Heart of Iron - Ekaterina Sedia [122]
“I missed you too,” I mumbled, the words a pale shadow of my protracted longing and the upsurge of happiness I experienced when I saw him again.
We traded further inarticulate expressions of our delight for a while, and Chiang Tse would not let go of my hands.
“I guess you’re not taking this separation of genders tenet too seriously then,” I said.
He laughed. “I think it is acceptable as long as you’re dressed as a man.”
I wasn’t sure but I thought I saw Eugenia’s shoulders shaking with laughter.
With Chiang Tse, it was easy to talk about Jack and what we should do about him. Chiang Tse remembered Jack as the one who—along with my own modest efforts—allowed for his and Lee Bo’s escape that night at the Crane Club. He was eager to return the favor.
I had favors to return as well. I felt overwhelming gratitude to Jack for all his help and self-sacrifice; yet, I felt burdened by my debt to him. I did not know if the same feeling motivated Chiang Tse, but for me helping Jack carried a two-fold purpose. I hoped that didn’t make me a bad person.
Chiang Tse mused. “They will have to change trains at St. Petersburg and Moscow. I think we can intercept them in either of those cities.”
“But what can we do to make them let Jack go? He is under English law, and I don’t think we have legal grounds to interfere.”
Chiang Tse pursed his lips. “Nothing the emperor could do?”
I shook my head. “I doubt he would intervene, especially now. We might have to rescue him ourselves—by force if necessary.”
“Or perhaps we could negotiate.”
Aunt Eugenia turned then. “With what are you planning to negotiate, Chiang Tse?”
“With whatever I can,” he said very earnestly. “The man saved my life, and he made sure that Sasha arrived in Beijing safely. There is nothing I wouldn’t do to see him to freedom and safety.”
I nodded that I agreed—and yet, every time I thought of Jack’s devotion, of the consideration and fondness he showed me, I became more and more concerned. It did not make sense, but I was starting to fear him—after all, he was superhumanly strong and agile, and he was not the man one would want to upset. I hoped that Chiang Tse’s diplomacy would be enough not only to save Jack, but to protect us from his displeasure if he ever were to be upset with us.
It was with no small amount of apprehension that I realized that some people made excellent allies but terrible enemies.
Travel by air was a lot less interesting than by train, once one got used to the idea of being up in the sky, as high as the birds flew. The windows revealed nothing but patches of sky and clouds. The usual rules of conduct felt irrelevant as well—at least, neither Aunt Eugenia nor Chiang Tse’s retinue offered any criticism of his propensity to hold my hand, and no one even batted an eye when we whispered and laughed like conspiratorial children. On solid ground, Chiang Tse was reserved and often cold; in the sky he seemed younger, as if relieved from the weight of his responsibility.
The engineer guiding the airship had agreed to follow the railroad tracks below. Every now and then we wandered over to the engine room where the furnaces—red-hot, hissing, and spitting—blazed like the pits of hell. The thick round panes of glass in the belly of the engine room allowed a distorted and bleak view of what was below, and we tried to guess the landmarks we were passing over. We named rivers as they shimmered below our feet, and we pointed the dark tracks of the railroad. At night, we pressed our cheeks against the windows and tried to see the stars above.
We saw the train below in the morning. We were mere hours away from Moscow, and I quickly counted on my fingers to make sure that the time worked out. I did it several times, until I had no doubt left the train below was the one likely to contain Jack and the Englishmen who captured him.
“I think Jack is on that train,” I told Chiang Tse.
He squinted through the thick, greenish glass on the floor of the engine room. “Very well,” he said. “We’ll intercept them in Moscow.”
“Can you