By the time the little speedboat had reached the docks of New Austin, Zimmerman was almost ready to face the world again - despite the ferocious burns she had received.
It had helped that in that time, she had been able to grab onto Rudi and drag the young, scarred girl into the cramped, tight confines of the officer's bedroom and have her way with her whenever she had wanted. Zimmerman knew, in an abstract sense, that she was falling into bad habits. The same habits that had gotten her exiled from the sisterhood and sent to walk the wastelands of America. She knew it was a sin, before God and Christ and the Lady Trinity, to find female flesh so deliciously appealing. She wished every evening, kneeling before the small shrine in the back of the motorboat's cargo hold, that the Lady Trinity might excise this sin from her, as her radiation could excise a cancer.
Then she would fuck Rudi again.
So, it was with a mixed sense of relief and longing that she saw New Austin approaching - and heard Rudi mutter under her breath. "Finally."
The
Sparky
had taken them around the edge of Florida and into the Gulf proper. There, they had had three close run-ins with pirates running old style steamships, but no matter how fast a paddlwheel spun, it couldn't match a modern ship like the
Sparky
. They still had a few hairy moments when a steamship flying the jolly roger had gotten within long-gun range and shells had crashed into the water to either side of their ship.
Sparky
, being a spirit, responded to being shot at by sticking out her tongue and shouting rude words at the slower, simpler spirit of the distant steamship while Rudi swore every oath and curse that Zimmerman had heard in English before switching to heathen tongues and languages she was fairly sure were deader than French.
The other two run-ins hadn't involved any shooting, but they had stressed the speedboat's fuel reserves and required a several hour layover in the wilderness coast, trekking into marshy wetlands to cut down trees to feed into the boiler. By then, Zimmerman's burns were nearly completely healed, and Rudi was making grumbling comments about not being able to carry on like a 'dyke alley-cat' and so the extra physical exercise was enough to sooth some of her sin.
Some.
"I won't say I'm going to miss you," Rudi said as she slowed the
Sparky's
engine as they approached the docks. There was an open berth, but before they had even arrived, several Imperial customs officials were waiting. The Union Jack still flew over New Austin, much as it made Zimmerman grit her teeth. Rudi frowned, then shook her head. "Shit we don't even have anything to fucking smuggle..." She frowned. "Don't be too weird about them, Ven." She glanced at Zimmerman. "Those are ours."
Zimmerman blinked as the ropes on the
Sparky
were tossed to the docks by the two other members of the crew.
Sparky
herself sat on the prow, arching her back to demonstrate her slight curves and glittering silver and wood paneled body to all the dockworkers and fellow travelers. The other boats in the docks were mostly sailboats - none of them had spirits animate enough to be walking about, so she did draw more than her normal share of looks, admiring whistles, and a few calls from wags: "I'd love to service you, honey!"
"Only mechanics!" Rudi shouted, cupping her hands around her mouth - while one of the Imperial officials stepped up and planted his boot on one of the pylons of the dock, grinning down at them thanks to his exalted position - Zimmerman stood a bit taller and was smug that even with the docks, she still came up to his stomach.
"Well, well, well, looks like Chappel's sent her best little ship out," he said, casually - his accent American, despite the blue and gold uniform.
"Little!?"
Sparky
harrumphed, her arms crossing over her petite breasts.
"I did say best too," the 'official' said, chuckling.
"Come on, lets make this quick," his friend said.
"Aight, we need to make a show of searching your ship," the first 'official' said. "Then we pass off your cargo as being right and proper and you can enjoy this wonderful day in New Austin."
Zimmerman grunted.
"Not very talkative is he," the 'official said.
Zimmerman scowled. "He?" she asked.
"Oh holy shit you're a woman?" the first 'official asked.
The second sighed, then dropped down onto the speedboat. He headed to the cargo hold, stomping down. Rudi gulped and shifted from foot to foot, glancing at Zimmerman. "So, uh, Vee, these fellows work for Don Miguel," she murmured, quietly.
"Miguel isn't an American name," Zimmerman muttered.
"No, he's Cubano," Rudi whispered back. "They hate the Limeys as much as we do, don't get all 20
th
century on us."
Zimmerman frowned. It was an article of faith to her that no one could hate the English more than the Americans. But she supposed that the Cubanos and Mexicans had their own reasons to dislike the Empire and her eternal ruler - even if the Fire hadn't touched their lands quite so fiercely. She saw Rudi was chewing her knuckle now, worry twisting her scar up. "What's wrong with that?" she asked.
"Well, the guns weren't just to make Miss Chappel money - they were to get us into New Austin without a problem," Rudi said.
"...ah," Zimmerman said.
The first 'official' came stomping up. "Rudi," he said, his voice flat. "Where the fuck are the guns?"
"We had to dump some of them," Rudi said, holding up her hands. "Only some, though."
"Half! Half the fucking guns are
gone
!" The official thrust back with his palm towards the cargo hold, leaning in so close he almost touched his nose to Rudi's. Zimmerman grabbed onto the back of his shirt and yanked him back, frowning at him.
"Don't threaten Rudi," she said, her voice firm. She shifted her grip around, grabbing the front of his navy blue jacket with one bunched up palm.
"Or what?" the official sneered at her. "I'm an official customs inspector of the Empire. You're...you're...uh..."
His eyes, crossing together, peered down at the imprecisely muscled arm that had him in its grasp - and as her sleeve rolled down, he could see the gleaming brasswork implanted into her forearm, including the leaded shielding for her blessings. His eyes widened and he started to raise his hands. His comrade reached down towards a pistol hanging from his belt.
"W-Whoa, uh, we don't want any trouble here, Radwalker," the man said.
Zimmerman smiled the smile of a shark. Finally, someone recognized what she was. She was worried losing the vestments would ruin the intimidation factor - a lot of people in the Southern and Western wastelands knew to recognize the heavy leaded apron and plague doctor's mask of the Radwalkers. Fewer could recognize them from the implants alone. She pitched her voice low. "Do you know what Sainted Slotin saw, when the Lady revealed herself to him before his martyrdom?"
"N-No?" the lowly scum stammered.
"The flash of light when the Demon Core reached her blessed criticality...it was radiation striking the water in his eyes..." Zimmerman leaned forward. Her voice was quiet. "If you see that flash, scum...you are already
dead
. Now. Do you wish to see eternity?"
His head shook so fast that it nearly started to rotate.
"Then you will take the guns we have brought." She released him and he stumbled backwards, almost knocking into his friend. "And you will tell Don Miguel to be happy with what he gets. Understood?"
The 'official' nodded. He reached into his vest, pulled out some official looking documentations, signed it using a clipboard hung from his belt, then threw it at Rudi and ran so quickly that she nearly dropped the whole pile. His less cowardly comrade remained behind to glower at Zimmerman. "We'll remember you, Radwalker," he said, levelly.
"My name is Sister Vengeance Zimmerman," Zimmerman shot back. "Yours needs only be remembered by the Lord - for only he will care when I send your soul to him with my
bare hands
."
The less cowardly 'official' left hurriedly. But he did only walk - even if it was as quickly as he could.
Rudi stood stalk still beside Zimmerman. Under her breath, she muttered. "T-This doesn't mean I have to
like
you."
Concealed by Rudi's slender body and the rocking of the boat, Zimmerman's palm reached down and squeezed her ass. Rudi bit her lip so hard it nearly bled. Zimmerman's smirk was akin to a tiger's.
***
The city of New Austin had accreted over the years after the Fire - and it looked it. Refugees from Houston and Austin had fled towards the coastline, burned and burning, while radioactive fallout had drifted from from the skies. Many of them had died there, but enough had managed to survive to build and then rebuild the ruined towns that clustered along the beach. Bit by bit, as the East was recolonized by the British Empire, New Austin grew by trading with Vejas and other Free Cities. The ramshackle buildings had never quite been replaced. Instead, they had been expanded and added too. The outer edges of the city grew in straight lines and orderly patterns, while the innermost sprawl was made of tall buildings of cinderblock, metal and wood that looked nearly grown, interspersed with the newer buildings that grew up in the place of old ones that came crashing down - either on schedule, or in a random flurry of death and destruction.
This beating heart of American industry was not independent. Not anymore. As fisheries rebounded and piracy was turned into a double edged sword by the free-wheeling Majes of New Austin, it looked for a time that the city would be the nexus of a new power, something that could stand against the Empire that was taking Washington and Burned York and Georgia.
Then, several years before, British airships had arrived. They had not needed to fire a shot - their cigar shaped, grayish bodies had simply taken up position above the city proper and their demands had been sent down to the last Maje and she had quietly surrendered the city to them. Now the docks were full of English ships, and the airship pylons took their places up in the highlands of the city. Imperial ships and trade airships were moored there, casting shadows down in sharp, defined circles that stretched over the sprawl.
Zimmerman's lip curled as she looked it over from the side of the dock. Rudi stood beside her, her arms on her backpack straps.
