The Untold Tales of Dolly Williamson: An Occult Steampunk Thriller: Prequel to The Guild Chronicles (The Guild Chronicles: A Steampunk Fantasy Book Series 0)

by J. M. Bannon

  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 ran from bottom 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.

  Dolly 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 and 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 your 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 Dolly.

  “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.”

  Dolly 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 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 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, disecting 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 watching 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 of 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?” said 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 to 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 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 orang
e juice and his laudanum. I will bring him back. Promise," She gave him a smile an unbuttoned her tunic.

  “Thank you M’lady” Brentwood turned to leave hearing the library door unlatch, 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 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 well 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 townhouse.

  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 and peeked 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 tray, without say 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 along 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 full 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. “Look right here in Dr. Melbourne’s 'Journal of West Indies Pagan Practices and Incantations' he interviewed a Voodoo Hougan Priest that claimed to use such an apparatus to absorb the spirit out of an individual and trap it in a gourd."

  “Imagine your soul sputtering around in a gourd. How crude is that?” Preston said in an English inflection.

  Rose picked up her glass of juice and said “to keeping our souls out of gourds”

  Preston clinked her glass and took another swig. Rose followed suit.

  “What were you working on before I came in for your help?”

  A befuddled Preston followed rose’s gaze to the tomes on the floor. “Oh, that I need to get free from an Iz Hauwl labyrinth on the fourteenth astral plane I am researching how to construct the labyrinth hoping that it leads to me finding weaknesses in an existing one," Preston smiled at his own ingenuity.

  Rose directed him back to her pressing matter the object that killed Chilton “I see. Does the book there tell you what the priest does with the soul?” He looked back to Melbourne's Journal and read “soul witchery by a Hougan can either enslave the target soul or imbue it unto another. You say you found this here in London?”

  “I did. I was asked to consult on a case of a wealthy Englishman who was found dead. The body drained of all spiritual energy to the point the physical body withered and mummified.” Said reading over Preston’s shoulder to see if she could pick anything up, for once it was a book written in English.

  Voodooism is interesting because it is influenced by western religion but the manipulation of the arcane is primal, primitive, a derivative of Azande Witchcraft and like all witchcraft and shamanism rudimentary in understanding the metaphysics, but powerful in manipulating the raw energy.

  Rose sensed Preston’s intellect pushing through, “What could a witch doctor, or what did you call it a Hou..” “Hougan, it’s a Voodoo term for a high level practitioner. We can assume this person is proficient.”

  “Can you figure out what they are doing with the souls?”

  “That may be a stretch to determine the purpose. What I can say is your essence, your soul is your being beyond the me and I of the material world. It attaches to a mortal form until death. Some of us learn how to detach and return; that is projection. If you can tap into the soul of another, you can control the mortal form, transfer the spectral form, or convert the soul essence to the raw energy of the aether, there is a good description in the 'Hygromanteia', or 'The Magical Treatise of Solomon' Preston spun in his swiveled chair and grabbed a book from the shelf immediately behind where he sat “I keep a copy close at hand as it’s such a fine reference guide. He set the book down and flipped through the pages then stopped as if he had lost his train of thought. Preston looked up from the book with a bewildered look.

  “Rose what are you doing here?”
>
  “Preston?”

  “Yes… Oh dear have I been away again?”

  WEDNESDAY THE 9TH OF JUNE

  9:00 AM Chilton House

  Mr. Sims had Wire-typed Dolly that items were missing from the vault.

  Dolly returned to Chilton House with the local London sergeant. It was agreed that Dolly would take the lead on the inquiry.

  Dolly found himself in the Board Room at Chilton House again, this time interviewing each of the partners.

  At this moment attending were Mr. Sims, and the Partners Owens and Lester Chilton, Sir Francis’s eldest heir. It would be one of many interviews today to gather statements and substantiate claims.

  “In the wire-type Mr. Sims sent on June 8th it was noted that an inventory was taken of the vault and contents were missing,” began Dolly.

  “I had each partner review what contents they had in storage along with items that were in trust to the firm and kept in the partner strong room. While I could not be certain what else may be missing there was.." Lester interrupted Sims. “Get to the point man. The detective does not require your foppery he demands answers,” Dolly was thinking what the new baronet said out loud.

  Lester took over from Sims. “Twenty Thousand pounds’ sterling of gold guineas are gone. My father raised funds for the Duke of Wellington’s expedition into the Pyrenees in 1812. The Crown floated bonds to pay the troops, and we managed the syndication of the bonds. Our fee was five thousand pounds’ sterling, and a condition was that payment be in the same way as payment for the troops, gold coins. The value of the gold has increased to be worth twenty-thousand pounds at current gold prices. That is what was plundered.”