The Ghost Rebellion Read Online Free PDF

London—though granted it was still crisp, reminiscent of the beginning of spring or autumn back home. While the climate was certainly a dramatic change to what she was accustomed to at this time of year, it was their current mission that gave Eliza D. Braun pause.
    Wellington was still on board, retrieving from the First Officer’s log the final co-ordinates on where Featherstone had gone down. It was a very small chance he’d survived, but a Ministry submersible would be sent to the area, just in case. With Featherstone lost to the watery depths, the only tenuous hope remaining was to track down where he was staying and whom he was meeting in India.
    Eliza was already eager to get back to their pursuit of Dr Henry Jekyll, but her stomach fluttered with uncertainty. This was not London, there were no sharp-eyed Ministry Seven to help out, and it had been many years since she’d been here. Gaining local insight was going to be the first call of business.
    From what she understood, the Indian Branch—the largest divisional office outside of Great Britain—had taken quite the pounding from the Department of Imperial Inconveniences. Those tossers in tweed had been responsible for the deaths of many good agents, including its director, Kamod Tandon. However, with the reinstatement of the Ministry of Peculiar Occurrences, the India office was getting back on its proverbial feet, and operations were slowly returning to normal.
    Sadly, the same could not be said for their ruling monarch. Freed of the effects of Jekyll’s serum, Victoria had reverted to a quiet, if slightly difficult, old lady. Doctor Sound had confided to her and Wellington, just before leaving on their hunt for Jekyll, that the side-effects of the serum had probably shortened Her Majesty’s life by a few years. “She would be fortunate to live into the next century,” he had told them.
    The domino effects when Victoria inevitably passed on Eliza could not predict, but as she looked around the dock, she suspected they would be wide reaching. Victoria was Empress of India, and even though she had never set foot on the continent, her death would surely bring changes.
    All those concerns aside though, Eliza would never forget the immense satisfaction of punching the ruling monarch of the British Empire square in the face. Quite fulfilling. A story for grandchildren.
    Turning around, Eliza looked towards the city of Bombay itself. She did not know India well, her work only bringing her here on two occasions, and she did not much like the idea of chasing Jekyll over unfamiliar ground. With climate and culture in mind, she had dressed in linen pants which were cut for the female form, along with a simple cotton top. Perhaps the blouse might show off a fraction too much of her breasts for London or even Indian society, but it kept her cool.
    With a glance to her pocket watch, she turned back to scan the wharf for Wellington. He had probably got into some technical discussion with the First Officer and Navigator and forgotten all about the time. Still, Eliza didn’t like him being out of sight. Despite his skills, he was still an archivist at heart, not a field agent. Besides, as soon as their contact arrived, she wanted to be away.
    The wharf in Bombay harbour bustled and pulsed with activity. The flotilla around them was disgorging all sorts of cargo: spices from other regions, beer for the military, building materials from Europe, and ice from Scandinavia. Meanwhile, Indian products were being loaded onto other ships, especially cotton, silk and tea. The African Sunset was moored alongside other pleasure craft, but theirs appeared to be the only one presently disembarking passengers. So much chaos provided all kinds of ways for the two agents to be blindsided.
    Eliza sighed softly and strode over to what could serve as the most advantageous tactical position: by the luggage, close to their boat, slightly set aside from the hubbub. This position offered the best