Ministry Protocol: Thrilling Tales of the Ministry of Peculiar Occurrences by Pip Ballantine

Author:Pip Ballantine [Ballantine, Pip]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Steampunk
Publisher: Imagine That! Studios
Published: 2013-12-25T20:00:00+00:00

When Agent Lawrence P. Dagenhardt opened his eyes, he expected to see angels, not ragged samurai silhouetted against the sky, their coats painted with various stages of gore. The Shinsengumi officer nearest prodded him with his katana’s sheath, saying something like “Is it still alive?”

Law tried to explain that yes, against all odds, he was alive but unless they found him a stiff drink in the next hour or so, he might change his mind. Hacking coughs came out instead. Then she was there, leaning over him with her scraped cheek, her long, dark ponytail swinging over his brass shoulder.

“I am glad to see you in more or less one piece, Agent Dagenhardt,” she said.

He coughed, tilting his head left and right, scanning between hakama-clad legs for Brutus’s fetlocks. He attempted to sit up, but Tokiko pressed a hand to his chest, where the straps holding his arm in place intersected over his breastbone.

“Your horse is well. He is waiting on the other side of the river.” Her hand let up. “While you were busy destroying the bridge, I located our murderer.”

Law raised his eyebrows. “‘Ow’d you manage that?”

“Trade tools.” She smiled. “Susano’o’s mikoshi had a new lid, and the festival preparations are public. It was not difficult to discover which wood-carver replaced the mikoshi’s roof. Our culprit confessed: he went to the clockmaker’s shop to retrieve the bomb and discovered him sending a message to the Shinsengumi. He killed him with this.” She brandished a small, flat blade. Sure enough, there was an arched groove up the back of the tool. “A carving instrument.”

Law reached for the tool. Or, tried to. The mechanisms in his arm protested, grinding as he tried to move. He clenched his teeth, immediately feeling the shackles of his handicap tightening on him. No left arm meant less balance, less mobility, less agency. It would take him an hour to saddle Brutus.

Tokiko’s small, strong hand gripped him behind the neck and pulled him upright. Dizziness took effect, and it was a marker of personal control that Law didn’t heave up half the Kamo River on her Patrol Captain’s sandals. She gave him a sympathetic smile and he couldn’t help but feel a slight tremble in his stomach that had nothing to do with how much river-water he’d swallowed. He looked toward the bridge instead.

There was a great chunk blasted out, planks dangling in charred tendrils from the crater. Only a smouldering lattice of the hardest, blackest wood remained around the middle. He sighed, looking down at his bashed up brass shoulder. It wasn’t in much better condition.

“I am sorry about your arm, Agent Dagenhardt,” Tokiko said, following his gaze. “At least the Choushuu have provided parts for its repair.” She nodded at the clockwork oni. Her hand moved from his shoulder to his forearm and squeezed until he met her gaze. “I suppose we cannot let you run away to Nagasaki until it is repaired.”

Why she’d chosen those specific words he didn’t know, but Law glanced up at her, squinting without a gentleman’s bowler to shield him from the sunlight.

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