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Under Hypnosis

The sound of giants ripping metal plate in half with bare hands awoke Erehwon. She shook her head. She had fallen asleep at her workbench. Green light filled the workshop. She blinked. Sunlight wasn’t green.

Rushing to the window overlooking the street, she saw the power lines arcing and sparking. Above her, the sky was glowing a sick green white.

The noise was the generator house, the dynamos were overloading, and would soon explode, killing everyone.

The streets were filled with people, pushing and crowding their way to the docks behind her workshop.


“And then what happened?” Asked Doctor Sinclaire. 

Erehwon lay on the sofa across from Maddox Sinclaire who had put her under hypnosis to remember what happened the night Cala Mondrago fell.

“I pushed my way through the mob to the generator house.”


Erehwon grabbed the doors and entered the hall.

The six Portsmouth Promethian Dynamos produced more power than the desert island needed, most days, only one of the dynamos would be spun up. Tonight all them were producing power, and without a place for the power to go, the converters were dumping the excess load as aetheric energy. The Dynamos, huge cylinders flanking the sides of the generator house, glowed. Between the generators, hovering in the middle of the hall, shot through with arcs of excess power, hovered the body of night watchman, pieced like Saint Sebastian. 

No human would survive, unprotected, in the hall. Unless they were Bianca or Erehwon. 

If she could divert power to the pumps and locks of the canal running through Mondrago, she might be able to dump excess load there, or at least give people more time to escape.

The control boards were at the other end of the hall, she ran towards them and found them wrecked. An axe had been left wedged int the status light panel.

A figure stepped out of the manager’s office. They were wearing a faraday cage suit, the arcs from the dynamos landing harmlessly on him.

The figure laughed, “I should have known the daughter of Yokihiro Yoshikawa would come here.” He spoke Arabic, but the accent was unfamiliar. They were not from anywhere between Morocco and Damascus.

In his hand, he had a revolver. He fired it, six times, each bullet striking Erehwon in the gut.

She fell to the ground, bleeding. Closing her eyes and gasping, she transformed herself into aetheric mist.

The man walked past her, dropping the empty gun. “Yes, do your silly djinni trick, you can’t stop this from exploding. I leave you in the care of that annoying tribal godling you blather on about.”

He then left, saying “there are many who will be happy to hear that I’ve also sorted the last of the Yoshikawa problem tonight as well.”

Erehwon was now another arc of energy, but one with intention and she streched herself as a nimbus of light around the generators, looking for ways to keep them holding together for just a few minutes longer. 

The coils spun at hundreds of revolutions a minute. With each revolution, she thought a prayer. “Blessed Lady, help me.” “Mary, Queen of Virgins, let everyone escape.” 

She held the generators as long as she could, but her aetheric grip slipped, and with what she thought would be her last moment of awareness asked Darishka to grant her rest.

Then all turned into white light as the dynamos dropped the power in a wave that vaporised the hall. 

But at the center of that anihalating light, there was a pool of blackness. Like a sunspot, a region cooler than the ball of expanding plasma. She pulled her form together and dove into it.


“And then you woke aboard the airship, with Bianca and the others?”


“All right, Erehwon. That’s all for tonight. When I count to three and snap my fingers, you will come back to full consciousness.”

{{ sorry, several edits tonight while I make sure that this fits in the existing continuity }}

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