Cogs in Time Anthology (The Steamworks Series) by Catherine Stovall, Cecilia Clark, Amanda Gatton, Robert Craven, Samantha Ketteman, Emma Michaels, Faith Marlow, Nina Stevens, Andrea Staum, Zoe Adams, S.J. Davis, D. Dalton

improve on Tesla's primitive designs when I was twelve, and in the last five years, I've improved my father's designs. So, do you know of anyone else who knows more about the Tesla portals?”
    “No, can't say I do,” Pierce said. “Very well, then. Murunga, please stay close to Miss Fletcher.”
    Her eyes flashed in anger. “I don't need your servant to follow me around, Captain.”
    Murunga tightened his jaw, making the ritual scars more pronounced.
    Pierce stepped closer to Liz and kept his voice low and sharp. “Miss Fletcher, Murunga is a Maasai warrior, the son of a chieftain. And he is my friend. You can be as condescending to me all you like, but treat him with respect, and never call him a servant.”
    Murunga relaxed his features. “Captain Pierce is my captain, miss. Besides, he pays me well.”
    Liz Fletcher reddened. “I'm sorry, Murunga. I just thought because you're dressed up like an English gentleman and all...”
    Pierce motioned to Murunga's dark slacks, waistcoat, and jacket. “He chooses to dress like that. European culture is something of an obsession with him. Actually, I find it embarrassing. He spends all his wages on clothing.”
    Murunga looked down at Pierce. “You only complain because I dress better than you. Which is only proper, since I am a prince.”
    “Your father has six sons,” Pierce said. “You're the youngest.”
    “But still a prince.” There was a hint of a smile on the large man's face. “Besides, English clothes make for good hiding places.” He pulled a dagger with a carved bone hilt from his sleeve, and then concealed it again in one swift motion.
    Billings and his men descended the ladder and headed toward the gangway as Liz gave final instructions to Gridley and accompanied Pierce and Murunga in Billing's wake.
    Pierce stood in the shade of the airship, the solid ground feeling good after the rocking and vibrations of the craft. Smelling the rich odor of vegetation in the humid air, he could imagine being somewhere in the tropics of Earth, but he sensed a strangeness, a taste that was otherworldly. Add to that, an odd sensati on as he walked, a sluggishness as though he had suddenly gained weight.
    The landing crew of the Independence climbed the gangway, and the airship rose into the deep blue sky.
    “Well, Captain Pierce,” Billings said, “where do we start?”
    Pierce wanted to question the two men Billings had sent as scouts, to see what they had found. He headed toward the man who had signaled them to land, and then stopped.
    The soldier pulled off his white pith helmet and tossed it aside, revealing a head of blond hair plastered flat with perspiration. He drew his Webley and aimed it at Pierce. The face that grinned at them was one Pierce did not recognize.
    “What the blazes!” Billings exclaimed. “Who the bloody hell are you? Where's Cooper and Granger?”
    Other men appeared through the doorway behind the stranger, but their uniforms were gray. Pierce recognized them, as did Billings, who dropped his hand to his own revolver.
    “Please, Captain,” said a tall man dressed as a German major, “do not draw your weapon. And instruct your men to drop their rifles.”
    One of Billings' men raised his rifle to take aim. A German soldier, carrying a bulky, thick-barreled weapon attached by cables to a metal and wood box strapped to his back, aimed the contraption at the soldier. Blue sparks flashed across the copper coils wrapped around the barrel, and a blinding beam shot out, engulfing the Englishman. In a flash, the man was gone. Nothing was left of him, as though he never had existed. A second German pulled a lever down on the back of the box and began cranking it around, as though winding a clock.
    The major raised a hand. “Please, Captain, do not make me ask again. Weapons on the ground and hands up.”
    Billings slowly released his pistol and laid it on the ground, nodding to his men to do the same.
    “Who are you? What do you want?” he