by Avell Kro
please take us up to the engineering deck” said Penfold. “Step on in gents,” said Cecil a young boy
who sat on a stool next to the controls for the verticulator.
The gate crashed closed, Cecil pushed a button then threw a lever. Dolly could hear the dynamo
whir under the car then the cables jerk up. The verticulator shaft for the first fifty feet had a wood
casing that blocked the view. Once they cleared the casing the car was now completely exposed to
the elements except for the wire cage that made it structure. Dol y was in awe of the panorama of
London the lift provided.
“Detective, the HMS Victoria will be the First Ship of the Line for the European Fleet with over two
hundred guns and a crew of six hundred sixty airmen. Where the HMS Warrior had a length of five
hundred and eighty feet, the structure of the Victoria would be eleven hundred feet bow to stern.
To make this project possible we are working closely in conjunction with the Mechanist’s and have
been commissioning mechanist engineers into the Air Service. I am an example, before my
coming into the Air Service I trained as an engineer in Birmingham then chartered as a guild
member after my apprenticeship. My specialty is pumping and compression, but here I am more
of a project manager than a tinkerer.”
Soon the view was obstructed again as the verticulator entered the scaffolding sections and they
whizzed by floor after floor of workers that were crawling all over the ship. The elevator stopped
hard and Cecil opened the cage. “Hard to imagine you are one hundred and eighty feet in the air,”
said Cecil.
Penfold continued his tour. “This is the heart of the ship the compression room, and why we were
able to leapfrog the Prussian zeppelin design. Rather than having gasbags housed within a cloth
and metal frame, the HMS Victoria, like its smaller sister ship, the HMS Warrior has pressurized
spherical gas cells and the ship uses Guild-Mech Envenrude L. Pruflek’s vapor compression ballast
system. This innovation allows the ship to store a supply of LQ gas in a compressed state to
function as ballast, then the gas is pumped and put to a vapor state in the cells to cause flotation.
The process makes the airship far more agile. Coal powered steam driven propel ers provide
propulsion, but the gas can be rebalanced between cells and ballast tanks to change pitch yaw and
altitude. Follow me this way,” Penfold took Dolly up a set of stairs to the midline of the ship where
he felt more like he was in a large production brewery than a ship, as far as he could see were
giant brass domes. “Detective here you see Thirty-two brass cel s each is twenty-two feet in
diameter distributed on a horizontal iron superstructure. With separate cells the loss of integrity
on up to ten cells would not ground the ship” The two men walked along the midline gangways;
dozens of workers moving about on them welding riveting and sawing.
Now Dolly was feeling a little squeamish with the heights. He was the highest he had ever been
with only the rail of the midline walkways to stop him from falling hundreds of feet to his death.
He could see the whole city and more importantly he could see the layout of the Baden works and
the groupings of protesters clustered around the four gates.
“Commander, would it be possible for us to put some officers up here to watch those gates?” asked
Dolly.
“That Detective, is an interesting question. You see, I am here as the Air Service Liaison a guest on
the Lloyds property, while they build the ship. While they need to make me and my inspectors
happy for us to accept the ship. This is their property, so you would need to ask the owners or do
whatever you gents do through the court.”
This would be an excellent place to watch from, but he would have to have Commissioner Mayne
pursue the matter. At the very least, he needed to get Sargent Aekins up here for the bird’s eye
view, and to assess how he saw the situation on the ground.
Penfold went back to his tour “Now, armor runs from the top decks to the midline walkways. Then
the lower armor runs from the bottom of the catwalk to the lower decks creating a true ironclad
airship. While upper and lower decks are traditional one inch cold rolled iron plate, the armor that
spanned the cells was Professor Honeysuckle’s iron webbing. Touch it Detective.”
“It’s flexible not rigid,” said Dolly.
“Exactly, Honeysuckle an American inventor migrated to England by invitation of the Guild, he has
advanced a mechanical process to generate huge sheets of chain mail coated in hemp and
vulcanized rubber to give added protection. Very light and the flexibility dissipates impact,” Penfold
added.
“Of course the discovery of Luminiferous Quintessence, the lightest of the eldritch elements,
changed airship design and eliminates the risk of explosion that came with using earthly elements
like hydrogen, and that plant is our only source. I have been up here watching the Huns and it’s
clear as day to me that just as I am spying on them they are looking up at me”
“There will be no ship with more or superior ordnance. Holding over two hundred guns and thirty-
two tubes for drop bombs, she can outmaneuver smaller ships and out gun any airship but without
that gas this is just a junk pile on stilts.” said the Commander. “Let me show you the wheelhouse
and navigation.” Dolly followed the Commander through bulkheads, hallways stairwells and gang
ways, a complex maze to the destination of the bridge of the ship.
“So here is another first, this ship has the latest version of the Trigonometric Solution Register, a
mechanical calculator that develops firing solutions for the gun batteries and this is mechanically
linked to the Astronomical and Solar Gyrosynchronous Navigator. Two amazing mechanist
inventions that facilitate the navigation of the airship and automatic resolution of gun targeting,”
explained Penfold.
Dol y looked about, but he couldn’t make heads or tails of all the gauges and registers that made up
the bridge. Penfold now began to paint a picture as they looked out the large forward facing
window of the bridge with Dolly standing behind the ship’s wheel. “Think about this Detective
Williamson, from a distance her rifled top deck gun turrets hold steady on a target as the TrigSol
adjusts the guns in synchrony with the rapid moves you make at this wheel, GyroNav and the Gas
compression flotation system allows you to outmaneuver, and the TrigSol to out gun your
enemies. After destroying an enemy air fleet, you then could rise high over a metropolis and
annihilate the populace with drop bombs and mortars, while ground based guns would never
achieve the altitude she could obtain.” There was a perverse pride in the commander’s eyes as he
painted the picture of the havoc the ship would wreak”
“Very impressive Commander. I can see now the importance of your work, and the amazing job
you’re all doing. While I will talk with my superiors about the protesting at the Works across the
road, might I suggest that you reach out to your superiors to see about a detachment of Royal
Marines to be quartered here or at a bare minimum to come up here and provide a tactical
assessment for you,“ suggested Dol y.
“Good idea, Man! You know I am no warrior, came into this service as an engineer, but
I do know a
good plan and smart execution will win the day.”
Dol y thought how he would love to get shifts of constables up here with telescopes to watch the
crowd for trouble.
* * *
2:00 PM Gilchrist Manor
The steam coupe Sister Rose drove belonged to Weng Lo. The latest model fabricated by Swift
Carriage Company, capable of a top speed of forty miles per hour. There were only a few places
where you could let the carriage out at full throttle in the city, but there were places on these
country roads where Rose would let the red and electrochrome speedster show its paces.
Rose needed Preston Gilchrist’s guidance and the poet rarely left his home, when he did it was to
go to the asylum. Rose was one of the few people Preston enjoyed seeing or at least let in the
mansion. The manor house also contained the largest library of arcana in England, maybe even in
the world. Shelves of texts that have not been together since the grand library of Alexandria and
much more composed since then by eastern and western scholars, dissecting ancient works or
striking out into other fields of study. To access the millions of pages written in hundreds of
tongues some not utilized in millennia. The library’s proprietor had dedicated his existence to
exploring and interpreting what the tomes held.
The county road to the mansion was long and straight. Rose opened her up whilst keeping an eye
on the boiler temperature and the water level, along with the speedometer. The first two held
steady as the last one climbed, she was rolling along at thirty-two miles per hour.
As she reached the manor she engaged the clutch, throttled the steam exhaust and administered
the brake bringing the car to a moderate speed making the corner into the drive. She suddenly
threw the throttle and let off the clutch. Gears engaged, and the coupe shot down the gravel drive
Spitting a wake of gravel. The trees that flanked the drive way whizzed by as the cool air rushed
over the windscreen and through her hair. Going this fast Rose had no occasion to contemplate
anything but driving the car -Freedom.
As she neared the residence and the parkway in front, the clutch was pushed to the floor, the
steam throttle released and she dampered the burners. Once stopped, she flung open the door and
skipped out. A sight to see, the sleek two-seater next to the raven haired lass, in brown calf high
boots and airmen pants. A sapphire hued and brown brocade waistcoat was over a navy silk and
baleen bustier. She pulled her wind goggles down around her neck then tussled the road dust out of
her hair.
A harried footman jogged to greet her falling tardy of his duty of opening the coupe door for the
driver.
“M’lady do you have any bags?” He asked.
“Just the one, could you also fill the bin with pulverized coal and keep an eye on her while the
boiler cools, thank you,” Her athletic strides took her across the parkway, while removing her
driving gloves and tucking them in her belt.
The chief butler was at the front step. “Ms. Caldwell, it is a pleasure to have you back at Gilchrist.
How long will you be staying?”
“Just today William. Let me guess, Preston is in the library?” enquired Rose as she looked up at
the large elderly man.
Willian Brentwood stepped sideways and signaled with his hand for Rose to enter. Once in the
vestibule, she strolled past the stoic looking footman waiting at attention, with his white gloved
hands remaining at his sides. She glanced at him and guessed he may be new at the house and
unfamiliar with her demeanor at Gilchrist manor. This was one of the few places where the
landowner may be weirder than her.
Down the hall past the drawing room turning left to enter the library Rose noted how spotless and
desolate the chambers looked. Nothing out of place. When she reached the door, she twisted the
handle hoping it would be unlocked, but the door was latched. “Preston it is Rose and we have
work to do.” She turned and leaned her back against the door, waiting. Brentwood was standing at
attention. “He has been in there for over a week,”
“Have a hearty lunch prepared with some fresh orange juice and his laudanum. I will bring him
back. Promise," She gave him a smile, as she unbuttoned her tunic.
“Thank you M’lady” Brentwood turned to leave as the library door unlatched, he proceeded
downstairs to the kitchen.
She turned and slowly opened the door to the library. It was dark, Preston had blacked out all the windows with draperies and sat naked on the oriental carpet with an oil lamp, books, and papers
surrounding him.
“Doesn’t the wool of the rug make your bum itch?” Rose asked, as she closed the door behind her,
latching it. Rose looked around the chamber to get her bearings. She stepped closer into the aura
of the oil lamp, Preston had the “Tome of Daemonology”, “Jaharudin's Verses of Other Domains”,
and the “Third Grimoire of Ashrok” along with undecipherable scrolls he was feverishly reading
and cross referencing from book to book. In the eyes of her beloved church there was multiple
acts of heresy and blasphemy occurring in front of her. She could not fathom how he could read so
many languages, some being forgotten or other worldly.
“Preston, Preston,” she called.
No response.
“Azul Hassan,” Rose yelled.
Preston turned and peered at her “Ah, how splendid to see you again Sister,” answered Preston in
English, with a heavy Arabic accent.
“Azul you need to take a rest you are wearing out this body," said Rose
Preston stared at his hands then noticed he was naked in the presence of a lady. “Sister, my
sincerest apologies, my condition is improper.” He stood covering his privates and made his way to
an armchair where he had dropped his dressing gown. Preston donned the robe then turned to
greet Rose. “My dear Sister you see how I get engrossed in my research.”
“I do, Azul. But I need Preston back to consult. Can you get him back here?” Rose now held
Preston’s hands in hers, and looking down on them, they were covered in ink stains from writing
and dust from the tomes.
“What is it? Maybe I can be of aid,” said Azul.
“ You may. But I was expecting to talk to Preston.” This would take Rose longer to bring him back.
She decided she would have to work with what she had and continued to talk with Azul.
“Azul Hassan, I presume you are familiarized with the practices of the Necromancer?”
“I am wel versed. I have read the texts of the Necronist and the classic and ancient, such as the
scrolls of Osiris.”
“Have you seen this?” she pulled out an illustration she had drawn up from memory of the totem,
she saw at the Chilton town house.
Preston stared at the drawing, “very curious.” He was lost in thought; looking at the sketch and
shuffling towards his book case.
Rose looked to the sill of the door and saw Brentwood’s signal he was ready and waiting at the
door. A simple sheet of writing paper under the transom. Rose walked to the exit and released the
latch, peeking out. There stood the butler and two servants with trays. She opened the door, Brentwood hurried to get the first tray into her hands. She set it on the floor inside the office, then
grabbed the second tra
y. Without saying a word, she spun around and used her backside to push
the door closed. It shut loudly, and that startled Preston. “What are you up too?” challenged Azul
with a belligerent tone laced with paranoia.
“Just lunch. I am ravenous,” stated Rose.
“Very well,” reacted the alter ego of Preston.
Rose put the tray down on the desk and lifted the plate covers, potato soup and roast beef
sandwich with pickled beet. She took a bite of the sandwich then placed it on the plate. She was
famished. Her situation left her without means, and that meant she did not get regular meals, let
alone veggies and fresh baked bread.
Preston shifted the bookcase ladder then ascended the ladder bringing down several volumes. He
sat at the desk and turned on the desk arc lamp. This was an excellent sign her friend didn't seem
to acknowledge his arbitrary action of turning on the electricity in the room, more intent on
examining the book he had in front of him than consideration for Azul's fear of modernity. Rose
sauntered over to the second tray and picked it up. This tray had the laudanum bottle on it. She
palmed the vial before picking up the tray and setting it on the other side of the large desk.
Preston flipped through the pages reading in some language that Rose could not identify. She
lifted the lid off the other tray and ate, watching Preston page through the text. Certain he was
absorbed in research, she put a dropper ful of laudanum in the orange juice, a healthy dose.
“Azul Hassan when did you eat last?” Preston looked up befuddled then smiled “I don’t recall,"
“Here is some fresh juice” she handed him the glass. He accepted it and set it down on the desk
absorbed with his inquiry.
“Here it is the, the.. the totem is. used in the Pwen Hanan by a Hougan in a Voodoo ritual of soul
capture” He pointed in the book at an engraving of five different totems, one appearing very
much like Rose’s sketch.
“Ooh, where did you see this, what you drew here?” said Preston, wide eyed and in his heavy
accent, pounding his finger on Rose’s drawing.
“In London. Along with a body stripped of life,"
Preston picked up the orange juice and took a big gulp followed by a thirst quenching Ahh sound.