Miss Alice Lovelady's First Omnibus of her Inexplicable Adventures

by Sadie Swift

  “Wait–” he began showing his surprise at what was happening.

  “We go. Now.”

  Resolve flared in Sir Percival’s be-goggled face.

  “No. She comes with me.”

  The Department liaison pushed against Sir Percival’s reluctance but found there was a reason in his university days he’d been picked to be a front row in rugby scrums – he was trying to move an immovable force.

  Ignoring the Department liaison’s feeble efforts Sir Percival walked back towards me and bent down to grab my wrist just as Tok appeared round the curtain. He took one look at the black covered figure and heaved me over his shoulder like I was merely a sack of coal then ran to Peter’s power source and, picking up the wrench, laid about it like a madman. All the time I felt further stings of aether darts.

  Apparently satisfied with his wanton destruction he ran after the Department liaison.

  Lifting my head I saw Tok standing still watching us leave, probably knowing he had no chance to catch us, but also the power source flaring bright orange – Sir Percival had damaged it enough so that it would melt and be useless to Tok.

  My vision now had a strange purple tinge. From reports Sir Percival had given me to read (as a sort of ‘don’t do this’ lesson) I knew my lifespan would be severely truncated. Strange thoughts boiled up in my mind – why didn’t I just kiss the girl when I had the chance? I should have knifed the disgusting fellow after the Christmas party; Why are a flamingo’s knees on backwards? Funny what the brain thinks of in times of stress. So funny that, as I was bouncing along on Sir Percival’s shoulder, I started giggling which then turned into a laugh which then turned into gasping for breath while wetting myself with uncontrollable hilarity. This was the next phase of poisoning.

  Then darkness.

  Three

  The mists of a dream evaporated from my mind and I realised I’d forgotten why it was so important that I chase the spoon down the road.

  Memories tentatively came back. Was I dead? I didn’t feel dead.

  Moving slightly I realised I was in a sweat-soaked bed. And that I was naked. In a strange way I hoped it had been Sir Percival who unclothed me as I knew he had absolutely no interest in my body – he was rather fond of the Cossack Horseriders Weekly publication that I discreetly obtained for him. I smiled knowing how he must have hated seeing a horrible female body.

  Why was I alive? I’d been hit by aetheric poison; I’d seen my blood turn purple. What had happened?

  A slow rhythmic breathing came to my ears.

  A clock ticked.

  Carefully I opened my eyes a crack. Flickering gaslight came from my left. I was in a plain room with whitewashed walls. Was I in a morgue? Would my waking up give someone a case of hysteria?

  With my eyes adjusted to the light I fully opened them. To one side Sir Percival slept, slumped in a chair. His profusion of hair seemed more unkempt than usual and his lab coat was in desperate need of ironing.

  He had saved me. For the second time. I had no illusions as to why he’d carried me away from being killed by Mr Tok – I kept him out of prison. By pretending to be his amour I gave the Department no reason to suspect and charge him for being a homosexual. Without me he’d die in a squalid cell in Newgate. Without him I’d be stuck as a lowly domestic servant or tutor to some rich snotty-nosed offspring. Whereas with him I’d immeasurably expanded my horizons, and helped pushed back the boundaries of aetheric knowledge. Not forgetting the nice dresses, of course.

  I recognised the room as one we used in case an experiment extended overnight and we needed to stay close to it by taking turns sleeping.

  Turning my head I saw the clock on the little side table. It said the time was One o’clock. Whether this was in the AM or PM was unknown to me as the room had no windows.

  My throat was dry and I cleared it hoping to wake Sir Percival up so he could get me some water.

  He didn’t move.

  I tried louder and he mumbled something about high boots. Oh dear, he was having another Cossack dream. Nothing else for it. I slowly tried to roll onto my side and found that I was weaker than a kitten.

  I rolled back into my warm, damp, body-shaped patch and croaked, “Sir Percival.”

  Nothing.

  I managed to get more saliva in my throat and tried again.

  “Sir Percival!”

  He struggled awake like he was in the midst of doing something my mind shied away from with a muscular (and probably naked) Cossack horserider.

  His eyes blinked and he looked wildly round the room as if hoping to see a strapping young gentleman. His eyes eventually settled on me and he smiled. Apparently I would do.

  “Good. I didn’t know if it would work.”

  “Water.”

  “Hmm? Oh, water. Yes.”

  He got up groaning as his muscles seemed not to have moved for a while, and headed out of the door.

  “Stay there,” he unnecessarily advised me.

  While I waited for his return I tried moving my limbs. They were serviceable but very weak. What was wrong with me? Then I chided myself for complaining that I wasn’t dead.

  The sound of footsteps returned and Sir Percival entered with a glass of water.

  He pulled his chair closer to me and sat in it, letting his arms rest on the bed while gently tipping the glass so I could sip from it.

  Curiosity was burning a fire in my mind.

  “What happened?” I asked between sips.

  “We got you out of there. You owe me for suit by the way. Disgusting side-effect. I’m afraid your dress can never be worn ever again. I’ve put it out to be incinerated.”

  “I meant, why aren’t I dead?”

  He looked away for a moment as if deliberating how much he could tell me.

  “A few years ago I tried to develop a tincture to counteract my own… inclinations.”

  I looked at him blankly.

  He gave a deep sigh and said, “To try and stop me liking men.”

  I had no idea what to make of this and managed to cover my confusion somewhat by sipping some more water.

  “Using my knowledge of the aether I tried to change my personality. In the course of its development I accidentally found it was successful against aetheric poison.”

  He’d given me something he’d made to try and stop being attracted to men? How would if affect me? It stopped me dying of course, but… was I still attracted to the fairer sex? I imagined Hazel-eyes, and kissing her soft sweet lips, running my hands through her auburn hair, our hands exploring each other’s bodies.

  It was rather enjoyable.

  “It doesn’t seem to have affected me.”

  “No, it had no effect on me either.”

  “Are you still trying to develop it?”

  “No. Not since I discovered the side-effects.”

  My blood ran cold.

  “Side-effects?”

  “I’d resemble Grimaldi’s clown.”

  He’d completely lost me now.

  Seeing my utter bewilderment he reached past me and picked up a mirror I’d not seen as it had been lying flat next to the clock. He held it up so I could behold myself.

  My dark blond hair was gone. It was now a bright shade of pink. I was speechless. I also looked very sweat-stained.

  “Imagine me with my beard and hair like that? I’d not be able to show myself in public. I’d have to shave it all off.”

  “But to know it did this,” I shuffled my shoulders vaguely trying to indicate my new coiffure colour, “You must have had pink hair for a period of time?”

  “I made good use of black boot polish, and it was well before we met, Miss Lovelady. I kept wondering whether I should dispose of the concoction, but never got round to doing anything about it. Just as well, don’t you think?”

  “How long will it last?”

  “I’ve no idea. I gave you a rather large dose as your symptoms were far advanced; as your dress and my suit will attest.”

&n
bsp; “What about the Department? Surely they must think I’m dead?”

  “I’ll just say that it was the power of our love.”

  We both grimaced at the very idea.

  “Really?”

  “No, I’ll probably say I built a machine that filtered the poison out of your blood, or somesuch nonsense.”

  “Will I always be this weak?”

  “I found that after a few hours I was as right as rain. I did however use a lower dose,” he said as if thinking out loud. “Best get some rest,” he added quickly, avoiding looking at me while he took his chair back against the wall and sat in it.

  “Are there any other side-effects I should know about?”

  “Not that I’m aware of.”

  Sleep was reclaiming me and I closed my eyes wondering how I should show off my new hair colour. Maybe flowers or a clashing fascinator. Perhaps even a top hat – I did look rather circus-like.

  “Oh, by the way, Miss Lovelady?”

  “Hmm?” I mumbled.

  “The Department have told me that we must find a way to stop Mr Tok before he strikes again.”

  Unladylike swear words and strange penguins followed me down into the dreaming depths.

  Four

  The next morning (after a very thorough wash) I assuaged a ravenous hunger with more kedgeree than was safe for most humans. Then I put my lab-coat on over a plain blue working dress and joined Sir Percival in the fully equipped laboratory (the secret Government Department was very well funded). I felt fully rested now and wanted to get things back to normal as fast as possible.

  The large brass pipes running along the ceiling to carry away noxious vapours felt like old friends, and I realised how much I’d miss them if I were dead.

  We had no aetheric experiments currently active so the large windowless room was quiet and thankfully odour-free.

  Reflections of my pink hair followed me in the empty glassware as I walked over to the bench where Sir Percival sat. A magazine was slightly open in front of him and I caught sight of a headline stating ‘Ivan and his Rock Hard Buns’. If he were such a useless baker why was he advertising his wares? Quickly Sir Percival slid the publication under a open buff folder.

  “Do you have any ideas about Mr Tok?” I asked, pulling my favourite stool over and sitting by his side.

  The buff folder looked to contain a typewritten report. He glanced at my hair noting the mother-of-pearl combs I’d used as decoration and indicated the report, “We must examine the facts, Miss Lovelady, and deduce a plan of action.”

  He scrubbed at an imaginary stain on the bench with the elbow of his white lab coat which had the added effect of moving the other publication deeper into hiding beneath the folder. I decided not to press the issue.

  “And?”

  “I… er think better with a cup of tea.”

  “So, nothing?”

  Except the joys of Russian horse riding, and possibly baking, I thought primly to myself.

  “The facts seem so disparate as to make no sense.”

  Leaning over I pulled the report sheets closer and examined what was currently known about Mr Tok and his attacks. Apparently the only link between the places Tok appeared was that they had large amounts of aether. Which he was probably stealing to power his madness. And the penguins.

  Why did I always come back to the penguins?

  Why use penguins? Was it something from his childhood? What places had penguins? I believe London Zoo had a colony. Were they Rockhopper ones though? Was he a deranged zookeeper? Maybe that was a thread to examine. Museums? Those specialising in natural history?

  “Penguins,” I said to Sir Percival.

  He took a moment to process what I’d said. “Those ones with the black suits you were wary of at the exhibition?”

  I’d forgotten he’d not seen the death-breath Rockhopper penguins on the attack, just Mr Tok in his black suit. Quickly I brought him up to speed and saw his cloud-like eyebrows try to float away off his head at the conclusion of my summary.

  “They did that?” he said, aghast.

  I nodded, “Indeed. Most disconcerting.”

  “Why Rockhopper ones though?” he said, mirroring my own thoughts. “Perhaps a visit to London Zoo?”

  “What about the aether? Do you know of anywhere else that would be experimenting with it?”

  “Only a very few places. At least three universities. And here, of course.”

  Ah, I’d forgotten about that little nuance. “Would be attack us?”

  “The Department is very protection-minded. Also I designed most of the defence systems myself. Although none of my plans took into account the offensive capabilities of penguins…” his voice tailed off and I noticed he was looking up at the brass tubes running above our heads.

  I saw they were certainly spacious enough for a largish black and white flightless bird to traverse.

  We looked at each other.

  “Perhaps it’s time to upgrade the protective devices?” he said.

  “Indeed. I believe I shall sleep more soundly knowing no frock coat-wearing bird will be able to enter and kill me.”

  “I shall put it to the Department forthwith.”

  “Shall we begin the investigation with a trip to the zoo, Sir Percival?”

  “I believe we shall, Miss Lovelady. But perhaps also take along some protection.”

  Five

  The Department liaison accompanied us on our trip to London Zoo. His large size contained in a tweed suit and coat seemed to eat up the interior space in the steam carriage Wilkins drove. Before we departed both gentlemen took in my new hair colour with aplomb and I felt slightly put out by it. Was I hoping for some expression of disgust or surprise? Or was I getting the feeling of ‘oh, what’s that silly girl gone and done now?’. Whatever it was it decreased my enjoyment of the experience of two trips out in as many days and cast a pall over my thoughts while I watched puffy clouds play with the sun over the open fields and woods.

  Whether it was due to my thoughts or something else I certainly picked up a sense of unease as soon as we entered the outskirts of London. Pedestrians seemed to be hurrying to their destinations and ladies who loitered outside shops were soon chivvied along by their companions.

  “Something seems amiss,” I said to Sir Percival.

  He glanced out the window his side and nodded. “Indeed, Miss Lovelady. Perhaps the aftermath of the exhibition.”

  A thought came to me, “Will we be able to gain access to the zoo?” I asked the liaison, in case they’d closed due to the events of last night.

  “Yes, Miss. I have been in touch with superiors at the Department. London Zoo have been informed and will provide entry. They are apparently puzzled by such important interest.”

  It was what those in the Navy called a ‘long shot’, but the Rockhopper link with Mr Tok was an intriguingly strange one.

  Our carriage arrived at the Broadwalk and we chuffed sedately through Regents Park towards the zoo. I could smell the place before seeing it as there was a definite ‘country’ scent in the air.

  Wilkins rolled to a stop outside the entrance and the Department liaison exited first to check the surroundings. When he was satisfied we weren’t going to be jumped upon by the excited children lined up at the entrance he held out a hand and helped me down. A few childish titters reached me – they must have seen my hair. It was definitely beginning to grow on me, in both senses of the word.

  Before leaving I’d changed into a more practical leather bodice and trousers, with a white blouse. In order to hide my weaponry I’d also brought a long leather coat. My hair contrasted gorgeously with it. Even though I say it myself I did look rather spiffing.

  Sir Percival handed me a long wooden container that contained my gun. Over the time I’d been working in the laboratory I’d made modifications to it among which were Tesla coils, some rather nice engraving, and other knick-knacks. Quickly I opened the box and flicked a switch to charge the coils, then slid t
he box out of sight under my long coat into a long pocket made specially to accommodate it.

  Yet more childish laughter reached my ears when the hirsute Sir Percival made his appearance. He’d informed me of his dislike for wearing hats (some traumatic childhood incident he hadn’t divulged to me), so his hair was frequently the centre of attention. Making sure his pistols were decently secreted about his tweed country-gentleman’s attire he joined me in following the liaison to the gate.

  Due to the Department’s query we were met at the entrance by the short, stout zoo manager. Eyeing us suspiciously (especially our hair) and probably wondering who we were he carefully shook our hands.

  “Welcome, may I ask if there was any special animals you wished to visit?”

  “The penguins,” replied Sir Percival.

  The manager smiled, probably thinking we were just visiting dignitaries bent on enjoying ourselves. “A fine sight. Please follow me.”

  Turning he led the way past a uniformed worker who held the gate open for us and then securely locked it behind.

  Happy chattering from the fellow visitors mixed with strange sounds from the animal exhibits met us as we walked along. Sir Percival walked with the manager chatting about the animals we passed. The Department liaison, looking like a grumpy hippo, followed behind keeping an eye on everyone that he could, and I walked in the middle my long coat flapping around my legs feeling somewhat like one of those penny-dreadful fictional cowboys - armed and going after the black-hatted bad guy.

  We arrived at the penguin enclosure and I had a nasty flashback to the previous evening when I saw the yellow eyebrows. These though weren’t wearing bespoke black frock coats, and their eyes didn’t have a strange purplish tinge. In fact they were rather sweet.

  “How many staff have worked with these?” asked Sir Percival.

  “Since we obtained them? Many. They do rather grow on one.”

  “Any strange occurrences you know about?” I asked.

  “Er, with any large group of staff there are bound to be… shenanigans. Do you wish to feed them?” he very quickly added.