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Authors: April White

Tags: #vampire, #world war ii, #paranormal, #french resistance, #time travel, #bletchley park

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BOOK: Waging War
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“Hey, speaking of Mongers at school, how
come Raven usually goes by Walters and Patrick is always Rothchild?
They’re full siblings, right?” I asked.

My mom answered. “Monger leadership comes
down the male line. As Raven’s father is a Walters, she uses his
last name most of the time, but when Patrick was born, Markham
Rothchild insisted he take his mother’s last name, probably because
he intends to stay alive long enough to pass the leadership
directly to his grandson.”

Mr. Shaw spoke as if he suddenly remembered.
“I do believe the Rothchild children have been withdrawn from St.
Brigid’s.”

Liz Edwards stared at her brother. “That’s
odd. I would think the Mongers would want to keep all of their
children in place at the school, if for no other reason than to
gather information.”

“You mean spies?” I asked. “But for what?
It’s not like St. Brigid’s is a hotbed of political activity.”

“For two reasons, Saira,” Archer said. I was
startled he would weigh in on the turn this conversation had taken.
“One, revolutions generally start with the young, educated people.
If there were going to be a revolution in Descendant politics, one
place to sow the seeds would be among the students of St. Brigid’s.
And two, the power players of the current Descendant Council are
all connected with the school. The Armans, your mum, Shaw, Ms.
Rothchild, and even Miss Simpson – all have strong voices in the
Council. Removing the young Rothchilds from St. Bridgid’s would
indicate either fear or confidence on the part of the Mongers, and
I, for one, would like to know why they did it.”

“There’s a third reason it’s an odd choice
to pull the Monger children,” my mom said.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“When the school was originally built, it
was fortified with certain defenses. If one were serious about
seizing power among Immortal Descendants, taking St. Brigid’s would
be a logical step.”

Liz looked worried. “It’s one thing to
imagine the Mongers using their ring to control individuals, but
quite another to think they would take the school.”

My mom nodded. “If I hadn’t been victim to
the Mongers’ power I would feel that way too.”

Archer added, “There are too many things
swirling around Seth Walters to ignore. Why does he want Saira to
bring Tom to him? What is his plan with Tom, and with the ring? And
then there are the mixed-blood Descendants. To take over forty
people who have been hiding from the Council anyway appears to me
as though someone is playing a very long game. Unfortunately,
whatever the game is, they’re also playing it quite close to the
chest.”

“Do you think Raven knows anything?” I
asked. “She and her uncle seem pretty tight, but she’s only
eighteen.”

“So are you,” said Connor, with a look on
his face that screamed
duh
.

“Good point.”

Archer’s eyebrow went up with an
I may
have a plan
expression. “Doesn’t she fence?”

I shrugged. “Yeah, I think so.”

“You’ve become quite accomplished with
blades. Perhaps we should find out where she trains?”

Connor piped up. “There’s a fencing gym in
Brentwood the Rothchilds go to. Patrick was bragging about how many
competitions Raven wins there.”

I shook my head. “She’d never willingly talk
to me.”

Ringo spoke up. “I can get ‘er to talk.”

All eyes turned to him, but it was me who
spoke. “You’re going to take up fencing to meet Raven Walters?
She’ll have a blade in her hand. It’s a little like learning to
swim to get cozy with sharks.” I didn’t like it, but I didn’t know
how to put the brakes on it either.

Archer spoke to Ringo. “I can work with you
on your skills tonight.”

I looked around the room. “Does anyone not
think it’s even a little dangerous for a guy from Victorian London
to be trying to meet the granddaughter of the Monger Head? Why are
you all okay with this?”

Mr. Shaw sighed. “Information is everything.
If there’s one thing I’ve learned from Mongers it’s that he who
holds the information holds the key to power. There’s too much we
don’t know, and if there’s any information Raven Rothchild does
have, Ringo is one of the few people in this world I’d expect to be
able to get it.”

Ringo rolled his eyes at me. He must have
picked up the habit from Connor, and I was going to have to break
him of it. “Ye think I can’t blend in with the bad element? Or
maybe ye don’t trust my learnin’ of this time?”

“Or how about I like you too much to send
you into the viper pit?” I snarled back.

He waggled his eyebrows at me. “Question is,
who’s the viper?”

The meeting broke up, and I hugged my mom
good night before Mr. Shaw escorted her out. I didn’t miss his
approving glance at my arm linked through Archer’s, and I hoped my
teacher and I were okay again.

Whatever it was that had prompted my mom to
ask about Logan had put everyone on edge, especially since Logan
was part daredevil, and therefore had a diminished
self-preservation instinct. Something I’d been accused of on more
than one occasion.

Archer, Ringo, and I met in the great hall.
Archer had gotten his fencing gear from the keep, where he stored
his not-insignificant collection of weapons. He was still weaker
than usual, so he demonstrated the proper fencing techniques, then
had us square off against each other. Ringo was quicker than I was,
but all the sword practice I’d gotten in over the summer showed,
and I surprised him a couple of times with moves meant more for a
longsword than a fencing foil.

Archer stopped us. “Fencing came out of the
gentlemen’s code of conduct from the eighteenth century as a way to
settle a score. It’s much more about the gamesmanship of scoring
against an opponent rather than drawing blood.”

I snorted. “Sorry, I must’ve lost my copy of
the gentleman’s handbook.”

Ringo smirked. “Left it with mine, I’d
guess.”

Archer scowled to cover his own smile.
“While I generally applaud your defensive instincts, you’ll need to
shift your mindset from warrior to sportsman to compete with modern
fencers. Fencing is not a martial art like the longsword is.”

He stepped in to show Ringo some of the
finer points of scoring against an opponent, and I took the chance
to study Archer as he moved. He was undeniably graceful, but it was
a prowling grace, underlined with pure strength. Even when he
pulled his punches, he was still stronger than any of the rest of
us. I made a mental note to ask Mr. Shaw about how the strength and
speed enhancements that seemed to come with his porphyria mutation
might be affected
if
he chose to go ahead with the cure. It
was a line of thinking that made me mentally cringe, and I dove
back into the physical business of fencing with Ringo.

When Ringo was pronounced reasonably
proficient, Archer and I followed him upstairs to the east wing
library he and Connor had turned into a game room for themselves. I
hadn’t spent a lot of time in the east wing since I broke out of
the guest bedroom Millicent had tried to lock me into, but I got
the same bone-deep comfort from the books in that library as I had
done when I first came to Elian Manor. I started poking around the
contemporary books while Ringo and Archer got down to the online
business of figuring out how to get Ringo into Raven’s fencing
gym.

Underground London
caught my eye
immediately, and I curled up on a sofa to flip through it. I had
just gotten to a chapter about the ghost stations of the London
Underground when Sanda knocked softly on the door before she
entered the room.

“Sir, there’s a telephone call for you. Mr.
Singh, from the Tower.” She said.

Archer looked up in surprise. As far as I
knew, Archer hadn’t spoken to Ravindra Singh, my former boss at the
Tower of London and his comrade in code-breaking during World War
II, since before we went to France. He went to the extension on the
desk and hit the speaker button.

“Professor Singh, how can I help you?”

Sanda backed out of the room and closed the
door quietly behind her. Ringo and I listened silently as his
clipped English voice echoed over the speaker. “Mr. Devereux, I’m
very sorry for the late hour. I have an odd situation with which
you may be able to assist me.”

“I’ll do what I can, of course.”

“Ah, excellent. I appreciate it very much. I
say, did your grandfather happen to leave any papers with you from
his time at Bletchley Park?”

Archer’s eyes locked on mine as he spoke.
“It’s possible, Professor. Could you perhaps be more specific?”

Ravi paused for a long moment before he
finally said, “I’d prefer to do so in person, if I may. Perhaps you
could come to my office?”

“I can be there in an hour. Would that suit
you?”

He sounded relieved. “Oh yes, that would
suit me very well, thank you.”

Archer looked concerned. “I’d like to bring
Saira with me if that’s acceptable.”

“Yes, of course. I trust both of your
discretion in this rather … sensitive case. Thank you, Mr.
Devereux. I’ll leave your names with the guards.”

“Perhaps you’d rather leave Bishop Cleary’s
name rather than our own?”

Ravi sounded pleased. “Ah yes, a capital
idea. Thank you, Mr. Devereux. Indeed, I’ll be expecting Mr. and
Ms. Cleary to arrive in about an hour. Until then.”

Archer hung up the phone and looked
thoughtful. “That was odd. Documents from Bletchley? We were never
allowed to leave the grounds with anything – no exceptions – and he
knows that as well as I do.”

“But do you have anything from your time
there?” I asked.

“Only memories.” I might have imagined
something wistful-sounding in Archer’s voice, and I decided I’d
very much like to know more about his time at England’s famous
World War II code-breaking compound.

Archer went off to put away the fencing
gear, and Ringo and I continued on to the kitchen to grab whatever
leftovers we could find from the formal dinner we’d skipped. The
cook had left a pot of beef stew in the Aga cooker, so it was still
warm. She didn’t like it when we avoided the dining room, and I was
perfectly capable of preparing food for us, so it was her
professional pride that finally drove her to leave us food. No one
else was going to cook in her kitchen if she could help it.

We talked about the mechanical and
electronic things Ringo had been tinkering with, and the things he
imagined he could make. He was fascinated by metals and loved the
symmetry of electricity. The stories depicted in the video games he
played with Connor were equally intriguing to him, and I could see
I needed to introduce him to more of my favorite fantasy authors.
He tended to spend all of his time with history books these
days.

“What do you know about Bletchley Park?” I
asked him as we ate.

Ringo shrugged. “What Archer’s told us,
mostly. They only started writin’ about it in the 1970s after
Bletchley was declassified. They were crackin’ German Enigma codes
by ‘and until that Oxford guy … Turing, I think it was, and ‘is
team built the bombe to do it for them. The code-breakin’ machine
did in hours what it took the men months to do.”

“Ravi and I worked on a machine called
Colossus, which had been designed by Tommy Flowers to do the same
thing, except on the Lorenz cipher rather than Enigma,” Archer said
as he entered the kitchen. He sat down beside me and inhaled
deeply. “Ah, beef stew with mushrooms, sage, and wine.”

“Want some?” I teased, expecting him to
shudder. Instead, he looked away from my bowl to Ringo, who was
just beginning to speak. It was an odd reaction and left me a
little unsettled.

“What’s the difference between Enigma and
Lorenz?” said Ringo.

“The Enigma machine was an electro-magnetic
encryption machine used by the Germans. It was based in the Morse
code, 26-character alphabet. It had five to eight rotors, with the
army and air force using five, and the navy using six, seven, or
eight.” Archer had put on his teaching voice, which always reminded
me of happy times in Ringo’s flat before Archer had been infected
by Wilder.

“More rotors equals better security?” I
asked.

Archer nodded. “But Enigma had a fundamental
flaw – a letter could never be encoded as itself, which is
ultimately how it was broken. The Lorenz machine was commissioned
for German high command and used the International Teleprinter
Code, in which each letter of the alphabet is represented by a
series of five electrical impulses. It also utilized twelve rotors
and was only finally broken when a German message of four thousand
characters was sent twice without changing the settings. We didn’t
capture an actual Lorenz machine until after the war, whereas the
Poles had captured Enigma before the war began.”

Ringo was captivated. “They built a decodin’
machine based on encodin’
theory
? That’s fantastic!”

Archer enjoyed his enthusiasm. “Yes. They
used the encryption theory of Lorenz to design the decryption
machine, called Tunney. But in order to decode any message, they
first had to determine the day’s settings, which was why my
machine, Colossus, was built. It could read paper tape at five
thousand characters a second, and the wheels that turned the paper
went thirty miles an hour. It was a practical electronic digital
processing machine. I understand they’ve rebuilt one from some old
plans and some old memories. It’s at the museum of computing at the
Bletchley Park complex. I haven’t been, of course, but it’s an hour
by train. You could go explore.”

Ringo grinned. “You know I will.”

Archer checked the slim gold watch I’d given
him. “We should go.”

I stood up and cleared our bowls. “London
Bridge, or closer?”

“He’s left names at the front gate, so we
should use it. London Bridge is close enough. It’ll be good to
run.” Archer said.

BOOK: Waging War
13.88Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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