the dock draws Robert's attention. A pair of young Martian males comes into view. One of them is pushing a cargo handcart, and the other is pulling a large baggage wagon. They are conversing in their native language; Robert is only able to pick up the words "hungry" and "hurry" over the noise of the carts.
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:44, Mon 07 Dec 2015.

Syrtis Major (May 24, 1889, 11:30AM)

Robert freezes as the Martians come into the warehouse.  He shrinks back into better cover if he can manage.

The pair stops at a section of open floor and go about unloading their cargo. They stack the boxes neatly, all while talking away on the subject du jour.

To avoid the chance of getting caught by lingering too long, Robert edges his way back to Louis.

Louis backs away from the doorway, and speaks to Robert in a low tone calculated to not carry in the room. "What happened?"

Robert moves quickly and fortunately silently back to the abandoned room where Louis waited.  He moved around the corner and took a deep breath his voice pitched low.  "There were three people in the office; a Martian man and woman and a human woman.  From the discussion it sounded like the Martian man was going to refuse to carry something for Derry.  It seemed like the three of them had a mutual partner that wanted them to not cooperate with Derry.  The human woman sounded particularly calculating."  He looked at her; "The human woman spoke with an accent like yours.  Are there any Americans here on Mars that might be involved in something like this?"

"The Martians are Verinus and his family," Louis says, nibbling at her lip in thought. "The rifles I found were Winchester repeaters, so it certainly makes sense that an American would be involved. Why they would sell weapons to the Martians is another question. The third party is almost certainly the German, Hans Gelber, since Harriet was reporting to him." She pats her rifle. "I feel there will be more gunplay, and soon."

Robert nodded as he kept his attention focused on the noises from the warehouse.  "We certainly could take them by surprise.  There are two Martians out loading crates and the three in the office." He shook his head.  "The American connection puzzles me as well.  They are neutrals in the Great Game.  It could just be a mercenary thing for the money.  I'm thinking that there is more to it though."  He smiled grimly.  "I almost feel sorry for Derry caught between the Americans and the Germans."

OOC: Verinus?

Louis nods. "We could haul them before the magistrate. Of course, you would be arrested immediately. I'd rather not face the Germans alone." She shrugs. "I'd bet our lady friend is in it for the money. She certainly has not stopped to think of the repercussions. As for Derry, he deserves whatever he gets."
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:00, Mon 28 Dec 2015.

Robert thinks through the chain of events and nods.  "I'd rather not leave you alone while I rot in jail either."  He smiles rather cruelly.  "Derry can rot in jail or better yet hang as a traitor for all I care.  The American might end up doing a bit of jail time before your embassy can get her out.  There is no real appetite in the government here to hold women in prison but this kind of crime will stir up resentment."

he shook his head.  "It seems we might have a falling out of thieves but I doubt if that will be enough to put a stop to all this.  We need to catch them all with the evidence in place.  And even then there is still the issue of the dead German.  If we can roll everything up at once you should be safe while I clear my name."

Louis steps further from the doorway and behind a stack of crates a few feet away. "What I don't understand is why all of this is happening. While Derry was indeed smuggling, Penny and I found evidence of only threescore or so rifles taken in four months. While one is too many, that number of weapons hardly tips the balance. Now, I did see several crates of Winchester rifles being loaded four days ago, totaling as many as a hundred."

Robert shakes his head as he listens.  "It would be in the interests of the Germans to destabilize our colony by arming the Martian rebels and tribes.  They must be getting ready to perhaps provide heavier weapons." 

Louis' eyes widen as she realizes the implications. "We have to alert the authorities. But, we have no evidence to present." She looks at Robert. "What do we do now?"

Robert considered Louis' question.  "We'll need documents of some sort.  Even if we bring back a few weapons they won't believe us."

"I don't know that they would risk writing anything down, but we can look."

Robert considered and frowned.  "An outright attack then may net us nothing.  If we were able to seize some of the crates that might work.  Better to catch them in the act of loading weapons into the ships."

Louis nods. "We can either follow Verinus or the woman, then."

Robert considered.  "I say we follow the woman."

Louis nods in agreement. "We will have to be careful, there aren't crowds of people on the sidewalks here." She shrugs. "Perhaps our lady friend isn't particularly careful, though."

Robert shrugs.  "We'll have to take the chance.  If she recognizes she is being followed she won't know why.  Here in this quarter she'll just think we are common thugs at least.  We could break off the pursuit and not give ourselves away."  He grinned ferociously; "Or we could just take her and sweat a confession out of her." Robert shook his head; "I'd not do violence to a woman but given the choice of betraying her comrades and possibly hanging here on Mars for her treachery she might give us what we want.  If not we leave her on ice somewhere and her comrades might think she met a foul end in this slum."

Louis' smile turns feral. "I have no qualms whatever about the sanctity of her person."

"Don't be late, Verinus," the woman's voice comes from the other room. You hear a door close from the direction of Verinus' office.

Robert shakes his head at the ferocity of women toward other women.  He is drawn out of his thoughts by the closing door.  Moving back the way they came he whispers to Louis.  "Let's get back out to the street and follow her."

Both Robert and Louis spot the woman as she passes by one of the building's front windows. She is heading in the direction of the earlier gunfight in the alley. "I know her," Louis says quietly. "That's Claude (she pronounces it "Claude-A") Remington. We investigated her a few months ago."

Robert glances at the woman and then looks away to avoid drawing attention.  "What did you find about her?  Do you think she might recognize you in return?  There aren't too many Americans in town."  He meanwhile headed in the general direction that Claude was taking.

Louis points the way to the back door they used to enter the warehouse. "She is involved in smuggling just about anything of value", she says as they exit into the alley. A quick check reveals no one in the alley, and Louis tightens her collar against the breeze.

Claude's booted heels click on the sidewalk as she passes the cross alley between the buildings.

Robert checked the alley before heading out after Claude.  "If she's working every angle we might be able to make a deal with her to escape with her skin in return for information on the weapons smuggling."

Louis nods. "Perhaps so. Shall we catch her at the end of the alley?" Louis points south toward where the gun battle took place. Claude is off to their right, or west, also walking south, on the east side of the street that parallels the alley, with two warehouses to go before they reach the east-west cross street.

Robert measured the distance to the end of the alley and the pace at which Claude was walking.  He grinned wolfishly and nodded.  "Let's get her." He picked up his pace, moving along the alley parallel to the street such as they would come out about the same time as Claude passed the opening.

Robert makes his way along the alley, with Louis ghosting along behind him. He is quiet, but she is capable of moving without a sound. A quick check reveals that she is there behind him, pistol in hand.

The pair reaches the end of the alley, and you hear the same footfalls approaching from your right. There is no one else in sight at the moment.

Robert reached into his pocket and readied his pistol, with a glance back at Louis he readied himself to snatch Claude as she appeared.

The footsteps maintain their pace, and Claude appears right on schedule. She's looking straight ahead, and her pace is steady.

With a nod to Louis to step in behind the woman, Robert strides forward blocking the sidewalk.  His pistol is out but concealed under a fold of his jacket such that only Claude could really see it. "Ok miss Remington, just step aside into the alley nice like and you'll not get hurt."  He knew that the woman would be armed and likely was highly resourceful.  Robert was on hair trigger with readiness.

Claude practically plows into Robert, and her eyes go wide as she sees his pistol. Louis reaches out from the shadow of the alley wall and drags her into the alley. "You be real quiet-like now, dearie," Louis' mountain bred accent bleeds through in her anger. "My husband is a gentleman. I, on the other hand, will kill you in a moment." Claude's eyes are huge, her face is ashen under her powder, and her feet skitter across the pavement, knocking a stray bottle against the wall with a clink.

Robert's eyes are hard and ruthless as he confronts the American woman.  He waves the pistol briefly and then slips it back into his coat pocket still aimed at her.  He glances around the street and then steps back with Louis as she pulls Claude into the alley.

He steps up to the American woman and frowns down at her.  "We know what you are doing down there with the Martians and Derry running guns.  You'll hang for it when the authorities find out which they will in a moment if you don't start talking about who you are working for and what you are planning."

Claude's lips tremble, and she glances back and forth between Robert and Louis. "I-I," she takes a shaky breath, "it's just a few - for his family. That's all..."

Robert frowns and shakes his head, refusing to allow himself to feel pity for the woman as he pictures humans dead through the guns she is providing.  "Cut the tears miss, you're no wilting flower."

Claude's eyes flash, and she straightens her spine. "You have me, then. Now what?" Her hand moves slightly, and Louis brings up her pistol.

"Please do that," she half whispers, cold as an arctic wind.

Claude lowers her hand, but her eyes bore into Robert's.

Robert notes the movement of the hand but takes no action, confident of his wife's reflexes and aim.  "Strange how women can be far worse foes than men can ever manage."  He met Claude's eyes without a hint of pity.  "You can answer my questions for a start or you might not leave this neighborhood in a recognizable condition.  Women and children will die because of what you have done."

Claude's lip begins to tremble, and she swipes her tongue across her upper lip. Louis cocks the Webley, and the weapon clicks ominously. Claude's eyes dart to her, and then back to Robert. "I'm dead either way." Her lip quirks into something like a sneer, but the expression melts into fear. "It's too late, anyway."

Robert glances briefly at Louis and meets her eyes.  He shakes his head.  "The only threat of dying is if you refuse to cooperate.  If you help we can put a stop to this, save lives and undo the damage you've done.  The Crown doesn't want to execute a woman if they don't have to and if you cooperate..."  he let that hang.  "As an American they'd likely just send you back to the USA.  If not..." he shrugged and glanced about the terrible neighborhood with a meaningful look.

Several gunshots ring out from the direction of the warehouse Robert and Louis had just left. Louis whirls, pistol in hand. Robert hears screams and yells, and then the neighborhood is silent once more.

Robert keeps a close eye on Claude.  "It seems that the thieves are already falling out.  Talk now or you'll be beyond talking."  He hates to threaten a woman but this one had committed acts that might lead to thousands of human deaths.

Claude's head jerks around, and she turns even paler. "Get me out of here. I'll talk, just get me out."

Louis nods. "I agree with her for once."

Robert meets the eyes of both women and nodded.  "Indeed, this place is unhealthy."  He stepped to one side of Claude and took her arm in his for all the world like a pair of lovers out for a walk.  "Come then." Robert used his strength and will to bring their prisoner along toward the edge of the zone.

Claude shrinks back from his touch, but she starts to walk with him when he tugs insistently. She bumps against his side, and Robert feels her soft hip and bosom pressing against his thigh and arm. She tries to tug against him, but Claude, unlike Louis, is no match for a man like Robert.

Louis holsters her pistol and steps out, walking on Claude's other side. "Go for that pistol, and I'll crack your skull," she says to Claude. "Robert, where are we going?"

Robert cannot help but notice the soft form of the woman next to him.  Although the woman is attractive he doesn't react to the pressure of soft breasts and hips.  Robert pulls her closer, gripping her with almost cruel strength even as he smiles down at the American.  "We're a man and his wife and her good friend out for a stroll.  We'll take her down by the naval docks where we can get a quiet room and Claude can spin a tale.  They are used to shall we say rowdy sailors in those rooms so a bit of noise won't attract much attention."

Louis thinks for a moment. "That's a half hour walk through the busiest part of town. Do we risk walking though there, or should we take the water taxi?"

Robert nodded at Louis' excellent suggestion.  "The water taxi will be best.  The Martian boat tenders will be unlikely to differentiate between one human and another."  With a sharp tug, Robert pulled Claude along in the direction of the waterfront.  "Come along darling, we have so much to share," he called to her sweetly.

The walk to the canal is uneventful, and they board the boat. The boat operator takes them out into the channel, and steers the boat toward the main canal junction.

"Where are you taking me?" Claude says. She sits up a little straighter, and her eyes trace around the immediate surroundings.

Robert retains a firm hold on Claude as they get into the boat and head off down the canal.  "We're taking you to a quiet place where we can have a talk without interruption."

Claude pulls against Robert, once when she pretends to overbalance while getting into the boat, and again as Robert looks away for a moment as a horn sounds from one of the other canal boats. Finally, she subsides against him with a resigned sigh.

The canal boat enters the main intersection, where the boatman steers left toward the Ship Street bridge. The Syrtis Cathedral's spires rise majestically to their right, in sharp contrast to the bulk of the Residency to their left.

The boat makes it's way under the bridge, and Robert sees the naval dock just beyond the water taxi landing to their right on the south side of the canal. A Royal Navy steamboat is nearly ready to depart, judging from the amount and color of her exhaust gasses, and a pair of Aphid-class aerial gunboats are approaching the landing field just east of the canal docks. "I cannot stop at the military place," the operator says. "It is forbidden for me."

Robert chuckles as Claude attempts to escape.  He winks at Louis and gives her a peck on the cheek.  "Now my darling why would you want to ruin a perfectly good outing on the boat.  It's a lovely, lovely day and I'm sure we have a lot to talk about."  He turns back to their surroundings, watching even as he keeps close tabs on their captive.

When they near the dock Robert shakes his head. "Go ahead and approach, I will take responsibility."  He glanced over at the two women.  "Louis, keep our friend here quiet and still while I hail the dock.  There will be friends there."  He pauses for a moment and looks at Claude carefully.  "These are the men that will fight and die because of the rifles you have provided.  You will want to behave and not draw attention to yourself or these men may send you to the bottom of the canal without a second thought."
This message was last edited by the player at 20:00, Sun 07 Feb 2016.

The operator nods once, his eyes grave. "I understand, sir." He changes course slightly and makes for the nearest open berth. Robert sees a sentry standing watch at the head of the dock, and as he watches, the sentry becomes aware of their approach. He steps out of his cubby and faces the boat as it approaches.

Louis moves closer to Claude as Robert releases his grip on her. Her eyes are huge, and she nods in silent assent to his instructions.

Seeing Louis move to take control of Claude and their captive seemingly properly subdued, Robert stands in the bows.  He manages the movement in the small craft quite easily having done so on Earth's oceans most of his life.  "Halloo the wharf, Commander Darrington Royal Navy and party."  He glances over and sees a grizzled chief petty officer berating a group of ratings as they worked the lines for the steam boat.  "Chief Jones!" he called.  Robert had served on several ships with the chief boatswain and while the man was sharp tongued and salty he was a master seaman and had become as much of a friend as could be given their ranks.

"Smartly on that line, Masters!" Jones takes a step back as he hears his name being called, but he keeps his eyes glued to his work party. "Away that hawser, quickly, lads! All right, secure the dock!" His work done for the moment, he turns and spies Robert. "Commander Darrington?" His cultured baritone, so much at odds with his grizzled appearance, carries easily across the water. He was a gifted singer, but he required several pints of encouragement to actually perform.

The boat draws to within twenty feet of the dock, and the sentry unlimbers his rifle. "Stand easy, Corporal," Jones orders, and the sentry comes to port arms, his eyes still watchful. Jones calls out, "Permission to dock, Sir," and places three fenders over the dock.

The boatsman brings the water taxi in with finicky precision, and the fenders squeak as the boat bumps lightly into the dock. Masters braces at attention, but he does not salute, since Robert is in mufti. "Welcome, Commander. What can I do for you today?"

"Aye Chief Jones, I'd not heard you were transferred to Mars."  Truthfully Robert had lost track of some of his old shipmates in the course of mustering out of the navy and was surprised to see friend.  Certainly he could have been sent here to organize the naval forces on Mars in the face of increasing native threats.

"Stand bye to receive lines fore and aft!" Robert calls out as permission is granted and the boat approaches the dock.  He hurls the painters over to the dock as the native boatsman brings her neatly alongside.  Robert nods back to Jones, again not saluting.

Stepping over to the stone of the wharf, Robert reaches out to shake hands with Jones.  Both men have calloused, strong grips and their greeting is hearty but naturally restrained.  "Well met Chief, it looks like you've got this lot shipshape."  He turns and motions back to the ship, holding out his hand to Claude first.  Robert pulls her up onto the dock, still wary of sudden moves and then helps Louis to mount up.

"This is Chief Boatswain Jones, an old shipmate of mine and a master sailor."  He motions first to Louis and then Claude. "This is my wife Louis and miss Claude Remington."

A pair of rating step up behind Jones and quickly secure the painter lines to the dock. Jones clasps his hand in a carefully metered grip and smiles. "Well met,and thank you, sir. I arrived here permanently a year ago. I've been working the space fleet for a few years now, and the wife likes the climate here better than back on Earth."

As the ladies come up, Jones greets each of them in turn. "Good day, Missus Darlington, and Miz Remington."

"Good day to you, Chief Jones," Louis says with a smile.

Claude manages a nod, but her eyes are wide with consternation.

Jones' smile fades a bit, but he quickly recovers and looks to Robert.

Behind them, the steamboat's whistle sounds shrilly, and the side paddle wheels begin to churn the brown water.

"Do you require me to wait?" the taxi operator calls.

Robert shakes his head at the boatman as Jones greets the two women.  He passes the man several coins, paying him well but not exorbitantly for the trip.  When Jones looks back at him Robert leans closer, counting on Louis to keep an eye on Claude.  "I need your help to stash miss Remington here.  She's part of a conspiracy to smuggle arms.  We need a quiet place to keep her if she cooperates and a secure place to keep her while she waits for the gallows if she doesn't."

Jones' eyes flick to Claude's face and then back to Robert. "Aye, Sir, I can do that for you." He steps over to Claude and bestows a chilly smile upon her. "The Commander has asked you to accompany me, Miss Remington. I trust you will come along quietly?"

Claude looks up at him, for he stands head and shoulders over her. "Yes, Mister Jones," she manages.

"Good." He offers her his arm, which she takes.

"She has a sidearm, so be careful," Louis says in a low voice.

"Does she, now?" Jones smile turns shark-like. "Well, I think she will be good enough to keep it hidden until we reach the maintenance shop, won't you, Miss?"

Claude nods jerkily. "Of course."

Jones glances at Robert. "One of the maintenance buildings had a structural issue, so they moved everything out of it last month as a precaution. It's sturdy enough for her, and no one's in there. If that's to your liking, Commander."

Robert bows slightly to Claude as he hands her arm off to CPO Jones.  "Thank you Chief, may I present miss Claude Remington late of the USA."  He smiles tightly at Louis and offers his arm to her as though they were conducting a tour or friendly discussion.  "The shed will work quite nicely Chief.  We have a few questions to ask miss Remington.  A nice private location might just serve for her to tell her tale."

"As you say, Sir." Jones leads the way through the busy dock area, moving away from the canal. Uniformed men are everywhere, moving material in all manner of conveyances, and walking or marching here and there. Jones salutes a dozen officers on the way, but no one questions Robert or Louis' presence.

A few minutes later, the group arrives at the maintenance building. An imposing facade of uncertain age and Martian architecture, it looms over the smaller and more modern human built structures nearer the canal. The building appears solid as they enter through a double swinging door.

The interior is clean, with a few wooden crates stacked neatly near the door. Their heels click on the concrete floor as Jones leads them fifty feet or so into the building. He stops at a nondescript wooden door.

"This should do," he says, gesturing for Robert to precede him. "After you, Commander."

Robert follows along behind Jones, guiding Louis and keeping a close eye on Claude.  He nods to one or two officers that he knows but an unspoken bond keeps them from speaking to each other.  When they enter the building he steps forward and opens the door such that Louis, Jones and Claude could enter without risking the prisoner breaking free.

He looks about as they enter and then steps up to the door.  "Thank you Chief," he nods again as he opens the door.

Robert looks into the room, and finds a windowless space about twenty feet on a side. Marks on the floor show where something with legs sat unmoved for a long time, and rectangular discolorations along the walls show where other pieces sat for an equal time. Scuff marks show wear patterns from walking, and there are even faint stains from either tea or coffee spills.

The furniture in the room now, a square wooden table and four straight backed chairs, is obviously not what was here before. There is a faint odor of cigar smoke lingering in the room, and Robert spies a poker chip laying under the chair furthest from the door.

Robert nods with satisfaction as they enter the small room.  That it's been used for poker games speaks well of its isolation.  He steps behind one of the chairs and motions to it.  "Miss Remington, please have a seat.  I think the time has come to see where your fate lies."

Jones releases her, and Louis immediately steps in front of the woman. "I'll take that pistol now, plus any other weapon you have." Jones takes a half step back to position himself behind Claude.

Claude nods, and carefully extracts a short barreled Colt revolver from under her blouse. She hands it to Louis, and then stoops down to pull a derringer from her left boot top.

"Thank you," Louis says. She takes the weapons and steps away.

Claude walks over the proffered chair and sits down without looking at Robert.

Robert pulled a chair around next to Claude.  The back of the chair was facing her and he sat down slowly.  "Now miss Remington, suppose you start from the beginning on how you got mixed up in this mess."

Louis pulls out another chair and starts to sit down. "Oh!" She cries out in pain and drops into the chair, her arm clenched to her left side at the site of her wound. She leans forward and to her left, gritting her teeth and guarding the area. "Ah!"

Claude and Jones both look at her in total surprise.

Robert rises suddenly, a look of concern on his face. "Watch her," he calls to Jones as he heads over to Louis.  "She was shot in a tangle with thugs in the slum."  He looked to Jones.  "Can you see her to a doctor while I deal with this one?"

Louis takes a breath and straightens. "I think the bandage slipped," she manages through gritted teeth. "It hurts like the devil."

Jones looks on as Robert moves to Louis' side, "Yes, Sir..."

Claude bolts out of her chair toward the open door. As she rushes past Jones, the chief reaches out for her, stepping quickly in her direction. She deftly avoids his grasping hand, but trips over his foot. She falls forward - and crashes headfirst into the edge of the open door with a meaty thump. Claude crumples to the floor, and her head bounces off the concrete.

Jones is over her in a moment, and he rolls her over. "She is still breathing, Commander. Shall I go get Doctor Marsten?"

Robert knows, or knew, the good doctor well. A talented surgeon, he also had a talent for the bottle, and for loose women. The latter got him a permanent post as far from Earth as could be found, and the former had nearly cost him his career. He really was very good at his profession, however.

Robert makes to grab the woman but fails, fortunately Jones managed to trip her up.  Seeing her laid out on the floor he kneels as well next to her.  After a moment he looks up to Louis and then back to Jones.  "Go get Marsten, he's competent as long as he's sober and maybe even better when he's two sheets to the wind."

He lays Claude out on her back and makes her more comfortable although he does hobble her ankles with his handkerchief.  It's more to slow her down than keep her captive.  When he finishes he goes up to Louis and takes her by the good arm.  "Let's sit you down darling.  Claude isn't going anywhere and you need to get off your feet."

Jones nods and disappears through the door.

Claude is out cold, and Robert sees a large bruise forming rapidly over her left eye. He rolls her limp body over, trying to ignore her soft curves as he does so. She is indeed breathing, but she is clearly unconscious.

After securing her, he looks to Louis' wound. Louis lifts her shirt, and Robert sees that the bandage has slipped, tearing the clots from about half the wound. It's oozing dark blood, and it's obviously rather painful. Louis sits stiffly, stoically bearing his ministrations. "I'm sorry for distracting you, my love. I moved, and the blasted thing felt like I'd been stuck with a knife." She turns her head as far as possible with her arm raised to look at him. "So, you have sent the Bosun to summon a drunken doctor?"

Seeing that Claude is out so completely Robert doesn't tie her. Instead he moves to his wife his efforts to ignore the softness of their prisoner mostly successful.  He frowns as he examines her wound and tries to make her as comfortable as possible.  "Don't worry about it Louis, we'll wake her back up and see what we can find out.  Hopefully the knock to the head will make her groggy and less likely to resist."

He stepped back a bit, unwilling to make major repairs to her bandages.  "Marsten is a good doctor even if a bit of a rake and a drunk.  Still, he's one of the best and knows me well enough to leave you well enough alone except professionally."

Louis giggles. "Oh! Ouch, it hurts to laugh!" She smiles at her husband. "I hardly think a doctor would grope his patient in front of her husband, my love." She looks down at Claude. "From the look of her forehead, I think she won't be waking up anytime soon. It's a wonder she didn't break her neck or crack her skull."

Robert smiles and kisses Louis on the forehead.  "I'm glad I can bring you joy."  He shook his head.  "You've not met Marsten...  he barely made it off Earth alive after a couple of indiscretions."

He frowned down at Claude.  "Damn woman...  we need her testimony both for the authorities and to act on our own."

Louis reaches over and pats her husband on the forearm with her good hand. "Dear, would you be so kind as to search her before Jones returns with the doctor? I would do it, but breathing is an effort right now."

Robert held Louis' hand for a moment, a look of deep concern on his face before he nodded.  "Yes, first things first."  He released her and then began to search Claude.  Robert took a deep breath and made a very thorough search having learned somewhat from his wife just how a woman could hide things.

His diligence pays off; Robert finds a small notebook, an envelope, and a small coin purse, the last item being secreted in Claude's bra.

Robert blushes as he searches Claude but continues.  He lays out the items on the table, first emptying the coin pouch and then handing the envelope to Louis as he sits next to her and starts flipping through it.  "Let's see what we can find out from her records."

The coin purse contains about 30 pounds in coin and bills, and a key. The notebook is an elaborately bound volume with a small pouch sewn into the spine, containing a high quality pencil.

The notebook is filled with pages of handwriting in a neat, fine script. There are lists of what appear to be transactions of some sort.

"Oh, my," Louis says as she looks up from the letter. "This is a love letter to Claude, and it's signed by a woman named Bessie Womack. I know of her, Robert. Remember, she helped me with my passport after the crash?" She holds up the envelope. "There is a local address here, too."

Robert slid the notebook over to Louis as he took the letter from her.  "The notebook is a list of transactions.  I'm guessing that they're the weapons and ammunition that she's been helping smuggle.  See if there is any pattern that jumps to mind.  We might be able to figure out who and where they are getting the weapons from and how they are getting them to Mars."  He frowned at the mention of the woman.  "A love note?"  He shook his head.  "That is outlandish but..."  Robert did not continue his thought.  "To each their own."

He thought for a minute. "We have a key and the information about Bessie.  She seemed so helpful just a few months ago.  I was busy with the navy here and getting a job with Intelligence.  What do you know about Bessie?"

Louis shakes her head. "Nothing save our transaction, and now.. well..." She waves her hand at the letter. "That sort of thing is not as rare as we may think." She flips through the book. "It will take some time to sort through this."

The sound of approaching footfalls warn them of pending arrivals. "They are right through here," Jones' voice comes from fairly close by.

Robert seems doubtful about the possibility of sapphic love.  His experience although broad did not encompass the finer and broader details of female sexuality.  He shrugged at Louis' comment and dismissed the topic save where it might benefit them.  At the approaching feet, Robert scoops up the coins and pouch and along with the letter dumps them into a pocket.  "Later," he whispers.

"Well, well," booms a voice from the doorway. "Commander Darlington, it's good to see you hale again." Marston sweeps into the room, which is quite the trick for a man of barely five feet seven in boots and eleven stone. He stoops to check on Claude. "She's out cold, but she is breathing regularly and seems to be in no immediate distress."

He then turns his attention to Louis. "Good afternoon, Madam, I am Doctor Arnold Marsten, Her Majesty's Medical Corps, at your service." His smile is practically dazzling, but his eyes are focused on her left side. "Shot, or stabbed?"

Louis returns his smile with as much panache as she can manage. "Shot, Doctor Marsten. The other fellow wasn't so lucky."

"Hm, no doubt. You are certainly a lady who can take care of herself. May I examine you, Missus?"

"Darlington. Louis Darlington."

Marsten glances at Robert. "Congratulations, indeed, Commander." He refocuses on Louis' wound. "Hum, uh-huh."

"OW!" Louis flinches, but doesn't pull back.

"Indeed. My apologies, but this must be sutured immediately. You've almost gone too long for it to heal properly. Whatever you're doing is most dangerous, then." He holds up a hand. "I will not enquire further into your activities, or how this other young lady came to be laid out on the floor." He looks back and forth between Louis and Robert. "The ladies both need medical attention, and Chief Jones has advised me that extreme discretion is required. I am willing to help you."

Robert looks up from the table and smiles as Marston sweeps into the room.  He straightens and holds out his hand in greeting.  Robert's grip is strong from years at sea with a large, calloused hand.  "It is a pleasure to see you again Doctor, always a pleasure." The two had served together in He steps aside to allow the doctor to attend to the two women. Robert can't help but hover nearby as Marston sees to Louis, his face growing relieved as she is examined.

"Thank you," he nods in acknowledgement, his eyes meeting Louis' with affection.  As the examination finishes he steps back closer and looks at the two women.  "I'll be frank Doctor, I'm in as deep a trouble as I've ever been.  There is a devil's nest here and my wife and I are fighting the very heart of it.  Your aid with Louis and attention to this woman who is as villainous as they come would be greatly appreciated."

Marston nods. "Of course, Commander." He glances around the room. "I take it this room was chosen for it's... privacy, so it will do as a dispensary." He turns to Jones. "Chief Jones, I will need a cot with bedclothes and a blanket for our guest," he indicates Claude's prostrate form with a wave of his hand.

"Right away, Doctor," Jones replies. He steps out, closing the door and walking quickly away.

"As for you, my dear," he addresses Louis as he sets his medical bog on the table, "I have what I will need with me to care for your injury." He extracts a small, flat package, a bundle of bandages, and another, slightly larger package. He unwraps the last package, revealing a hypodermic syringe and three vials of cloudy liquid. "I'm happy to say that this should be less painful that it would have been a few months ago." He lifts one of the vials out of its nest. "This is a newly developed local anesthetic from here on Mars that is much safer than cocaine."

Marston sits in one of the other chairs, and has Robert assist Louis in holding her shirt up, since, as the doctor explains, he wants no more contamination that may have been in the wound. He carefully removes the soiled bandage, injects Louis in three places around the wound, and waits a few minutes for the medication to take effect.

After he is satisfied the area is numbed, Marston cleans the wound and sutures it closed with finicky precision. Through it all, Louis sits calmly, watching him work. Finally, Marsten bandages the area tightly, and sits back with a sigh.

"I would normally advise my patients to rest quietly for a few days to allow a wound like that one to heal. In your case, try to not tear the stitches loose. Keep it bandaged, and bind it with a cloth of some sort over it, if you can manage it."

Louis examines the doctor's work, probing carefully with her fingers. "Thank you, doctor." She stands and tugs her clothing back into place, moving carefully to avoid straining her injury. "I thank you for your assistance, but I am afraid we must be on our way. As my husband says, we have landed in a what my relatives would call a heap of troubles." She looks at Robert. "Are we ready to leave?"

Robert watches the doctor's work with considerable anxiety.  He had a great deal of confidence in Marston's skill but the man was a drunkard and one never knew just how far he had fallen in the last year or so.  Still, he worked with swift, decisive strokes and Robert let out a sigh as Louis was finally bound and bandaged.  He reaches over and shakes the doctor's hand; "I... we are in your debt Doctor.  I owe you all that I have for Louis is all to me."  Marston muttered something inaudible and shook hands.  "Pshaw my good fellow, any honest gentleman would do no less for a lady as noble and brave as your wife."

The two men looked at each other slightly awkwardly and then shook hands.  Marston turned back to his instruments, busily cleaning and putting them away as Robert in turn looked to Louis.  He held his hand out to help her to her feet as he nodded.  "We'd best go and go soon.  We put everyone here at risk for their aid and this mystery will not solve itself."

Syrtis Major (May 24, 1889, 12:15PM)

Louis takes Robert's hand with a grim smile, and turns as the door opens again. Chief Jones reappears with a rating Robert doesn't recognize. They hustle a cot into the room and set it up with practiced ease.

The rating, a large man with a face like a prizefighter, and the build to match, straightens, points to Claude's form, and looks to the Chief. "She the prisoner, Chief?"

"She is, Hattson. See that she is in no distress, and that she doesn't escape."

Hattson nods once. "Aye, Chief." He looks to Marston. "Can she be moved, Doctor?" His baritone is surprisingly smooth and cultured coming from his battered features.

"Yes," Marston says over his shoulder as he works with his medical supplies.

Hattson scoops up Claude and gently deposits her on the bed. He tugs her dress down over her legs, and drapes a light blanket over her. He then lifts her head and places a small pillow under it. Satisfied, he steps back and seats himself at the table.

Jones nods in satisfaction. "Commander, we will keep her here until you say otherwise."

Robert turns as well as the door opens, he releases Louis' hand and steps to the side as Jones and the rating enter the room.  He watches carefully and then nods in approval as the burly Hattson handles Claude with care.  Robert turns back to Jones and smiles grimly.  "She's committed treason and worse but I'll not make war on women.  Thank you for keeping her safe and secure Chief, petty Officer Hattson," he nodded to the rating.  "This lady is a key informant but best to be kept out of sight while Mrs. Darlington and I root out this viper's nest.  If she wakes try to find out what she knows about the gun smuggling ring.  If we're lost or arrested it would be best to take her to Commodore Aubrey.  He's a man of intelligence and action."

"I will be on my way, then," Marston says with a nod. "If her condition changes, please send for me immediately. I will be back in two hours to check on her." He steps out the door and walks away.

"Yes, Sir." Jones replies to Robert. "You two be careful out there. If you need to get word to me, there is a waitress at the Fox and Hound who knows me well. Her name is Violet."

Robert steps aside to let the doctor depart even as he takes Louis' hand again.  Normally such public displays of affection might be frowned upon but he was not in uniform and among friends.  As well the sight of the comatose woman before him made him thankful that Louis' brush with violence had not been worse.

"Thank you Chief Jones, we will be the very ideal of caution." He smiled a bit and then nodded.  "I know the Fox and Hound.  We will use her for a message if needed.  Also if you hear aught from miss Remington pass on a message as well."

Robert turned to Louis.  "Where to next Louis?  I think we need to investigate her contacts in more detail to hunt down the evidence we need."

Louis nods. "I say we find her, um, friend."

The address is across town, fairly close to Louis' office. It will take about 15 minutes by taxi, or an hour on foot to reach it.

Robert nodded. "Best to take a cab.  Time is not on our side."  He turned to Jones.  "Can you summon a trustworthy cabbie who can keep his mouth shut Chief?"

"Certainly, Sir." Jones leads the way across the compound to one of the street entrances. There, he selects a cab sitting off to the side, and climbs up to have a brief conversation with the driver. The man nods as Jones speaks, glancing at Robert and Louis as he listens.

Jones returns and nods to them both. "I explained that his memory should be most selective if asked about your travels today."

The driver stares straight ahead as Robert and Louis board the cab. "Where to, Sir," he says without quite turning all the way round.

After a glance at Louis Robert gives the address they had for Claude.  He closes the curtains on the cab and leans back.  "I think we need to talk to this Bessie Womack.  She may know more of what motivated Claude."

"I'd imagine she knows a great deal about Claude." She smiles at Robert. "Women talk more than men, as a rule."

Robert leans forward and strokes her cheek to soften the impact of any sting his words might carry.  "I've learned that well in our months of marriage.  The world would be a far duller place without the fairer sex.  Let us hope that she chooses to cooperate to save her lover."

Louis closes her eyes for a moment as he touches her face. "I don't know how relationships are in such an arrangement," she says with a sigh.

A few minutes later, the cab comes to a stop, and the driver opens his port. "We're here, Sir. Actually, we are just around the corner. I thought you may not want to simply drive up to the door, but I can go around and stop in front if you wish."

Robert smiles and withdraws his hand only reluctantly, the affection plain in his touch and expression.  He shrugs at her response.  "I could not imagine either.  I expect like all other people they desire love and companionship."

As the carriage pulled to a stop, Robert looked through the curtain and then back up at the port.  "That's fine driver, thank you.  I appreciate your discretion."  He passed up a generous payment for the ride and then opened the door on the curb side.  Stepping out he looked about and then nodded to Louis.

They disembark, and find themselves in a rather nicer neighborhood than their own. The Martian buildings tower over them, with a few human constructed buildings interspersed between the ancient towers. Even these smaller buildings are a close match to their Martian neighbors, unlike the row houses in Robert's neighborhood. The corner is at the end of the block, where a grocery store sits, it's doors open as people bustle in and out.

The sidewalk isn't crowded, but there is plenty of foot traffic. A few holstered sidearms are in evidence, but no one in sight is carrying a long arm. There is a police substation at the opposite end of the block, but no officers are in sight at the moment.

"Shall I wait for ye?" The driver calls from his seat.

OOC: Do we have visible long arms?  We may want to stow them in the cab...

Robert looks about and nods. "Aye coachman, please wait if you would.  Our business hopefully will not be long."  He headed down the street, taking Louis' arm under his as if they were out for a casual stroll.  "This is a nice neighborhood.  I like the combination of buildings."

"Aye, Sir, I will wait." The driver directs his horse closer to the curb. The rifles fit neatly in the compartment made for that purpose on the side opposite the cab's door.

"Yes," Louis agrees as they walk along. She appears to be relaxed, but she is both alert and moving somewhat carefully, presumably to protect her stitches.

The pair walks up to the grocery store, and then around the corner. The building they are seeking is about halfway down the block, on their side of the street. It's of human construction, with a wide, gated portal leading to the lobby inside. The address is an apartment on the second floor.

Robert carefully helps Louis down from the cab, aware of her stitches and looks around himself.  He walks with her past the store, glancing inside with casual interest and then up to the apartment building.  He notes the address and looks for a mail box or listing of inhabitants to confirm as well as satisfy his own curiosity.  He tries the door to see if they can enter the building.

The gate swings open at his touch, and they are able to step inside. The area with the post boxes is off to one side, behind a door set with glass panes. The entry opens into a broad atrium with two sets of stairs leading up to the next level. A rather plain, but still elegant, brass light fixture dominates the center of the space, hanging from the ceiling four stories overhead.

There are three people in the atrium area, an older woman exiting a ground floor apartment, a woman topping the stairs on the third floor, and another woman starting up the far stairway from the first floor.

Robert glances around at the place.  Seeing that there are other people about in the courtyard he instead heads up to the nearer set of stairs up to the second level.

Robert and Louis top the stairs and find the landing area actually has no apartments that front directly onto it. Several hallways lead away from the atrium, and there are three small sitting areas arranged between them in the atrium proper.

Each hallway has a small sign denoting the apartment numbers in them. "That way," Louis discreetly points to a portal across the atrium.
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:09, Thu 31 Mar 2016.

Robert looks around, sighting on possible exits from the place as they cross the courtyard and climb the stairs.  He nods to her and taking her arm again in a gallant action Robert leads the way to the indicated portal.

The apartment they are seeking is about two thirds of the way to the end of the hallway, on the left. It's door shows the apartment number in brass numerals: "237".

Robert examines the door for anything out of the ordinary and then pulls back a bit.  "I suggest that you knock and introduce yourself Louis.  I'll stand back a bit out of the way to avoid disturbing her at first."

Louis steps up to the door, and stands off to the latch side. She waits until Robert is ready, and then she knocks on the door, firmly but not loudly. She waits for about 30 seconds, and knocks again. There is no answer after about a minute. "Key?" she asks quietly.

Robert waits tensely, trying to act casually as they wait for an answer.  When none comes he nods and steps forward, putting the key in the door and opening it.  He puts one hand in his pocket, the pistol ready as he slowly opens the door.

A faint odor of perfume reaches Robert's nose as the door opens into the apartment. A short hallway leads straight ahead, opening into a room about ten feet away. An open doorway lies to the right, and a closed door is to the left just beyond the entry door. The tile floor has a Martian made runner for most of it's length.

The apartment's decor is somewhat better than in Robert's building, but certainly not ostentatious.

"Nice," Louis says from behind him.

Robert takes a sniff to see if the perfume is recognizable from Claude.  After a moment listening he nods to Louis and steps inside.  Still holding the pistol ready in his pocket he steps inside, remaining on the runner to muffle his heavy tread.  Motioning for Louis to follow and close the door he moves further forward and looks around the corner through the open door.

Claude's brand of perfume is different than this one. The apartment is silent as Robert moves down the hall. The open doorway leads to a small kitchen, complete with one of those new gas stoves. This building also features electric lights, and a single covered fixture on the ceiling lights the room. There is no other exit from the kitchen area save the doorway.

Robert looks with interest for a moment at the stove and the electric light before he recalls their mission.  Shaking his head back at Louis he motions further down the hall.  He goes to the closed door on the left and tries the handle slowly.

The door is unlocked, and the handle turns with a soft metallic click as the latch disengages. Louis moves behind him and toward the open room.

Wincing a bit at the 'click' Robert steps a bit to the side out of the line of fire and swings the door open.

The door swings open with a light squeak, revealing a bedroom; four poster bed with a canopy, two wardrobes, a dresser, a large freestanding mirror, and a chair. A dress is laid out over the chair, and the bedclothes are rumpled, but the room is unoccupied.

"Robert," Louis says in a low voice from behind him.

Robert's eyes take in the room before him in a moment.  At Louis' call behind him he draws his weapon and turns to cover the hallway.

He turns to see Louis, revolver in hand pointing into the room at the end of the hallway. Robert can see the end of what appears to be a chair or a divan, and a woman's leg, bare to at least her knee, apparently sitting on it. As he watches, the leg doesn't move at all.

Robert frowns and motions forward with his head.  He treads cautiously down to the end of the hallway expecting the worst.

He looks into the room, and sees a woman about Claude's age half lying on a small divan. She is wearing only a nightdress that barely covers her thighs, and an empty bottle of wine lies on the floor near her hand. Her face is turned away from Robert toward the back of the divan, and he hears faint snoring from her direction.

The living room's curtains are drawn, lending a gloomy feel to the room. The furnishings are unremarkable, and there is another closed door beyond the divan. Curiously, it has a small secretary sitting in front of it.

Robert looks over the room and whispers.  "Keep an eye on her while I check out the rest."  Robert puts his pistol back in his pocked and walks carefully across the room to look at the secretary.

The roll top is open, revealing a group of cubbyholes with papers in about half of them. The desktop itself has only a small ledger book sitting closed on the right side, and a ornate Martian made cup holding several pencils and pens.

Louis keeps her pistol in hand, and steps close to the woman. Her nose wrinkles, and she looks at Robert. "She smells like a distillery," she says in a low voice.

Robert scoops up the ledger book and slips it into his coat pocket.  He turns back and frowns at Louis' comment and nods in agreement.  Walking carefully again to stand somewhat behind the woman he pulls out the little book and starting from the back glances through it.

The journal seems to be the couple's financial book, with entries for wages and household expenses.

"Oh!" Louis exclaims softly. She holsters her pistol and leans down close to the woman. "We have to wake her up, Robert! She isn't drunk!"

Robert slips the book back into his pocket and steps up to the women.  "Not drunk?  What do you mean Louis."  Even as he questions her he kneels down next to the woman and shakes her.

Robert immediately notes a piece of a round, white pill stuck to the corner of the woman's mouth, and a peculiar smell from around her face.

"I don't remember the name, but that is a poison the Martians use to hunt with," Louis says. "It's a paralytic, and it can cause a person to stop breathing. If you look, you can see that the liquor has been dumped on her, she didn't drink it."

Robert wipes away the remains of the pill with his handkerchief, careful to preserve the evidence.  "We need to get her to a doctor then immediately.  This has been done to her under some threat of violence, meant to look like suicide.  Claude would not do this but someone seeking to silence her and her companion."

Louis steps over to the wardrobe and opens it. "Here, we can cover her with this. She's not wearing a blessed thing under that night dress." Judging from how much cleavage Robert can see, that is probably a correct assessment. Louis produces a long ladies coat, more suited for an evening out on a much cooler day.

Robert takes the coat and drapes it around the woman.  "We need to get her out of here without too much notice.  Did you see a rear entrance to the place?  If we can get her down that back stair and out to the cab we can slip her back to the base and doctor Marstan."

"I didn't see one, but most buildings have them. Should I go check?"

Robert nodded.  "Go check and if there is one go ahead and have the cab come around.  I will get her somewhat more dressed and try to help her breath in the meantime.  Be wary, whoever did this may still be around.  We'll want to question those in the building later if it can be done discretely."

Louis nods and steps outside the apartment.

The woman smells powerfully of wine, and her night dress is soaked with it. Robert is able to lift her easily; she is petite, soft and curvy, quite unlike Louis' toned body. He finally gets the coat wrapped around her without exposing her form too much, and he is easily able to lift her into his arms. She is still breathing, raspy, deep breaths in an irregular rhythm. Her color is paler than normal, comparing her face to what Robert had seen of her chest and thighs.

The door opens a couple of minutes later. Louis steps in, and nods as she sees Robert is ready. "Come, there is a back stairway, just as you said."

Once Louis returns Robert nods.  "I want to check that last room." He heads over, pushes the secretary aside and with his pistol ready opens the door.

The room is a second bedroom. It has a musty smell, and the bed is just a bare mattress. A fine coating of undisturbed dust is visible on the floor and on the furniture.

Robert glances about, a bit puzzled but shrugs for there is no time for further investigation.  He makes a quick shuffle through the papers, talking as he does so.  "This was a set-up for certain.  I'll carry her down, cover me while I do so."

After his quick look, Robert goes and carefully lifts the prostrate woman and carries her toward the door.  "Is there a purse or wallet or any other ID Louis?"

Louis peeks in behind Robert, and chuckles softly. "Ah, yes." She smiles at Robert. "My dear, the two ladies would certainly have to have a two bedroom apartment. Otherwise, they would have to face some unwanted questions."

At Robert's request, Louis looks around the room. "No, I don't see anything."

Robert and Louis are able to make their way back to the cab without incident, although they do draw stares from a pair of older ladies as Robert loads the woman into the cab.

"My sister," Louis says to them. "She has been ill with a fever."

The women step away, and Louis giggles as she seats herself in the cab. "They are much less curious, now."

Robert's eyes light up as he understands the room situation.  "Ahhh... indeed... two bedrooms."

He carries the woman down, keep his face somewhat averted as they head downstairs.  After placing her in the cab he calls up to the driver.  "Back to the naval base if you would please.  We need to get this woman to a doctor there.  Quickly please."

The trip back goes rather more quickly, and , aside from a minor traffic altercation at a busy intersection, it is uneventful.

Robert and Louis bring the woman inside to their makeshift holding cell, and another cot and the doctor are fetched in short order.

Marston comes in, takes a quick look, and reaches into his bag for a vial of clear liquid and a syringe. He injects the unconscious woman, whose breathing has become quite labored. He then performs a brief physical examination, and discovers that she has been struck on the head. He judges that the injury isn't enough to be serious, given that it didn't break the skin. He produces yet another vial, opens it, and holds it under her nose.

The woman begins to stir, and then her eyes pop open. "What?" She tries to turn her head, and lies back with a groan of pain. "What the hell did you people do to me," she says in a pronounced Boston accent.

Marsten steps back. "Do be careful, young lady. You took quite a blow to your head. You will have the very devil of a headache for a while. Fortunately, the person who tried to poison you did a poor job, or you would be dead. If the commander and his wife had not brought you to me, you would have succumbed to it inside an hour."

The woman tries to sit up, and then gives it up with another groan. "Who are you people?"