by J M Bannon
"Mr. Sheppard, I ask that you give myself and my partners time to review the prospectus and collect our questions as to the terms of the transaction. Would next Wednesday work to reconvene?"
"It will, and Mr. Jagal will be at your disposal to answer questions or to provide further documentation in support of his work," said Sheppard opening the door waiting for Mr. Jagal to collect his belongings and follow him out.
Sir Lester stood up and shook Shepard’s hand then turned to Owens,"Mr. Owens would you mind walking Mr. Shepard and Jagal to their carriage, I need to have a word with Mr. Strathmore."
Owens stood and quickly stepped to the door, "Gentlemen this way," said Owens as he escorted the two Poseidon executives out of Chilton House.
* * *
10:20 A.M. Chilton House, City of London
The door clicked shut as Owens, Mr. Sheppard and Mr. Jagal left the boardroom.
Sir Lester turned to Strathmore, "Your meeting with a representative of the Confederate States is closer than you know. I ran into the Grand Mechanist Hilton and he inquired about introducing me to a group of American southerners. The long and short of it is the Manchester Guild plans to meet with an envoy of southern gentlemen looking at ordinance purchases from the Guild and he wanted to provide an introduction. He said this was out of courtesy, but I know that the Mechanists will look for us to secure funding for them. I looked into this, and to Mr. Owen’s point, Her Majesty’s Government has allowed this envoy from the Southern States to meet with the Mechanist Guild and I was told they will have an audience with the foreign secretary."
“Interesting, I will take the meeting Sir Lester, could you have Healey get something scheduled in my diary with them? Something discrete, out of London,” instructed Strathmore.
He stood up turning to look at a painting of an eighteen-century ship that was owned by the firm nearly a hundred years ago.
“On the topic of meetings with Mechanists, I have an introduction for you Sir Lester. On my travels, I had occasion to meet with a Countess Corsini she wishes an introduction to a Mechanist chapter, specifically Ironmonger Bessemer's chapter in Sheffield. Her family has a novel process she wishes to license for the treatment of metals. Something she called galvanic metallurgy; a nephew of hers was an apprentice to Volta and a bit of a genius,” said Strathmore.
“Have you seen this invention?” asked Chilton.
Strathmore smiled as he let out a scoffing sound, “Sir Lester, I could not give a shit about the nephews’ scientific prowess, I am looking to land a whale here. Countess Corsini has a fortune, and I mean to pry it away from the Venetian bankers her family has worked with for five hundred years.”
“Sometimes Randal I wonder if you are as much a huckster as that Barnum fellow running around London with the midgets and singers?”
“Sir Lester, I plan to meet with Mr. Barnum upon my return to America, and if I have my way, he and his whole freak show will have accounts with Chilton Company. I may even ask him for some guidance on promoting our firm,” asserted Strathmore.
“This is what happens when you make an American a partner in your business. I don’t know what Owens and my father were thinking.” Once Sir Lester laughed Randal joined in, “I would be delighted to meet with your Countess Corsini,” finished Lester.
“Excellent, I’ll give the details to Healey. I suggest entertaining her at your home.”
“Should I have Hilton and Bessemer there?”
“Maybe not Hilton but having Bessemer and his chapter cronies is imperative. Let me prepare you, however, the Countess is like no other woman and you ought to be ready for her liberalism and modernity,” finished Strathmore.
5
Wednesday the 17th of April, 1861
10:30 A.M. Gilchrist Manor, England
Preston stood at the edge of the garden letting the warm sun beat on his face. He just let it all sink in - the birds chirping, the leaves rustling and the silence of his mind. It had been only a few weeks since Angelica removed Azul from his body. Lorelei brought him back to Gilchrist manor to convalesce. Two days ago, he felt strong enough to get out of bed and move around.
As he enjoyed the peace he could hear voices, not in his head but in the garden. It was his father Lord Gilchrist and some other men. He closed up his robe and walked through the garden following the gravel path into the boxwood hedge maze. He expected to find his father and his guests at the Olmec stone his father had brought back from his last expedition. As he strolled, he listened intently to make out the voices and the topic of conversation.
“Lord Gilchrist, there is so much more to uncover in the ruins we found,” it was a Swedish intoned voice and had to be Professor Erik Göteborg, who traveled with Lord Gilchrist into the depths of the Central American jungle to find the lost Olmec City.
“Sir, this will be your shining moment. You can lead a larger team and conduct extensive excavations. I already have sponsorship commitments based on your leadership of the expedition,” said Lord Wells the current chairman of the Royal Geological Society.
Preston stopped to hear his father’s reply. His whole life was filled with long absences, then when his father did return he was forced to share him with London society as the celebrity who enlivened parties talking of his adventures in the most exotic places. The last being the jungles of Central America where he found a lost city.
The three men were standing around the prize artifact from the expedition situated in the middle of the garden. A ten-foot diameter stone covered in concentric circles of pictograms. The huge volcanic rock had been removed from atop of a pyramid and brought all the way back to England.
“Lord Wells, this part of my life is finished. I have had my fill of adventure, diseases, leaches, mosquitos, and living on the flesh of our last pack mule. These last few days have reminded me that while you see me as a success, I am not. I am an abject failure as a father and a husband. While I frolicked, chasing the ghosts of the past I have lost almost everything, even my namesake,” said Lord Gilchrist. Preston paused and took in his father’s words. He had never heard him talk that way before.
“I understand your position Lord Gilchrist. I tried my best to get you back sooner and Göteborg here is my witness,” said Lord Wells.
“That only leaves the matter of the stone,” stated Göteborg.
“What matter is that?” asked Lord Gilchrist.
“Lord Gilchrist, there have been discussions at the Society on how artifacts are being managed, concerns have been raised about this stone and its location in private hands,” said Lord Wells.
Preston stepped around the hedge to watch his father. He was glaring at Lord Wells.
“I have specific concerns about the stone, certainly more so seeing that you have chosen to leave it outside exposed to the elements,” said Göteborg.
“Did you forget where we found the stone Göteborg? Outside, atop a stone ziggurat. For all we know it has been amongst the elements for at least a millennium,” challenged Lord Gilchrist.
“Your Lordship, you have made it clear that you have no interest in the mysteries of the Olmec. This is not a garden decoration it is a historical artifact that belongs in the care of historians,” pushed Göteborg.
“Göteborg, you’re here because I led an expedition to find that city. It was my research that brought its existence to the attention of modern society. It was me who led us into that jungle and back out alive and by the way, with this stone.”
“A folly I may add that almost cost us all our lives. Hundreds of leagues from civilization and our party leader decides to roll a giant stone out of the jungles” retorted Göteborg.
“And now you want to roll it to London to show it off” replied Lord Gilchrist both men were looking to Lord Wells to take a side.
“It will be a pleasure to be in the jungles this time without you, Lord Gilchrist. I will be spared just this stubbornness. Your decisions are always from a position of self-interest,” said Göteborg.
�
�Professor Göteborg, really now,” admonished Lord Wells he then turned to the Senior Gilchrist, “Lord Gilchrist, if placed in London, the stone would be available for all to see and in the hands of the most knowledgeable researchers to decipher the inscriptions. Your notoriety will increase as the leader of the expedition that brought this magnificent artifact from a significant ancient city to the greatest modern city.”
Preston was impressed, Wells knew how to appeal to his father. “Who do you have that can decipher that stone?” said Preston out loud.
“Ah Mr. Gilchrist how good it is to see you,” replied Lord Wells.
“Preston, please join us, this is Professor Erik Göteborg. He was my second on our expedition that recovered this stone,” The Senior Gilchrist said as he moved toward Preston.
Preston walked to the men. The gravel jabbed at the bottom of his feet forcing him look down at his maroon satin bedroom slippers. He was reminded of his unsuitable attire of the bedclothes and robe. He gave both men a firm handshake, “My apologies for my informal garments, I am on the mend from a chronic condition that I am quite happy to inform you has been resolved.”
“Excellent news, sir,” said Lord Wells.
“We were just discussing with your father the benefit of having the calendar stone in London to exhibit,” said Göteborg.
Preston turned to the Swed, “So the hypothesis is that the stone is a Calendar?”
“Yes, based on where we found the stone and the three rings with glyphs repeating. It is most likely a calendar or astrological chart,” Göteborg conjectured, as he moved his hand across a ring of pictograms on the stone surface.
“You can’t be serious Göteborg, you’re saying these ancient Indians had some type of date system?” questioned Lord Wells.
“Indeed, this society was quite advanced and if this stone is over one thousand years old, more advanced than most primitive cultures; certainly not anywhere near where we were in Europe at the time,” replied Göteborg.
Preston walked up to the stone. “I suggest that your hypothesis is flawed and that you don’t grasp the significance of this find,” said Preston.
“May you share your credentials, sir? I am not aware of your work in this field or where your degree in historical studies was granted,” asked Göteborg.
“I expect that in your mind my theory lacks merit because I have no degree or that you haven’t read papers published under my name at your beloved Societies. Your theory is sound and your skepticism of me expected. More so your theory is simple and safe, opposed to mine that will shake the foundations of European history and thinking. You see Professor, these markings are almost identical to ones I observed on an object called the Emerald Tablet, what Sir Issac Newton referred to as the Philosopher’s Stone. The same object held by the Alchemist Guild and the source of many of its secrets. That stone we know dates back to three hundred BC. I have not deciphered the pictograms, but I can tell you that there is an affinity to other Mesoamerican writing systems, Mayan and Aztec, I expect this one predates them both.
“And you read these languages?” asked Lord Wells.
“Please follow me, gentlemen,” Preston responded, leading the three men back to the house.
“Your Lordship, I am one of the few who can decipher these lost tongues. To answer the Professor’s standing question as to my credentials, there is no University that has the knowledge that I possess.” The men entered the house and walked down the halls towards the library. “There is no other expert as capable in this field, nor any other location with the resources to translate that stone,” Preston threw open the door to his library and let the size and scope of the room and the books held in it sink in.
“Lord Gilchrist, is this your library?” Göteborg asked, stunned, looking up.
“No this is my son’s collection.”
“This is why I ask you, Lord Wells, to keep the stone here for me to complete my research. I will present to your Society that this stone and the Philosophers Stone hold evidence that two ancient civilizations, tens of thousands of miles apart, were either in contact with each other or contacted by the same beings,” said Preston.
“That is preposterous,” bellowed Göteborg.
“Maybe, but my ability to decipher the stone isn’t. If I am wrong I will admit it and happily tell you what the stone says. Either way, it seems far more foolish to me to go trouncing back into the jungle without first knowing what the artifact says. Won’t you be better prepared with that knowledge?” asked Preston.
“We have taken too much of your time, Lord Gilchrist. I think your son deserves a chance to explore his theories,” Lord Wells turned to Preston, “We have fundraising to do, and your father has dazzled our members before with proof of what seemed at first wild tales. So, Preston, you take the time to delve into the stone’s mysteries,” Lord Wells began to walk out of the room. “Come Professor Göteborg, leave these two to do their research, I suspect if young Gilchrist is right the elder will not be able to resist an expedition to validate his son’s findings.”
Preston stood in the center of the library as the three men exited. In the hallway, his father handed off the visitors to Brentwood then returned to Preston.
“You certainly put Göteborg in his place, but there was no need to take such a stand about keeping the stone here. Frankly, they can have it. I am done adventuring. I was selfish and put my vanity before this house; you and your mother both suffered. I was in Africa when she passed and was off with my pursuits while you deteriorated. I all but abandoned you. I am sorry,” Lord Gilchrist expressed tenderly.
This was everything that Preston always wanted to hear from his father. He was a young boy when his father left for an expedition and his mother died during complications in her pregnancy. He felt awkward after the comment seeing his father vulnerable, “Sir, to hear you say that means so much. I came down this morning to discuss an invitation to visit Baron and Baroness von Traube and my intentions to ask Lorelei to be my wife,” said Preston.
Lord Gilchrist hugged his son. Preston couldn’t remember when he had been embraced like this. He enjoyed the gesture then winced as his father yelled next to his ear, still hugging him, “Brentwood bring some champagne, we have cause to celebrate!”
Preston eased away, “Let’s hold off on the celebratory drink, first I must get Lorelei to accept and we have a bigger issue at hand,” Preston voiced while fixing his robe. He looked up to meet his father’s confused eyes. Then he continued, “What I said out there isn’t hokum. That stone’s symbology resembles what I saw on fragments of the emerald tablet. That tablet was crafted in Persia in the third century BC, for the purpose of holding an ancient being. I fear this stone serves a similar purpose.”
6
Thursday the 18th of April, 1861
9:00 A.M. mechanist Guild Proving Grounds, Manchester, England
“Gentlemen, it is our esteemed pleasure to welcome you to the Manchester proving ground. Here we created the most stringent tests to assure that our creations deliver upon our promise to Her Majesty’s troops, delivering only the best equipment to defend the empire. Today you will witness how modernity has changed the face of the battlefield ushering in a new age.
What you see before you is not the work of one man, but the collaboration of the greatest minds here in Manchester. Sitting within Mechanist Reynolds Mobil fortress turret is Mechanist Whitworth’s 12-pound breach loading rifle,” announced the Manchester Chapter House Chairman, William Cawley.
Nathan Lee Moss looked from his seat in the grand stand past the rotund Mechanist at The Mobile Field Fortress. From the outside it looked formidable, an iron cylinder set atop a rectangular body. Jutting out of the body were six legs. It reminded him of the crabs they would catch in the estuaries of Savannah tidal basin, only with a four-inch gun sticking out of the top. Behind the turret a tall smoke stack churned out a black cloud. Nathan’s thoughts went to how the plume of coal smoke would give away the machines’ position; likely th
e machine designer had never seen combat.
Moss and his fellow commissioners Henry Hotze, William Yancey, James Murray Mason, were sent on behalf of the newly formed Confederate States of America to take the temperature of the European governments on the secession. The mission changed slightly when the wire types came over that Fort Sumter had fallen last week. With the hostilities started, his group was advised to explore sourcing funds and munitions from any government that would show favor to the cause.
“I would like to invite one of the Commissioners to experience this momentous event not from the grandstands but instead from inside the belly of the beast,” said Mechanist Cawley with a hand gesture towards the machine. Moss stood up and began walking down the steps toward the proving grounds.
“Mr. Moss, you have nothing to concern yourself with I assure you,” said Cawley in a hushed tone before raising his voice, “Your Mr. Moss will ride into staged battle to show the durability and versatility of our mobile fortress. You will witness with your own eyes how its thick armor and maneuverability allow it to stride the battlefield to take and hold strategic positions under withering gunfire. Yes, gentleman you will witness live ammunition being tested against the mobile fortress.”