Cassidy St. Claire and The Fountain of Youth Parts I, II, & III

by A. H. Rousseau

  Cassidy maintained her suspicious stare as she walked into the room. “Alright,” she said. “Well, I suppose, welcome to my home. How can I help you?”

  “Thank you very much, Miss. St. Claire. Hopefully, we can help each other. For reasons that I will explain, we came to see you almost immediately upon our arrival. Coming here, we initially hoped to achieve little more than confirm your good health, but were greeted at the door by a rather odoriferous and unkempt man who claimed to live here. Before we could say much, he saw us to your office.”

  “Oh. Yeah. That's Quentin, my house bum.”

  The two men paused for a moment in contemplation. “You... have a house bum?” asked older man.

  Cassidy spoke as she walked behind her desk and sat down. “Yes. He casts votes for me in elections, I pay for his degenerate lifestyle. It works beautifully.”

  “Ah. Yes. Of course,” said The Secretary.

  “I'm sorry. I don't mean to interrupt,” said Gideon. “But how did you get here so quickly? I sent my telegram to you twelve hours ago.”

  “We were already here when you sent this telegram. I have, in fact, never seen it. Nor do I much need to now,” said The Secretary.

  “Why wasn't I informed of your arrival?”

  “That will be discussed shortly.”

  “So why are you here Mr. Secretary,” asked Gideon, concerned. “Do you not think me handling the case effectively?”

  “Good lord no. You are an excellent agent, Mr. Atwater — an excellent agent,” the Secretary sat back down, as did his associate. “It's just that more information has become available to us that demanded our attention. This in no way reflects upon you. So please. Calm yourself. Sit. I think a conference between all of us is critical.” Gideon grabbed a chair and moved it over to the side of Cassidy's desk. The Secretary turned to face Cassidy. “I apologize for not doing this sooner. My name is Jebediah Ames. I, as I'm sure you have deduced, am the Secretary of Intelligence for the United States Government. This is my associate and right-hand-man, Roger Harker.”

  “Well it is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Ames, Mr. Harker. My name is, as you apparently already know, Cassidy St. Claire.” As Cassidy spoke, Margie walked in to the office. “And this lovely woman walking in is effectively my mother, Margie Flynn.”

  “Oh lord, I didn't realize we had so many guests. Would anyone like tea or water?” asked Margie.

  The three agents all looked at each other in a brief moment of confusion. “Um, if you are making some, I would very much enjoy tea,” said Jebediah with an easy smile, looking directly into Margie's eyes.

  Margie returned a broad smile. “Mr...?”

  “Jebediah Ames, ma'am.”

  “Mr. Ames, I would make you tea any time. And you two?” she asked, looking at Gideon and Roger.

  “Water for me, and thank you,” said Gideon.

  “The same,” said Roger.

  “Excellent, I'll be right back,” said Margie. As she walked out of the room, she made eye contact with Cassidy, made a coquettish face, and then looked at Jebediah, who was facing Cassidy. Cassidy made a face of feigned disgust as Margie left the room smiling.

  “Now, with the pleasantries out of the way, why are you here?” asked Cassidy, leaning back in her chair.

  Jebediah sat silent for a moment, collecting his thoughts. “There are many things to discuss, so I will try to organize them into something manageable. The primary reason for our arrival is that our intelligence over the past few weeks has been filled with references to you and your company. At first, we didn't pay it much mind, since our intel produces hundreds of leads, the majority of which are duds. But the frequency of the references reached a point where it was apparent something big was going to happen.”

  “Well Mr. Ames, I'm sorry to say that you're a bit late. The big thing did happen. A train of mine was robbed about a week ago and a number of valuable items were stolen. The antics over the past week that you've probably caught wind of were my efforts at getting it back.”

  “We are aware of that, but think that something is still in the pipe, as it were,” replied Jebediah.

  “How so?” asked Cassidy.

  Jebediah looked to his associate, “Roger?”

  Roger Harker leaned forward in his seat to address Cassidy and spoke in a tone of voice so snooty as to border on parody. “Your train robbery happened seven days ago and was actually a somewhat impromptu thing. Their initial plan had been to steal your property in Los Angeles but something prevented them from doing it. We don't know what. Our most recent bit of intelligence comes from just three days ago. Again, few details, but your name, not merely your company, kept appearing. Because of where the information was acquired, we are confident that it has to do with mechanical technology that you are developing. I can appreciate a desire to keep your work secret, but is there anything that you can tell us about your current investments? Anything at all.”

  Cassidy's eyes moved about as she thought. “... No... Nothing. Most of the stuff that we are working on is either already patented or not particularly impressive. I'm not exaggerating when I say that they got what we were hiding.”

  Jebediah remained relaxed in his seat as he spoke. “Please. I don't mean to pry, but anything that may be even slightly of interest, even if you don't think it so.”

  Cassidy held her hand to her mouth as she thought. “Um, some explosive rounds... a high-caliber hand gun... a new type of metal plating. A shoulder-mounted cannon that damn-near kills anyone who tries to use it.”

  Roger sat back in his seat as he and Jebediah thought. “You're right. Nothing much,” said Roger.

  “I'm sorry that I can't be of more help in that regard, but for whatever worth it was I would like some information reciprocated.”

  Jebediah and Gideon glanced at each other briefly before Jebediah turned back to Cassidy. “Of course. We're here for a dialog, after all. What would you like to know?”

  “Well, first off, who are we dealing with? I've seen some crazy shit over the course of the past week, and your presence here seems to indicate the significant magnitude of our foe. Who are they?” Cassidy said, rocking side to side ever so slightly in her chair.

  “In all honesty,” began Jebediah, “we're not sure. For awhile, we thought it was Britain. Then we thought it was Germany. Now we are left with everything unknown. Whoever our enemy is, they are large, organized, advanced, and, seemingly, everywhere.”

  “I knew all of that. I've been dealing with that. Tell me something I don't know.”

  Jebediah stared at Cassidy, analyzing her. Cassidy stared right back, unblinking. “The professors are only two of many—“

  “Jebediah,” interrupted Roger in a low voice.

  “She's not some mere citizen, Roger. We need to make a show of good faith.” Jebediah turned back to Cassidy. “Someone is going around the country kidnapping preeminent researchers in the fields of biology, mechanics, physics... you get the picture. Our attention was only brought to this when one of those professors just happened to be doing work for us. Someone is kidnapping their way to the greatest research and development institution in the world. And we are not the only ones aware of this. The world has ears, and it is always listening. Because everyone thinks that everyone else is responsible, these events are bringing relations between all of the world powers to a state of significant tension, and unless something can be uncovered, these tensions run the risk of triggering all-out conflict.”

  “That I did not know,” Cassidy said with a slight head nod.

  “That, that alarming series of events, is the reason why we are out here. Unfortunately, we realized too late as to what was happening to reach Professor Jacobson. Mr. Atwater was out here, but when we sent him, this was considered only a luke-warm lead — something significant enough to require an intelligent agent, but not something requiring the attention of the entire department. And, well... we were wrong. By the time we realize how important this or that piece of informatio
n is, it's already useless. It's as though these people are one step ahead of us at all turns. This is a game with exceptionally high stakes and we don't even have any cards.”

  “I know the feeling,” replied Cassidy.

  “No matter how good our ear to ground is, theirs is better,” said Roger. “That is why we informed almost no one of our arrival here. We desperately try to move in silence, in the hopes that we can slip past their spies. We think that this may have helped us keep some of our operations and personnel hidden, but it has done little to help us uncover theirs. So basically, we've been forced to make assumptions and then quietly act on them in an attempt to get ahead. This hasn't been going well.”

  “What kind of assumptions are we talking about?” asked Cassidy.

  “Well, currently, we're assuming that they are going after other researchers, so we are picking what we believe to be are high-risk targets and putting people on them,” replied Roger. “But the people that they are kidnapping are among hundreds. There's no way to pick out one and say, yes, this man is going to be kidnapped.”

  “We have our fair share of engineers in our company,” said Cassidy. “Could one of them be a target for kidnapping?”

  “That's what we were thinking,” said Jebediah. “All of the kidnapping has been of those who are primarily theoretical, though. Nothing real-world. They don't seem to be much interested in those designing revolvers and steam engines. But even that doesn't hold true for all known victims. There is no profile to which we can look for prediction.”

  “So. Let's move forward assuming that there is no way we can predict their actions. We can only respond.”

  “We tried that. We put out a blanket of agents in major cities all across the country. Their operations are so precise, so efficient, that they slip through. Every damned time they slip through. They are like ghosts in the night. At first, we thought there may be a traitor in our midst, but after two years of careful, internal operations, we found nothing. We are secure as can be. Whoever these people are, they really are that good. They are like a marksman who never misses.”

  “Everyone misses,” said Cassidy quietly.

  “Pardon?” asked Jebediah.

  “Alright. I'm suitably angry, but now we have to figure out what we are going to do. You're here, I'm here. I've bought what you are selling. What are we supposed to do? How do we work together on this?”

  “Well, first, thank you. Most businesses are loathe to get too involved with the dealings of government unless it directly serves their interests.”

  “Oh, don't give me too much credit. This serves my interests just fine. I want revenge. I don't like being made a fool of, and it's happened twice in the past week.”

  Jebediah smiled. “Miss. St. Claire, it would be my pleasure to help you find that revenge. Now, simply lashing out will do little good. Our only resource right now is information, and you're the only lead we have that seems to be fresh, so with your permission, as at least a first step, I'd like to shake you until something falls out. We can decide how to act based on that.”

  “I would enjoy being shaken. I'm doing the same thing to my company as we speak in the hopes of finding out something of worth regarding my train robbery and my employee's murder. What kind of physical resources do you have in San Francisco?”

  “Very little. We have agents, information, lines of communication, but little hardware. As you can imagine, we are not the marines. We prefer to... operate light.”

  Cassidy nodded. “You can be too light.”

  “That is a balance that we have become exceedingly good at finding,” said Jebediah.

  “That is a balance that you think you are exceedingly good at finding,” replied Cassidy. “You don't know that you haven't the balance until everything goes to hell.”

  “Well, all I can say in response to that is that nothing has ever gone to hell for me.”

  “We've only just met. Give it time. So now that we have decided to work together, we need to determine boundaries, as in, there are none. I know what you know, you know what I know.”

  “Deal,” replied Jebediah. “And I'd rather like the trade to begin now.”

  “And so it shall,” said Cassidy.

  “Apparently, there was something removed from Jacobson's office by your men?”

  “Oh yes, a large metal horse. It's being brought here if you would like a chance to look at it.”

  “Very much so. Why did you remove it?”

  “You'll find out,” said Cassidy. “How much have you heard about the past week, specifically regarding me?”

  “Oh, yes! Only a smattering of information. Very few details,” replied Jebediah. “Now that you mention it, if you wouldn't mind, we would be very interested in hearing your story of the past week. I'm quite interested to hear about the train, the murder, everything.”

  Cassidy sighed and rubbed the back of her neck. “Where to start? Well, I guess I will pick out the most interesting stuff first. Gideon?”

  “Yes?” Gideon replied.

  “On that table over there,” Cassidy said as she pointed to a table farther into the office, covered with stacks of books. “Behind those books, wrapped in a leather cloth is the hand. Could you get it?”

  “Of course,” Gideon replied, walking over. He picked up the wrapped hand and brought it over to Jebediah.

  “That remarkable thing was removed from a man by an explosive round that I fired straight into his arm,” Cassidy said as Jebediah unwrapped the hand. “It's mechanical and technologically advanced to the point of being described as magic by my specialists. The same man who was the owner of that was traveling in a massive, flying, airship.”

  “Airship?” Jebediah said, looking up from the hand. “Describe it.”

  Before Cassidy had a chance to answer, Margie rolled in a tray of tea and water. “Drinks!” Margie said.

  “Thank you very much, Miss Flynn,” said Jebediah, accepting his cup of tea.

  “Do you take any sugar or milk, Mr. Ames?” asked Margie.

  “Jebediah, please,” he said with a smile. “And no, unadulterated.”

  “My kind of man,” said Margie. Their eyes made brief contact, followed by a tender smile, before Jebediah turned back to Cassidy.

  “Back to the machines you mentioned. Please describe them.”

  “Yeah, I'm sorry that I didn't bring them up immediately,” said Cassidy. “With all of your intelligence I just assumed that you already knew.”

  “It is perhaps a bit embarrassing, but I want to stress how incomplete our information is,” said Jebediah, sipping his tea.

  “Ok then,” said Cassidy. “Because, good God, these people have some serious toys. The robbers on the train were armed with large, polished metal guns that spun like a Gatling gun when activated and fired a deafening hail of small-caliber bullets at high velocities. We retrieved one but it was stolen out of my factory during the night of the murder. The robbers escaped in a large, roaring, metal, self-propelled vehicle. Twenty, maybe twenty-five feet long with enough space inside for multiple men. It was able to bound along uneven terrain at a high-enough speed to keep up with the train. Based on the noise and lack of steam, I'm assuming that it used some form of internal combustion engine. Do you know what that is?”

  “Well enough,” replied Jebediah.

  Cassidy continued. “Then, yesterday, I had another fun encounter with these fire-spewing carriages when one drove up next to me on the street and opened fire with a Gatling gun powerful enough to rip apart a brick wall. Also, four days ago, I traveled to Monterrey in an attempt to get some of my property back, but just as I was about to bring the guy back home, this massive, metal, flying machine — it was a goddamned flying house — blasted a hole in the side of the building and my prisoner was ripped away by a mechanical man, whose hand that was, wearing some kind of freakish mask. Two brutal injuries didn't even faze him. He just hopped up into his airship like nothing was wrong and flew off into the night.”


  Cassidy furrowed her brow. “Every time I tell this story it just seems to sound crazier. To add to the bizarre crap we've faced, yesterday, along with your man Gideon here, we discovered that Professor Jacobson had a mechanical horse with a real, honest-to-God horse heart beating inside of it.” Roger's face perked up noticeable at the mention of this. “To make a long story short, the past week has been a parade of the most advanced technology that I've ever seen being used almost exclusively to make my life a living hell.”

  “That may explain all of the references to her in the reports,” said Roger to Jebediah.

  “Perhaps,” said Jebediah.

  “That is pretty much all that I have,” Cassidy said, sipping her drink. “I'd be more than willing to sit here and discuss every detail of it, but I'm not sure which direction to go in. Those are the most salient elements of my story. Flying machines, super-guns, motorcarts... So, with all of that, where would you like me to begin?”

  “I...” Jebediah sighed. “I don't know what would do any good. You've seen more in the past week than we've seen in months. I... I don't even know where to begin.” A loud crash and clatter caused everyone in the office to jump except for Cassidy, who calmly looked out the window. Outside the window, near the front door, was a large flatbed carriage with the metal horse, gleaming in the early afternoon sun. A crowd of men gathered around the carriage as they untied the various ropes that were holding the horse down.

  “Ah. Well, the first bit of amazing stuff that you have yet to see has just arrived,” said Cassidy, leaning up from her relaxed position in her chair only slightly. “So perhaps we've found your starting point.”

  Jebediah was almost completely risen from his chair, looking over the still-seated Roger to the commotion outside. He reached inside he coat pocket and produced a pair of spectacles and put them on. “Is that the mechanical horse with the heart?”

  “The very same,” said Cassidy.