The Untold Tales of Dolly Williamson

by JM Bannon

  “Saint-Yves, I appreciate all you have done for the empire. You sure you shouldn’t take some time in the chamber first?” recommended Napoleon. Gerard was pleasantly surprised that the King remembered his name and offered to wait.

  He had a different plan for his treatment. He touched the ampule in his coat. “Thank you, Your Grace, but the rejuvenation of a guild master is a different process and takes preparation,” replied Gerard.

  Crocus shot Gerrard a sly smile of approval for his comment. I too can be a huckster, and the ringmaster approves.

  The self-coronated Emperor of France used the wooden steps near the conoptic tub to reach the edge of the huge stone vessel and lower himself into the ichor. “Can one of you discover a less foul and cold substance to be immersed in?” The King made a face of disgust as he limped into the viscous pool.

  “We are constantly researching improvements, Your Majesty,” replied Dr. Philas.

  The High Guild Master used the cantilevered arm to lower the massive lid of the tub into place. The other guild masters secured the seal of the tub. “All is in place” relayed Guild Master Hume, the Chamber Master. The entourage left the interior chamber once they were sure Napoleon was sequestered. Dr. Philas rolled out the Emperor’s clothes, and Hume removed the steps, leaving the chamber empty but for the diminutive man in the tub. All the masters exited through a secret passage that led to stairs to the mechanical level. At the end of the treatment, the guild masters would approach the chamber through the antechamber, leaving the bodyguards wondering how the seers exited.

  Hume signaled for the treatment to begin as the other guild masters left to fulfill other duties In the case of Gerrard, he had an interest in seeing how Hume had adapted the process to transfer the contents of Angelica’s orb.

  He followed Hume through the walkways that passed between the large pieces of equipment and had a seat by the main control station. He was easily tired in his current state.

  The mechanical level was a hive of activity, looking more like the boiler room of a steamship than a spiritual sanctum. Lower order necronists of the White Wyrding monitored the equipment, worked the valves, adjusted the gas levels, read gauges and scurried to double check the various subsystems that made up the rejuvenation process.

  “So, Hume, how did you deal with the material not coming in an ampule?” asked Gerard.

  “I must agree with the man in the tub. You should get treated immediately,” said Hume.

  “After him, you can treat me.”

  “How bad is it?” asked Hume.

  “Do you remember when Lafayette had poisoned us all with the soul worm and how bad you felt just before Huey returned and we were given the antidote?”

  “Oh yes, all my bones hurt, and I was filled with such a fear because I felt my spirit waste away…”

  “Well, it’s like that again, but worse because I’m older with less constitution. I never thought I would live this long to feel this bad again.” Gerard laughed at himself.

  “Why didn’t you have me go? I didn’t have the same emotional connection the two of you had. It had to be horrible to see,” said Gerard’s friend.

  “It was a complete, fucking failure, Arno, tragic. Just as I thought I was getting through to her, or at least felt we could keep talking, that nitwit Englishman comes through a wall like he is Merlin the Magnificent. Oh, the look on his face when she cast this illusion, and he realized he had lost concentration. I will never forget it. You should have seen her, Arno. She was ten times the Hougan Lafayette was. No entourage to augment her power, just her. Hell, she even summoned the old witch doctor to scourge my life force. I have spent my whole life with a hole in my heart because we were apart but always had the hope of seeing her again to offset it. Now that is gone.”

  Hume looked at Gerard for a few moments as if he was going to say something then he patted Gerard on his shoulder. “I can’t fix that broken heart of yours, but I will prepare a nice bath for you later, guaranteed to take five years off your life. Or in your case, twenty. Look here. This is our traditional transfer chamber.” He pointed at a metal chamber with a glass door. It looked sturdy and industrial.

  Gerard was familiar with the design.

  “Our ampules have metal contactors to allow a current to pass through the ampule and conduct the spiritual essence into the machine. The contacts slip into the four electrodes you see there. Of course, the orb does not have contacts, so we need to crack it open then conduct current through it without allowing the spirit to escape. Now look over here,” said Hume as he pointed at a heavy bronze sphere with a large glass portal. It looked like a deep sea diver’s helmet. “I crafted a special chamber with a holder for the orb. See how it holds the orb?”

  Gerard looked and observed through the portal inside the bronze sphere. The glass orb was held in a set of prongs suspending it in the center. Within the glass, the swirling smoke could be seen.

  “I throw this switch, and we now bypass the conductor through this chamber.” Hume patted the bronze sphere. “To get the spirit essence into et viventem perpetua, the machine of everlasting life, we need to approximate what is going on inside the ampule’s soul serum. To do this, I will now pump a gaseous coagulation agent. This gives the immaterial spirit something to cling to in the material world." He turned a faucet handle and pressed a button, and a pump reciprocated, pushing a pinkish fume into the chamber. “Gerard, go lie down. You look like you might keel over from the boredom of this technical session."

  “No, please continue. This is a once in a lifetime treatment. I want to see how you are doing it," replied Gerard. He was not bored, just tired.

  Hume pushed a button, causing green lights around the floor to signal the others to man their stations. “I begin now.” Hume smiled. “This reminds me of the early days when we first began experimenting,” said Hume.

  The hall filled with the thrum of dynamos and the calls of men as they read off the variables from gauges and levels. Pumps started to recirculate the ichor.

  “The electrodes will be pressed into the orb, causing it to crack and mixing the aether gas and spirit. After an initial reaction, the electrodes will have current applied and conduct the medium into the chamber.” Hume watched the pinkish mist of the aether gas through the thick glass portal. He hand-operated a micrometer that slowly pressed the electrode prongs against the orb surface. Then he peered in to see when cracks appeared in the glass. With a sudden pop, the orb shattered instantly, starting the reaction. Hume lunged to the initiation button as fast as he could. His palm slammed down on the button. Current coursed through the viewing chamber, and the spirit form coagulated then caught on the current running from bottom to top.

  “See how the essence caught on the current then was pulled up and out of the chamber?” Hume asked.

  “I didn’t. You blocked the view to the window. Hume, what do you think the punishment is for conducting untried experiments on the Emperor?” asked Gerard.

  “I am not sure, but I would beg for leniency on Crocus’ behalf,” said Hume as he isolated the gas to the chamber and waited for it to clear. The spirit energy was induced into the ichor recirculation loop that flowed through the tub and would be absorbed by the Emperor. The guild master signaled to shut down the current and the dynamo system. He opened his pocket watch and squinted to make out the numbers on the watch face in the dim gaslight. “Gerard, he will need to soak for an hour then figure an hour to prepare your treatment. Why don’t you have a rest in your office until then?”

  Saint-Yves couldn’t argue with the advice from his friend.

  * * *

  1:00 PM, Chilton House, City of London

  “What’s this, I hear? Strathmore is designated the trustee on the Moya trust?” barked Oscar Owens as he stormed into Lester Chilton’s office unannounced, without even a cursory knock at the door.

  Lester looked up from the documents he was reviewing, “Yes, Oscar. The wills of both Emilio and Hernando Moya were explicit that a
ll the bequests and their estates were to be entrusted to Mr. Strathmore and managed in the New York office.”

  “There must be something awry with the documents. Have you advised our solicitors to review them?” huffed Owens.

  “Why are you so upset about this?” asked Chilton.

  “The Moya family have been long-standing clients and managed by this office for decades. Lester, they were your father’s client, for God’s sake. Why are we losing them?” Owens fired on his younger partner.

  Lester stood up and leaned over his desk. “Owens, we’re not losing them. They are transferring to our office in America. It’s natural they be managed from that part of the world. Most of the holdings are over there.” Owens was surprised by the heat in the tone of Chilton’s voice. “Oscar, I want this whole affair with the Moyas behind us. If we were to take issue with the currently drawn documents, the trust could be put into question by half the people in Portugal looking to grab a share of the fortune. We would watch the estate dwindle and spend our days in court with every frivolous claim. Let it go quietly to New York.”

  “This is how it starts, Lester. They take our clients then one day London is reporting to America.”

  “And your name will still be on the door, collecting a partner share of the profits, including the fees charged to the Moya estate under Strathmore’s supervision.”

  “Lester, I am not done with this matter.” Owens had no argument. Chilton was correct. It was best to not stir the pot. “I have a client waiting, but I would like you to think about what I have said.” He closed the door on his way out of Lester’s office.

  * * *

  Outside in the seating area, a well-dressed oriental man lingered. “Mr. Lin, I am Oscar Owens, the managing partner. Please join me in our boardroom.”

  Jimmy Lin stood up, putting his gloves in his hat, and shook Owens’ hand. “A pleasure, Mr. Owens. You have an impressive office, I must say.”

  The two men settled down at the end of the boardroom table. “I went over the documents, and there are a few items I would like to clear up.”

  While Owens talked, Jimmy set his leather attaché on the table and unlatched the leather clasps, removing similar documents. Jimmy beamed.

  “Mr. Lin, Chilton, Owens and Strathmore is one of a select few merchant banks that a monarch calls upon in times of financial strain. We have been fortunate because of our reputation and the work we take on.”

  Jimmy stared at him.

  “What I mean to say is that in the city there are many fine financial institutions that handle trusts, and while we are pleased that you desire to work with us, I don’t believe we have the right trustee for your situation.”

  “Was there something wrong with the documents? I had them drawn up by Davis and Yorke.” Jimmy knew where this was going. He would have fun with the fat man along the way. “Oh no. They are fine solicitors. In fact, Elton Davis started here in our council office,” retorted Owens.

  “That is what he told me,” said Jimmy. “Then is it that I’m a chink?”

  “Mr. Lin, Chilton has been banking in Asia for decades, with one of the first and now largest offices in Hong Kong,” consoled Owens.

  “That is good because I do a lot of business over there, and you can help.” Jimmy pulled out a Mahogany box and set it in front of Owens and opened the lid. Nestled inside the velvet lining was a loaf of gold made up of ten 100-gram gold ingots slices. “I have a truck arriving in twenty minutes to deliver seventeen-hundred-sixty-seven 100-gram ingots to be stored in your vault and to fund these three trusts. So, you don’t have a problem because I'm Chinese, the paperwork has been completed by the best solicitor in London and the funding will be here any moment.” Jimmy continued, “That leaves only one issue I can think of. You may have heard a rumor, idle gossip of the ignorant, that my partners and I are involved in unscrupulous business. The word you may even be thinking of is gangster, and what if this were true? Now you might think I am a liability to your precious Chilton House, but no, on the contrary, I would be an asset. Once the streets of London know you are Master Lo’s banker, no one would be foolish enough to steal from your vaults again. You could leave the door wide open and not one criminal would think to touch a shilling.” He paused, ”That’s if the rumors were true.”

  Owen sat for several moments, looking at the gold. “Let me get a clerk in here to witness the documents and inform the doorman to expect the truck.” Owens stuck out his hand to shake Jimmy’s. “I want you to know how important your business is to Chilton House. Your bullion will be under my personal attention and stored in the partner vault. Only our top clients have this honor, and only partners have the combination. Be sure to let your associates know that is how much we value your business.”

  Jimmy shook his hand “You have lived up to your reputation, Mr. Owens. There is the matter of this one trust.” Jimmy slid the documents across the table.

  “Yes, the White Angel trust. I found that one interesting, and might I suggest that I personally take the role of trustee?”

  “I couldn’t think of a better person, Mr. Owens. As to the first matter of business, once the bullion is in your possession, I want you to liquidate enough of the gold to pounds’ sterling then fund your investment strategy, leaving some cash liquid for the purchase of an appropriate residence.”

  “Consider it done,” Owens replied.

  “Excellent, and one final instruction. The beneficiary is never to learn that I am the source of these funds. If she does, and I hear it came from your lips then...well, I’m sure you understand that would be unpalatable for me.” Jimmy just stared at the old man for a moment before continuing. “Can you put the gold in this box into the vault with the rest of the boxes? For your accounts, that will make it one thousand-seven-hundred and seventy-seven ingots.”

  The clerk knocked at the door. “Mr. Owens, I am here to witness and certify signatures.”

  “Come in, come in,” replied Owens.

  The clerk opened the box he carried and set out an inkwell, several pens and stamps. The clerk turned to Jimmy Lin. “You can begin signing documents at any time. Do you have a pen?”

  * * *

  3:00 PM, Necronist Guild House, Ile de la Cité, Paris, France

  Guild Master Hume entered Gerard’s office. Gerard lay on a chaise lounge with a migraine and arthritic pains in his hands and knees. “How did the Emperor’s treatment go?” inquired Gerard.

  “Too well. I would say we stripped off fifteen years of aging. Doctor Philas suggested that the Emperor take a sabbatical to Versailles and limit his exposure to the public. I agreed,” advised Hume.

  “It will be interesting to see how long the effects are sustained.” commented Gerard. His eyes closed as the light intensified the migraine.

  “We have readied the chamber for you, brother,” informed Hume.

  “Can you help me up?” Gerard began lifting himself up but was lacking energy and strength to move.

  “Yes, brother.” Hume helped Gerard to his feet. His breathing became labored from the exertion.

  As they walked through the mechanical room, Gerard stopped.

  “Are you alright? We are almost to the chamber,” said Hume. “I would like to check something. I will meet you inside.” Hume continued down the walkway towards the stairs that led to the tub room.

  Saint-Yves made his way towards the transfer chamber but ran out of energy. He looked around for someone to help that would not question what he planned to do. “You, technician, give me a hand.”

  With the assistance of the technician, Gerard made his way back to where he watched Hume transfer the spirits from the orb. The system was switched back to the traditional transfer chamber. The guild master opened the transfer chamber that held an ampule. Removing and slipping it into his pocket, he reached inside his jacket and held out the ampule that contained Angelica’s essence. He gazed through it then placed the article between the electrodes in the chamber.

  The technic
ian watched as he changed the vials.

  “What is your name, Acolyte?”

  “Bertan,” the young Acolyte replied.

  Gerard closed the chamber. “Please help me into the inner chamber, Acolyte.”

  “But I am not permitted inside the sacred chamber,” he replied.

  “I need your assistance. Let me rest my weary body on your shoulder. It will be alright. Acolyte, you have no reason to mention what you think you might have seen,” warned Gerard.

  When they stepped through the inner door, Hume bellowed, “Bertran, what are you doing?”

  “Hume, I asked him to assist me. It is not his doing,” Gerard explained.

  Hume moved to help Gerard. “Thank you, Acolyte. I will aid the guild master from here.” Hume whispered to Gerrard, “We must get you treatment quickly. Your judgment has been affected.”

  “I have suffered from poor judgment prior to the attack. I was just able to cover better when I had energy,” muttered Gerard.

  Hume assisted Saint-Yves in disrobing, placing the garments of the guild master on the hanger of the portable valet. While hanging Gerard’s jacket, Hume felt the ampule. He reached into the pocket, recognized the object and the number noted on it while looking back at Saint-Yves to see if he witnessed him discover the ampule. He had not. Gerard was occupied with steadying himself while removing his clothes. He slid it back into the pocket where he found it.

  Hume assisted Gerard into the tub. The guild master already seemed to be receiving some relief just floating in the ichor.

  Hume secured the tub, assuring that the vessel was sealed. The chamber master pushed the stand with Saint-Yves’ clothes as he walked out of the inner chamber and sealed the door. He then removed the ampule from Gerard’s clothes and walked to the conversion chamber to initiate the process. The vial in the chamber had no number. It had never been entered into inventory. He switched the unrecorded ampule for the numbered selected for the treatment. Safeties were released, cogs engaged and current applied with the push of a button.