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 Page B

Humidity was low, as though the atmosphere was somehow filtered and controlled. The corridors were wide and high, lighted by electric fixtures hidden behind panels in the ceiling. Pierce marveled at the smooth material of the walls and the thick sponginess of the floor, which absorbed the sounds of their footfalls.
    “Where are the people who built this place?” Pierce asked, wondering if the Germans had killed them or taken them prisoner.
    “Gone,” von Eisen said as he led the way. “Long ago, undoubtedly. A pity. I would like to have spoken with them, to learn about all their marvels. We have so much to learn from them. In particular, their source of power. Their fixtures still light and the air flows fresh from vents, but how is everything still running? But perhaps we have found the answer.”
    He turned off the corridor and went through a door that opened on its own. Pierce stopped short, but von Eisen motioned him and the others inside.
    The room was so huge that the Independence could have fit in it. The ceiling was several stories high. Benches with flashing lights and electrical devices stood in several rows. At the further end was a large metal sphere with small windows set into it. Large glass sheets were set in all the walls around the room, showing only whiteness.
    Billing's two men, Granger and Cooper, sat on stools to the right of the sphere, the latter in his shirtsleeves, a German holding a pistol on them from behind. On another stool another soldier sat, his uniform khaki, devoid of trappings, the material stained and torn. He looked up as the others entered, his dirty and bruised face brightening, eyes widening.
    “Harry!”
    Sam Pierce started to rise, but the German behind him shoved him back down.
    “Ah, yes,” von Eisen said. “The connection makes sense, now. And the names. It is all right. Allow the siblings a reunion. We are, after all, not uncivilized.” He nodded to his soldier standing guard over the prisoners, and then waved Sam to approach.
    Sam glanced over his shoulder to the guard, and then pushed himself to his feet. He walked unsteadily, as though in pain. Sam was the officer of the first expedition. The Germans would have interrogated him, and not kindly.
    Ignoring the armed Germans around him, Pierce went to meet his brother. He gripped his hand in greeting, and then helped support him to join the others.
    “Are you all right?” Pierce said, though he could see he wasn’t.
    “Never better, old man. So they recruited you, did they? Sorry to spoil your retirement, Harry. Never dreamed they’d come after you. I have caused a bit of a stink, haven’t I?”
    “Wouldn’t have missed it, Sam.”
    “How touching,” von Eisen said. “But allow me to show you gentlemen, and lady, something extraordinary.”
    He stepped to one of the benches, fiddled with dials and buttons, and one of the glass sheets began to glow. Then it turned blue with an image of the sky, and in the center was the cigar shape of the Independence . The image magnified, until the airship filled the glass.
    “Fascinating, isn't it?” the major said. “Like an electrical window. It is how we knew you were here.”
    “We have only scratched the surface,” Himmel said. He pulled a device shaped like a book from his pocket. On its front was a rectangle of glass-like material, similar to the large sheets on the walls. Tiny buttons covered the rest of its front, while the back had an elaborate set of brass gears and a crank lever that looked out of place with the rest of it.
    “My own modifications,” Himmel said, tapping the brass contraption. “Its battery does not keep a charge, so I attached a clockwork system for recharging, similar to what I use on my portal weapon.”
    He tapped buttons on the front and the glass lit with the scrawl of a foreign language.
    “I have been working on a translation of their language,” he said. His other hand dove into another pocket, pulling out a battered notebook.