The next morning, Blair looked better. She managed to keep down the supper Nancy had prepared, a very bland beef soup with carrots and onions mixed in, but she would not touch the salad her former nanny made despite all Nancy’s encouragement.

She went to bed early, and Rip let her rest. The baby was now large enough to cause her frequent uncomfortable nights, and solid sleep became much more important, in his mind.

They walked down the sidewalk after breakfast, slowly. Blair looked annoyed that this additional little person growing inside her slowed them down, but she said nothing. Rip held an umbrella above them both, fending off a slight rain.

A hansom cab appeared out of the mist, the driver wearing raingear and looking miserable in the cold. Rip flagged him down and they got in, continuing toward Doctors’ Commons.

A block later, they heard the distinctive ting-ting of a bicycle bell. Rip watched through the window as one passed them, a rooster tail of water sluicing up behind the rider. The man wore an oilskin poncho, fanning out behind him like a superhero’s cape. Rip watched him weave in and out of traffic, quickly zipping between carriages and the occasional steam truck.

“If I ever find the maker of those infernal bicycle bells, I will personally wring his neck,” Blair grumbled.

“You’re back to normal, I see.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, dear.”

At the next intersection, Rip bought a copy of the Standard Trumpet from his favorite newsstand, and they continued the ride in silence.

He took this opportunity to review his stats, checking the readout from his implant.

[You are a Tier 3.09 Battle Rogue Technologist.]

[Nobility Achieved. Level: Knight]

[Skill: Detect Traps, 1.30]

[Skill: Unbreakable Will, 1.32]

[Skill: Transporter (Combo), 1.46]

[Skill: Vampiric Speed (Boon), 1.50]

[Skill: Night Vision (Boon), 1.60]

[Skill: Disarm Traps, 1.62]

[Skill: Mechanical Discernment, 1.74]

[Skill: Stealth, 1.76]

[Skill: Lock Picking, 1.79]

[Skill: Weaponry, 2.55]

[Skill: General Combat, 2.72]

He grimaced in mild disappointment.

Their exploits had made them rich. They had retrieved stolen gold from the Bank of Umbria, and stopped a plot down in the Calais steam vault that helped the British at Mons back on his world, at the very start of World War I. He and Blair had pumped their earnings back into Brooke & Co., and profits from products based on Rip’s ideas were steadily rolling in.

No one kept track, but Rip suspected he and Blair ranked among the wealthiest people in Umbria right now, if not the world.

But they had not gone on any additional missions for the Royal Venture Society in months. Consequently, most of Rip’s skills had stagnated. The only ones that had risen were those he could grind out daily. [Lock Picking], [Night Vision] and [Vampiric Speed} had climbed the highest, with four points for the first two and three for the last one. He exercised all three skills at every opportunity, even though he gained fewer and fewer points for the same effort over time due to diminishing returns.

He managed to boost [Detect Traps] by two thanks to his idea to have Blair and Nancy set harmless hazards around the house to surprise him. They thought it was hilarious the first time he opened a door that was slightly ajar, and a cup of water dropped on his head. Since then, he had detected and foiled several such efforts, delighting in seeing the skill go up. [Disarm Traps] only went up by one, though. He suspected it might have something to do with the harmless nature of the booby traps the women set.

[Mechanical Discernment] also went up by one point. Rip thought this might have something to do with a recent tour of their factories, but he was unable to repeat it. He knew most of the equipment he saw on the tour, and the skill seemed to flourish when seeing the unknown.

Finally, [Unbreakable Will] also went up by one, but he could not figure out why. The only thing that came to mind was his determination to grow the company, introducing new products and new ways to advertise. That likely contributed to the point, he decided.

All told, the measly 18 points he had gained these last several months were divided in half for his tier level of 3.09.

That’s still a long, long way to Tier Four, he thought before turning his attention to his paper and the news of the day.

Soon they arrived at Doctors’ Commons. They walked through the garden entrance between buildings to the Royal Venture Society headquarters, slowly making their way up the stairs. Blair glared at Rip when he put out a protective hand half way up. He withdrew it, but he remained ready to jump in and support her, if she faltered on the steps.

Clearly, being pregnant did not comport well with Blair, especially in the third trimester. He bit his tongue and let her go the rest of the way up without assistance.

At last they found the meeting room they had reserved. Opening it, they found the two infiltrators, Chance and Twig, along with the two vampire sisters, Hilda and Liza. Everyone sat around the table. The infiltrators stood politely when Blair walked in.

“Sorry we’re late,” Rip said with a smile as his wife headed straight for the nearest chair.

“We coulda met in a pub, you know,” Chance said with a wink. “It’s not too early for a pint while we wait.”

He looked around the room for agreement, but everyone simply stared at him.

“Or at least some crisps. Am I right?”

“No pubs,” Blair said, cutting short the notion. “Those places stink.”

Chance raised an eyebrow but wisely chose not to argue the point. A married man, he knew something about the heightened sense of smell even unenhanced women had while pregnant.

The Verez sisters looked like they heartily agreed with Blair, but they also chose not to speak.

“Alright,” Rip said, taking a seat at the head of the table. “Let’s get down to business. Mr. Twig, you called for this meeting. You have the floor.”

“Yeah. So, I wanted to let you all know, I’m stepping down from the Rangers and retiring from the RVS.”

Rip’s eyebrows shot up.

Chance said, “What? You can’t do that! We’re a team.”

Twig smiled and said, “Ah, go on. You don’t need me, Bobby. You’re just as good an infiltrator as I am. Well, almost. And with one less person, there’ll be bigger cuts of the pie for the lot of you.”

Liza frowned and reached a hand across the table.

“Won’t you reconsider, Mr. Twig? You are the only unmarried man left on our team.”

He smiled but waved her off. No one in the room took her flirting seriously. Twig leaned back in the chair, clasping both hands behind his head.

“I’ll be honest with you all. I never thought I’d see this much money. My share from retrieving that gold from the Luddites set me up with more than I’ve snagged in a dozen years of venturing combined. Then going down into the Calais vault? That was icing on the cake. I’m set. And I hear they’re literally giving away homesteader land in America, to anyone who goes and claims it. I think I’ll take my gold and go get a ranch over there. See if I can find a nice woman and settle down. I think I’ll do it now while I’m rich and still young. Too many trips down into the vaults can’t be good for your health. And I’m tired of sitting around, to be honest. I’m headed out to the New World, I am. The American colonies!”

A moment of silence ensued while everyone mulled over his statements.

Rip said, “Well, we wish you the best. You certainly deserve it, and nobody can blame you for wanting to get out while the getting is good.”

He reached across the table and shook Twig’s hand. Blair and the sisters likewise murmured their well wishes.

Twig looked at Chance, who so far had not said anything.

“Well, Bobby? Wish me luck?”

“Two months.”

“What?”

“You’ll last two months in the American Wild West. There’s nothing out there but skinny cows, sparse grass and millions of tumbleweeds. And lots of men with guns. Two months and you’ll get bored and start looking for a steam tunnel to explore. Only there aren’t any over there, so you’ll sell your place and grab the next ship back to Ethinium.”

They said a few more words. Rip asked about the sisters, who remained confined to Doctors’ Commons, as usual. But their needs seemed rather Spartan, and unlike Twig, they had no desire to travel west.

Finally, the meeting ended. On the way out, Rip shook Twig’s hand one last time. Then he and Blair headed downstairs to meet with Mr. Glackens and adjust the roster for their team.