by J M Bannon
“Major,” Captain Kallweit greeted Caspar as he boarded the Hunsrück. The airship was hidden in the hanger where it was kept for secrecy. The ship was the latest design and included innovations procured from the espionage of Lloyd Works in London.
“Captain I have a location on our quarry. Agents in Constantinople have placed the target ship, named the Peregrine, at the Istanbul Aerodrome. We are to proceed to this location to pick up the trail.”
“Ah, Falk," said Kallweit.
“Falk?”
"The Captain of the Peregrine, a Danish woman who made a name for herself in America as a merchant pilot. She holds the record for transiting the United States from coast to coast in record time."
“In this Peregrine?” Reinhold suddenly felt a swoon of urgency to get flying and to catch them.
"No, that bird is old and no match for our bird of prey. While she is expert at the wheel, the Hunsrück and I will easily out maneuver her. If she is in sight we will take her," Kallweit had proven to be a reliable tactician and Caspar trusted his judgement.
“My men will be ready soon. I would like to make way within the hour.” stated Caspar.
Kallweit and Reinhold frequently worked together on missions as the Hunsrück was the best ship suited for clandestine assignments. Major Reinhold’s Third Reconnaissance Detachment was known throughout the Prussian military as Caspar’s Ghosts. He had served in the First Schleswig War with honor but over the last ten years, Caspar and his men acted as the action arm of the foreign office and as a deterrent to others who might plan ill will toward the Prussian Crown.
Kallweit pointed to a stocky trooper bearing the rank of lieutenant, “Who is that new fellow on your team?”
"That, old man is the future, he is our Kampfalchemist."
“You are bringing a wizard into the field?” continued Captain Kallweit.
“Kallweit, this ship of yours would be a heap of shit if it were not for those gases the wizards have mined from other worlds. Lieutenant Ulrik is part of the group using the alchemical wonders to produce more effective weapons. While we were able to watch from the sidelines of the Crimean war, did you take note of what modernity was doing to the battlefield?” asked Reinhold.
“I did. I wasn’t degrading your Kampfalchemist, I was taking a shot at you. You were once such a purist, one with his sword and pistol and now you embrace the arcane on the battle field?” Kallweit jabbed his friend.
“That is why this mission is critical for Prussia. One of our greatest alchemical minds has gone missing and we will locate her, return her and eliminate those who think they can wantonly take from us what is ours. When I was notified the ship en route to Königsberg was sighted in Constantinople, I was not surprised. If Ottomans have conspired to get our alchemical secrets, it is to turn them against us on the battlefield. Think of that Kallweit, Prussian boys killed in combat by weapons stolen from us. I will not allow it,” ranted Caspar.
Kallweit patted Caspar’s shoulder in an effort to calm him.
“I can only hope we have the opportunity to play with our new toys and you and our enemies will see how I have embraced this new way of combat. The true weapons are the men working in concert, but the instruments they use have changed. As the conductor guiding the intent and action of the weapons, I will punish these thieves.” Caspar Reinhold explained with confidence.
“Well Captain, you are not the only one working with the Ministry of Defense and the Alchemists. After we alight and you brief us, I will show you some of my new toys.” offered Captain Kallweit.
18
Sunday the 10th of June 1860
6:30 a.m. Courtyard at Ahmed Pasha's Estate
Preston was perched on the edge of the water fountain in the center of the garden courtyard. He had not enjoyed this level of peace and serenity in years. His mind felt fresh, he wasn’t racing from one end of the globe to another, in an effort to find, use or categorize lost knowledge. He sat and listened to the water trickle and felt the warm sun on his face, without the intrusion of his ancient companion.
Lorelei approached and sat down beside him. "I am sorry, Preston. I rushed to what was the logical solution for the problem."
Preston looked up at her. "I was thinking about my father while I sat here and how he told me he was proud of me to adventure rather than fill my head with some old man’s ideas. I did, and I pursued it to its full extent at such a cost: my sanity, what we could have been together and so much more, and to what end? No matter how I look at my choices I failed. I followed in my old man’s footsteps chasing answers to some lost piece of history always on the move and overlooking what is precious in the present to seek what would be simply a nugget of wisdom. All the searching resulted in me literally having my head filled with an old man’s thoughts. Now that I have Azul out of my head, I wonder if the last ten years have been a waste?"
"I understand pursuing a goal only to find you can’t get what you thought you would out of it. I know obsession too, Preston, it hurt when you left, but I understood being driven. I have an ambition to achieve more than any Traube ever has. I was certain it was the right path to follow as my intellect outstripped any man or conundrum I faced until now." replied Lorelei.
"Well, you stuffed this one up. We need to get back to Rose and let her know we are both safe, then go to the Guild and inform them that these experiments can’t continue." Preston patted the edge of the fountain, suggesting for Lorelei to sit.
"They won’t have any of that. The Crucible is the showpiece for the High Elector’s International conference and the Guild members dreams of creating a fortune in raw materials has perverted the purpose of the Guild. It is not about the elemental sciences anymore, it is about being the primary supplier to the world." relayed Lorelei.
“So, your plan was to lure me here and have me teach Ahmed how to reseal the stone?” asked Preston.
"It is the only hope for them to re-learn the old ways. I can’t comment on the current condition but if they conduct trials with the Crucible, it requires use of the whole stone in the reaction chamber. What we are doing is turning those recipes you gave my father into a plasma, speeding it up, then pummeling the stone with the high energy flux. Maxwell posits this process re-creates the energies that forged the Universe. I fear it will remove the last of the binding magic from the stone," Lorelei explained.
“Maxwell?” asked Gilchrist.
"Doctor James Maxwell, surely you have heard of him, he’s quite the celebrity in England."
“Yes, I have and as I remember a handsome man. Are you two…?”
"Professionals. That is our relationship, Preston. I have a bargain for you. I will stop with my games. No more from this point forward, if you help me to clean up this mess by getting the stone repaired. Somehow, I will convince the Guild not to proceed with the Crucible. After that I will come back to England with you and we will start fresh." Lorelei proposed.
“I would like that,” replied Preston, standing up.
"A chance to pick up where we left off," Lorelei beamed.
"So much has passed since then, but we can put it all behind us and begin again," Preston drew Lorelei closer to him.
“I would like that,” parroted Lorelei.
* * *
8:40 a.m. The Peregrine, Istanbul Aerodrome
“We have a visitor” exclaimed Lucas Maes from the gangway.
Rose made haste from the bridge of the Peregrine out into the gangway. Ever since Rose's return the crew was on high alert. Lucas carried a long rifle as he patrolled the gangway. Rose touched his shoulder when she came up behind him, “what do we have?”
“Beats me, anyone you know?” said Lucas.
An elegant, open- top Burlington Mayweather steam carriage had stopped at the foot of the gangway. The driver exited to open the rear passenger door, but before he could get to the door, the passenger had already let himself out. A Turkish man dressed in quintessential middle-class clerk attire: European suit and a fez. It was diffi
cult to make out his qualities at this distance but it was clear he was looking them up and down.
"My name is Garrett Atwood. I am looking for Rose Caldwell on behalf of her friend Dolly, may I come aboard?" shouted the man.
Rose turned to Lucas “Can you let him aboard?”
"Well, that is your choice," replied Lucas as he went to the freight deck to open the exit.
“Yes, please allow him aboard and if you wouldn't mind, bring him to the bridge,” directed Rose.
Rose made her way back inside the Peregrine and joined the captain at the map table. "Lucas is bringing a man to the bridge, a stranger, but he says he is a here on behalf of my boss at Scotland Yard.”
Lucas led the man onto the bridge, then remained by the door. Rose noticed him give her a glare and a nod when their eyes met. She nodded back not actually knowing what that meant but suspecting he was keeping watch.
The Turk reached into his pocket, Rose’s body tensed as the man withdrew an article from inside his coat pocket. The entire crew was sensitive to the man's movements, watching anxiously.
Atwood recognized the extra tension in the cabin and ceased moving. “I am just going to offer you my card, the name is Garrett Atwood, Cultural Attaché to her Majesty's Embassy in Constantinople. I am part of her Majesty's foreign service.”
“You're a spy,” stated the Captain.
“Spies get shot, I consider my position more as a clandestine researcher. The point of my call is this, my office received a wire-type a few hours ago from Scotland Yard, that you may be in peril and as a constable of the Metropolitan Police Department and a citizen of the United Kingdom I am here for assistance and protection,” said Atwood.
Rose accepted the card, read it then peered up at him. “You don't much look like a Garrett Atwood.”
"Why because I'm a wog? Well, half wog, my father was an Englishman in the foreign services, my mother is Turkish. Born in Hong Kong with formative years in Shropshire. Like my father, I served the Crown and my physical appearance gives me advantages in this city. Now as to your situation, how may I be of service?" replied Garrett.
“A group of men kidnapped my friend Preston off the streets of Constantinople yesterday. I could use your help to locate him, so I might liberate him," offered Rose.
“This fellow, is he a citizen of the Crown?"
"His name is Preston Gilchrist, the sole heir of Lord Gilchrist." Rose informed Atwood.
“Well you can't have folks snatching British Lords off the streets. I will make inquiries, and as for you and the safety of the crew I have two options to offer citizens of the United Kingdom, you can come with me now to go directly to the embassy.” Atwood pulled a small union jack out of his side pocket. “The other will require your Captain to re-flag this ship. I will send over two Royal Marines from the embassy detachment to board and guard the ship.
"Rose grabbed the flag and unfurled it."
"If the ship is in so much danger we need to fly the British flag and carry a complement of Marines, it may be time we part company," injected Falk.
"I'm not looking to start an international incident here, I need to find whoever grabbed Preston. Let's keep this simple Mr. Atwood, if you could do me the favor of checking with your local sources regarding the abduction of Mr. Gilchrist, I would be beholden," replied Rose.
"Detective Williamson also sent this wire for your attention," Atwood pulled out an envelope and passed it to Rose. She opened it and began to read.
Rose,
If you have found yourself in dire straits, flee to the consulate, they will help you get back to London.
I will do what I can from this side to assist. Understand no matter where you are you have the full resources of the Metropolitan Police Department. In addition, I will pull every string I can of her Majesty's government to help you..
The sun never sets on the Empire.
Dolly,
The boss has my back.
“Is it bad news?” asked Captain Falk.
Rose dried her moist eyes. "No, excellent news. Preston is counting on me and I just got a reminder that I have people I can count on too. I was feeling a little alone for a minute or two."
"Ms. Caldwell, I can attest that the further out you get in the Empire the more alone you can feel. Remember that there are many of us out here at service to the Crown," added Atwood.
Thank you, Mr. Atwood this has been a huge help. Knowing you and the Home Office are helping rejuvenates me and I think the best course of action is for you to investigate the whereabouts of Mr. Gilchrist and Ms. Traube, while I utilize some of my unconventional techniques.” Rose suggested.
"Agreed, let me get back to the embassy and find out more about Mr. Gilchrist. This city has a lively underground that can be swifter than a wire -type for passing intelligence."
19
Monday, the 11th of June 1860
11:00 AM, The Offices of the Alchemists Guild, Königsberg Prussia
High Elector Klaus Kiefer was being measured for a new ceremonial uniform, the one he would wear to the inauguration of the first International Alchemical Conference to be held in September.
The conference would begin after the Victorian Technical Spectacle ended in July, assuring peak attendance at the halls allowing the great alchemical minds time to travel to Prussia. Of primary importance would be the technical sessions where the Guild would show a leadership role and guide worldwide research by encouraging all scientist, chemists, and alchemists to adhere to common languages of measurement and formulation. Oh, and then there was the Crucible unveiling.
The tailor brought an elaborate set up to the Guild office: a triptych of mirrors, a carpeted pedestal for the High Elector to stand on and several assistants to comment on the cut and silhouette of the uniform. Kiefer knew this was a costly extravagance, but the Guild was paying the tab.
The silk jacket was dyed in the unique Cobalt blue of the Alchemists. Kiefer admired the look of the jacket in the mirror as his tailor made final adjustments. While he would not wear the coat for another four months he imagined how it would finally look with its intricate braiding and shoulder epaulets designating his high station in the Guild, Prussian society and military service. He lived the classic persona of Prussian aristocracy, his hair and long sideburns were peppered with grey as was his manicured thick mustache. He had several Mensur scars on his left cheek from his younger days of fencing duels at the gymnasium. In this uniform, he would look the part of a Field Marshal, a rank he never achieved in his uneventful military career.
His personal secretary came in, "I have Baron von Traube to see you, Sir."
"Send the good Baron in," he replied to the reflection in the mirror.
"Ah ha, now that jacket is fit for the Admiralty, not a man who made plumbing pastes for a living," remarked Traube.
"Gus, good of you to come. With the incident, there has been even more work to get the plant commissioning, and the conference planned. On all of that, I don’t have great news for you," said the High Elector.
“What is it now?” Traube’s large girth deflated under more uncertainty around his daughter.
"Your man Gilchrist, who you sent the ship for, is up to something. The Peregrine flew to Berlin and two of the crew broke into Köpenick Palace. Gorber shared the report, a desk of some import was broken into, what was taken is unknown. That’s not all. The ship has been sighted in Constantinople," reported Kiefer.
"That twerpy little Englishman hasn’t been outside of his house for years. I was shocked he was prepared to travel here. Now you say he is in Constantinople, what could he be up to?"
“Unless you're up to something Gustavus. Have you told me everything I need to know?”
Everyone was startled with the huge clap of Traube's hands. "That Englishman, he must be on to her trail. I knew he could do it!"
"Or he is cooperating with Ottoman agents, you know those heathens have been trying to obtain our secrets for years." Kiefer lamented.
; “Well, if he were indeed collaborating with these Turks, then why do I have all of Lorelei’s feedstock bills for the Crucible?” answered Traube.
“How did you get those?” asked Kiefer.
“My point exactly, the Englishman transcribed them from her notebook. I reviewed them all while I was in Paris having work done on the Esperance. My girl was very detailed, so much so a fat old apothecary could muster these bills,” Traube handed the thick ream of papers to his superior.
Kiefer stepped off the platform and hugged Gustavus. “Oh, this is such good news, my friend. Overshadowed by your daughter's plight of course, but superb news for the conference and the project.”
“Watch the pins,” squeaked the Tailor, as he scurried out of the way of the two men hugging, a pompous show of affection.
Klaus Kiefer looked through the bills of material that Gustavus handed him. Traube was right, even the two them of could get these feedstocks produced from the notes he had Gilchrist transcribe. “Baron von Traube, Elector to the council of the Guild, I wish you to perform the duties of completing the commissioning of the Crucible. On the day of our unveiling I ask you as the head of the Traube clan and my esteemed friend to be the official that cuts the ribbon at the conference.”
“Thank you, my friend, it will be such an honor and I feel it is my duty to my little girl to make sure that in her absence, her good work continues. Because I am sure that Preston will find her and bring her back, so she can be the Traube that ignites the Crucible at your conference.” Traube gave him a hearty handshake. “I will go over to the process plant and discuss with Maxwell the timeline for completion. I am sure he will be pleased to learn that I can step into Doctor Traube’s shoes.”
Klaus shuddered thinking of Gus’s big red-haired legs stuffed into the shoes of the tiny Lorelei. “Ugh, could you even get your big toe into her petite shoe?”