Chapter 34
What Remains
19th of Eighthmoon, SC 895 (6 Charles 9)
Kasshu-Kyland Border Region
The Kyland was a large, desolate region in the south that was sparsely populated and mostly lawless. It was once under the nominal administration of Barsouk, but after the Souki Empire collapsed and Kasshu won its independence, the Bey of Barsouk withdrew to more defensible borders. No one had really tried to lay claim to the region ever since.
Even at their most land-hungry, the major powers did not see much to justify the cost of trying to hold it. However, there was a narrow strip of land along the coast where the Peace Line ran that was informally annexed by South Malvina in order to provide security for the railroad lest raiders would come and take it apart for scrap.
Lieutenant Alan Duchard, the First Lieutenant of the Fearless and her Boarding and Prize Officer, looked out on the largest piece of the wreckage of the Junker Jorg. The trail of debris stretched for several kilometers, but for now they were focusing on the immediate area surrounding the main point of impact. A couple squads of Marine Fusiliers were securing the perimeter while a team of about forty men searched the wreckage. The Fearless' crew had no experience with salvage operations. They were only the nearest aircruiser that could reach the site once an agreement was reached with the Kasshians.
Speaking of the Kasshians, there was about two hundred of them on hand courtesy of the Nawab waiting to assist when bidden. Lieutenant Duchard wanted to make sure any classified equipment was either recovered or destroyed before letting them any closer to the site. However, it had nearly been a month, so if the Kasshians had meant to pick over the wreckage, they would have had ample opportunity to do so.
Except when overseas for ceremonial functions, the Kasshian military—such as it was—wore no uniforms and had no established rank structure. It was more of an assembly of tribal militias than anything. Lieutenant Duchard did not particularly trust them, but he trusted them more than the Kylander nomads and the South Malvinans who were the most likely culprit behind this tragedy.
The Kasshians were led by a man called Anwar Ali Khan, who was addressed as 'Subedar' by the men under his command. The way Lieutenant Duchard understood it, this was about the equivalent of an Army captain, so they were on more or less equal standing. Apparently the Subedar was a distant relative of the Nawab—a third cousin once or twice removed or something like that—, as leadership positions were generally in proportion to the closeness of kinship with the Nawab. Subedar Khan had the benefit of a tutor whose own tutor was taught by a Byrandian missionary in Houk, so he had a passable command of Franca.
"'Lo the works of Man,'" he said as he spread out his arms, quoting something Lieutenant Duchard did not recognize. "A terrible sight, truly. We knew of the coming of this ship, the Djunker Djordj, so we had people out here a few days after we stopped receiving their radio signals.
"We left it as it was. You must understand that it is an accursed thing to touch the bodies of the dead. I trust you will forgive us for what you must consider a discourtesy. We kept the jackals away, both the four-legged and the two-legged sort. I myself arrived here some ten days ago, I believe."
"Kasshu doesn't have any airships of her own, does she?" Lieutenant Duchard said.
"No, no," Subedar Khan replied with a chuckle. "We are not so blessed with riches as your Byrandia. Even a motorcar is a sight unseen outside Aliabad or Kartkasi. We still must use mule and ox to pull our cannons if there was a war. Happily, there has been no war in almost ninety years."
"There's a war now," Lieutenant Duchard replied. "And you're looking at the evidence right here."
"So you suspect—what do you call it?—foul play?"
"I don't need to suspect," Lieutenant Duchard said. "You can tell from the pattern of the wreckage. A Junker-class airship has a range of about eight thousand kilometers. The Junker Jorg could never make it to Kartkasi without refueling." He pointed northward. "She was moving toward the sea as if to rendezvous with one of our oilers when the first explosion happened. It seems that it took out the second and third starboard rotors." He then moved his hand back toward him, saying, "The helmsman then lost control as the winds pushed her back toward land. Here."
He then dashed his hand against the other to simulate the impact.
"She hit and slid some forty meters. There wasn't an explosion on impact, only after she came to a stop."
"Is that unusual?" Subedar Khan asked.
"An airship isn't like an airplane. They're built sturdier and the fuel tanks shouldn't go up on a belly landing."
"If there was an explosion, there was fire, was there not? Would that not—what is the word?—cook off the munitions?"
"The Junker Jorg was on a diplomatic mission. She was only carrying the bare minimum for self-defense. Not enough to do this. She had to be packed to the gills with explosives. Our guess is that they meant to detonate over water to leave as little evidence as possible, but there was a misfire, hence the first explosion. They crash-landed, couldn't get her up in the air again, so they finished the detonation."
"'They'?" the Subedar asked curiously. "Not the crew of the ship, surely."
"There had to be saboteurs aboard," Lieutenant Duchard said. "They—the people responsible—couldn't risk a remote detonation. There had to be people on the Junker Jorg to ensure everything went according to plan."
"You can tell all this by looking at bits of metal from the air?" an astonished Subedar asked.
"A lot of it's conjecture," Lieutenant Duchard admitted.
"Can it be proven?"
"We'll be doing a chemical analysis of the wreckage. We expect to find traces of PE-3."
"PE... Three?"
"A plastic explosive developed in Verness and used by the League of Seven."
"So you suspect the League of Seven?"
"No, we suspect the people behind this want us to suspect the League of Seven."
Subedar Khan held his forehead.
"This is all very confusing."
"Cloak and dagger shi—er, stuff—usually is. However, all PE-3 produced in Verness has a tagging agent that's almost impossible to replicate. We don't think anyone could get this much PE-3 on the black market, so they had to make it themselves. The basic formula isn't that difficult, but the tagging agent is. They probably tried mixing real PE-3 with the stuff they made to throw anyone off the trail, but with so much of the wreckage here on land, they're not going to get away with it. Or at least that's what we hope."
"Truly fascinating," Subedar Khan said. "The firangi are like spiders with their webs. In Kasshu, when we kill, it is quick and straight—" His hand shot out and snapped back for effect. "—like the naag, ah, the viper."
"If everyone thought that way, the forensic scientists would all be out of work," Lieutenant Duchard replied.
"Men must have their work, I suppose. And what will you do if your suspicions are confirmed?"
"That's up to the brass in Saintcharles, but if I was going to venture a guess, I'd say we just opened up a new front in this war."
"And are you expecting my people to join in this war?" the Subedar asked.
"I'm not expecting anything," Lieutenant Duchard said, "but speaking for myself, I'd appreciate it if you all didn't join the other side."
The Subedar laughed.
"We in Kasshu join no sides so that all sides are happy."
Lieutenant Duchard looked up to the sky and muttered to himself, "Not all sides..."
There was no point troubling the Subedar with the grim reality that the Kasshians well-worn game of playing one side against the other was coming to an end. If the Nawab and his advisors did not realize this, they were going to find out soon enough. Right now there was only one side you needed to make happy and that was the Empire. How had it come to this?