by Jim Musgrave
“We were eating the sandwiches I made, and I was pointing to the angel and telling everyone that the lily she holds in her left hand is a symbol of the water’s purity. This was very important because the years before bringing fresh water to New York were filled with devastating cholera epidemics. It was also the only statue commissioned for the park, and it was created by a woman, Emma Stebbins, which marked the first time a female had received a public art commission in the city,” Becky explained.
“A landmark in Suffragist progress!” said Bessie Mergenthaler.
“Tell ‘em what ya saw, lass. No need fer a history lesson,” said McKenzie.
“At first, I thought the fountain water was spraying mist around the circular base of the statue. As I observed more closely, I thought I could see some kind of smoke coming out of the angel’s dress. I walked over to the statue and stood directly next to the water spraying over the base. I would bet my last corset that the angel was sending out steam from her dress!” Becky held the bottom of her kimono to show from where the steam had emanated.
“She was right, O’Malley,” said Doctor Adler. “I have been inside a few of the houses of my congregants with the new steam heating systems installed, and I’ve seen the same pressure escaping from the vents.”
“That’s very astute of you, Becky. I just want to relate that I have seen this same phenomena. The first place I saw it was when I visited Superintendent Kennedy’s mansion. His front door seemed to be spraying out steam, and it closed with an observable whooshing sound. The next place I saw it was when a steam-powered carriage arrived this morning at Kennedy’s home to take him to the City Steam Works Company. What I saw and heard inside that business made be believe our pirates are establishing some kind of an infrastructure around town in the science of steam-power technology,” I explained.
“Technology? Why would they focus upon one type of technology when they can obviously travel in time to obtain any type of future technology they might want?” Doctor Adler queried.
“We need to find out why that would be so,” I explained. “What is it about steam that would be so attractive to a group that wants power?”
“They can make a great deal of money from the different steam-powered inventions. Just the steam heating installations alone would be enough to make it worth their while,” said Bessie.
“But we must remember about what I saw in 1870 and what Seth saw in his visions. They were obviously going for higher stakes by using weapons to wield their power over shipping in our harbor,” I pointed out.
“And this special power must have made the government stand back as well. What could it be?” Becky asked.
“In the Bible, Yahweh gave Moses powers over the Egyptians,” said Seth. “He sent down the ten plagues against the Egyptian people, and He allowed the Israelites to cross the Red Sea. Then he drowned the Pharaoh’s army when they tried to follow them.”
“Good point, Seth,” said Doctor Adler. “However, you can’t be inferring that this group has any influence with our Creator.”
“No. I believe we are like the Israelites. The power these pirates have is like that of the Pharaoh in Egypt. He ruled by magic and not by love. Moses loved his people so much, he wanted to save them from slavery. You said it, Doctor Adler. Knowledge without love becomes a tool for selfishness,” said Seth. The boy’s memory was remarkable.
“That is certainly good to know,” I said. “What do you all make of the midgets that keep appearing in our investigation? First, there was Kennedy’s butler. Then, there were the gun-wielding midgets that chased after Maguire. Finally, there was the supervisor at the City Steam Works. Do you believe they might be connected?”
“In Leviticus, we are instructed by God not to permit dwarves or midgets into the sacred inner temple,” said Doctor Adler. “This does not mean all dwarves or midgets are evil. This is an ancient text that probably wanted to keep the inner sanctum free from any blemish of the flesh. Once the sacred Ark of the Covenant was brought outside, all members of the congregation were then free to participate in the reading of the scriptures. The original Ark contained the Ten Commandments, and, according to some, Aaron’s rod and some manna from the wandering in the desert.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” I said. “I would wager that unless we can show any substantial proof that these midgets are doing business with the pirates, then we must not connect them. The only ones who showed aggression were in Central Park.”
“Maguire swears they was comin’ after him with guns, O’Malley. That’s a wee bit worse than pitchforks, now ain’t it?” asked McKenzie.
“Did you find any traces of steam near where Maguire said he saw the mechanical man disappear?” I asked.
“No, sir. I couldn’t find any openings anywhere near that place. I looked for two hours. I was even in the bushes. All I saw were trash and a few imbibers,” said Maguire. “I’m sorry,” he added, hanging his head.
“I still want to keep looking around that area if we can. There must be some kind of entrance or connection to the pirates there. Also, I am going to visit the office of the organization I saw imprinted upon the giant airship balloon in 1870. The World Scientific Advancement Society for Progress must be behind this entire enterprise. If I can find proof that they are beginning some kind of illegal activity, then we might be able to stop them before they use violent means,” I said.
“I have a question, Patrick, about your time travel. I forgot to ask it when you came back,” said Becky. I knew this would probably be a good question, as my Rebecca often spent a lot of time thinking about her queries before she asked them.
“By all means, my dear. What did you want to know? If I can’t answer it, then we have the two experts here who can,” I said.
“Hypothetically, what if we were able to stop Jane the Grabber from using her time travel device? Would we then be able to go into the past or into the future and prevent her from ever acquiring this device? I know we would also have to get the information from her as to the exact time and date she obtained her time travel abilities,” Becky said, moving over to my chair to place her hands around my neck. She always did this when she knew she had an interesting question to ask.
“And who do you suppose we could get who could convince her to reveal such information?” I stroked her right hand with mine.
“If the time comes, then I would be your woman, O’Malley,” said Becky.
“That is certainly good to know. What else is on your minds, my little group? Speak up. Tomorrow we shall be probing this city in earnest. Any other personal theories or possibilities you might want to speculate upon?” I knew this was becoming a bit of a bombastic session, but I am of the mind that more ideas are better than few.
“I did not want to say this, but I believe you do not have the credentials to get the information you need from that society you are visiting tomorrow,” said Bessie. Her dark eyebrows furrowed. “What you need is somebody with you who knows how our upper classes think. I would like to go with you,” she added.
I never thought of how I would investigate the Society, but what Bessie was saying was quite proper. I was from the lower classes in Five Points. Although a German Jewish immigrant, she did have connections within the wealthy community of New York City. Her husband had been the richest industrialist and inventor in America at the time he was kidnapped. She knew how to solicit these people also.
“All right. Bessie, you will come with me tomorrow. However, now that we will be a pair, how do you suppose we might play our roles? Perhaps I can change disguises to become Professor Winston Graham from Oxford. I had a lot of practice learning that role from the Columbia University visiting professor you introduced me to last year. What role would you play, Bessie?” I asked.
“Yes. Well, since you have all frequently bestowed upon me the honor of Queen Victoria, then perhaps I could be a woman from the Queen’s Court? I think I should be the Dowager Lady Churchill, or Jane. She is the daughter of the second Marquis of
Conyngham, and granddaughter of the first Marquis. She was a favorite of King George IV. In 1849 she married the second Baron Churchill, Prince of the Holy Roman Empire. In 1854 Lady Churchill was appointed Lady of the Bedchamber to the Queen and has held that office ever since,” said Bessie, who knew the royal family like no woman I had ever met.
“My! Prince of the Holy Roman Empire. What would your rabbi think?” I asked, and I heard Doctor Adler chuckle.
“Not only that, good sir and escort, she is also a member of the Third Class of the Royal Order of Victoria and Albert,” said Bessie, lifting up her nose to punctuate the regal tone of her voice.
“I like it!” I said. “Also, I believe we should take someone who could spy even more effectively than we. We need a person who can sleuth without being observed.”
“Me!” Seth shouted.
“Yes, you. This is your chance to show what you can do as an invisible detective. Do you have the necessary skills?” I asked him.
As if I were giving him an order, Seth disappeared. There was no puff of smoke or electric buzz. One second our four feet of eight-year-old was there, and the next second he was not.
“Seth Benjamin Mergenthaler!” Bessie called.
“He is of substance, is he not? If I were to walk over here,” I said, and I slowly glided over to where we had last seen the lad, and I began waving my arms horizontally across my chest and walking about like Mary Shelley’s monster. “Come out, come out, young Duke of Conyngham! You shall be spanked for your insolence!”
Everyone soon began to wave his or her arms and sashay across the room in the hopes of finding our ethereal target. Even mammoth Walter McKenzie, whose wide stomach moved from side-to-side as his arms swayed, began hunting for Seth. Walter resembled a hippopotamus searching for his child. Doctor Adler appeared to be performing some sort of exorcism, as his hands moved up and down in a ritual blessing gesture as he crooned in Hebrew. Becky, it would seem, might have seduced young Seth had he been two years older, as her undulating waving resembled the dance of the seven veils.
The final and uproarious laugh was upon us, as Seth appeared above, floating in the air like the angel he half was. When we all looked up to see his small form peering down at us, he was giggling to beat Bedlam, and thus we also began to laugh. It was a welcome relief from our long day of difficulties.
Afterward, when we all retired to our portions of the sanctuary, Becky wanted to tell Seth a bedtime story. She was quite good at relating fictional tales to fit the occasion, and she thought Seth would be entertained with a fantastic story from the early Mayan culture on the Yucatan Peninsula. Seth was very agreeable, and he was tucked under the covers by Bessie, and we all stood around to listen to Becky’s story.
“It is the year 1535, and we are in Quintana Roo. I am the wife of a fierce Spanish warrior who became one of the best fighters for the Mayans who ever lived. So begins my story:
I watched this slave talking to my husband, and I was not pleased. This devil is trying to make Gonzalo become one of them again and worship their gods. Quetzalcoatl the serpent lord is our god, and he gives us children, a bountiful harvest, and he makes us strong at war.
My husband is a strong and miraculous warrior. Look at his arms compared to this puny slave’s. They are speaking again, and I cannot hear them. My husband still knows this slave language, and I am ashamed he uses it in front of me.
‘Brother Aguilar, I am married and have three children, and they look on me as cacique here and captain in time of war. My face is tattooed and my ears are pierced. What would the Spaniards say about me if they saw me like this? Go and God’s blessing be with you, for you have seen how handsome these children of mine are. Please give me some of those beads you have brought to give to them, and I will tell them that my brothers have sent them from my own country.’
‘Gonzalo, you must return to Spain. How can you lose your immortal soul to this woman? I will make certain you receive a complete pardon. Can’t you see? Montejo and his men will keep returning until you are conquered! The Mayans will be defeated, and you and your family will be dead or imprisoned.’
I do not want this slave here anymore! I will tell my husband to act before I do something to him myself. ‘What is this slave doing here talking to you? Tell him to return to Hell and not to trouble us with any more words!’
Later we were alone, and my husband was telling me about the return of the devils from across the ocean. ‘I will fight them to the death for Nachan can, my Lord of Chactemal. He has given me you, and I now have a family and a good home. These invaders will never understand the ways of the Maya. I have lived with them. They worship gold, and all they want is to keep us as their slaves.’
I wanted to know why he was leaving me, night after night, to worship at the Nohoch Mul in Cobά, but a wife does not ask such things of her husband. He is the lord of the home, and we are but his servants. I vowed to myself to visit this pyramid to see what was there.
The devils from across the ocean returned after six harvests. My husband dressed in his warrior’s uniform, and his breast was covered in metal. He said it was the way the devils protected themselves, and he believed it was a good idea. The rest of his weapons were Maya. He had his giant spear, bow and arrows, and he ran barefoot like all brave members of our tribe.
‘We are fighting them to the death, Zazil Hά,’ he told me. ‘Do not come out of this hut. If I do not return, then go to the ocean and wait. I will be there to get you, or I shall send someone who will take care of you.’
He then kissed me deeply, and I felt like he would not return. I made up my mind to follow him.
I was able to keep up with him, running through the jungle like the jaguar. I was always a fast runner. My father used to chase me, and I became faster than he. My husband was with his warriors. There were over two-hundred of them, and I knew some of them by name. They would come to our village and dance under the new harvest moon, or when they would be married. Some were even chosen by the pyramid priests to take the sacrificial hearts from the chests of the slaves who were honored to be Quetzalcoatl’s food for the coming year.
I could smell the wild jasmine and cocoa beans, and the sounds of the screaming jaguar sent a shiver up my spine, but I kept running to keep up with my husband and his band of men. They were almost to the pyramid in Cobά when I heard the stampede of horses’ hooves and the clang of metal. The demons had come to attack us! I crept up to the top of a hill overlooking the valley below where the pyramid was, so I could see the battle.
There he was. My husband was on his feet, standing with his spear, ready to confront the enemy. They were all assembled near me at the top of the hill like silver beasts, with their shining helmets, their breastplates, their swords, and their flags. There were only a dozen of them on horseback, but they also had the thunder sticks that spat death-lightning to stop the hearts of the Maya warriors.
The devils ran down the hill and into the valley where my husband and his men stood. I saw one of them ride his horse at Gonzalo, and my husband took aim. His spear was raised, and as the horseman rode at him, my husband let fly the lance. It struck home before the devil could use his sword, and he fell to the soft earth of the valley floor like a carved stalk of maize.
The rest of my tribe’s warriors were being shot and beheaded. They screamed their protestations, and yet each one became food for the devils and their metal blades of hell. I saw these demons circle around and gather at the far end of the valley floor, just at the end of the pyramid. My husband was the last man standing; I watched him raise his arm, and I thought he might be saluting his enemies, but no, I was wrong.
At the top of the 136 feet of stone pyramid, a mechanical monster came grinding out of the dark intestines of the Nohoch Mul. Could it be? It was metallic and shining in the sun, and it had the shape of our serpent god! So this was what my husband had been doing on his many visits to Cobά. He had been creating a vengeful warrior machine to fight the devil invaders from acro
ss the ocean!
I watched the men across the valley as they all observed the serpent come clanging down the 120 steps. It sounded ghastly and powerful. The metal wheels and steaming nostrils of the painted serpent must have frozen their devil hearts. They were not to be deterred, it seemed, because one of them shouted something in the morning mist, and they all began to gallop toward the serpent, which was now moving, like a maniacal beast, toward them over the valley floor.
I viewed their pounding hooves kicking up dust, and they all raised their swords and guns to confront this steaming monstrosity. The flames came out of the metal serpent’s mouth, and the first man on horseback became a human torch. The second man tried to fire his rifle, but a spear came out of the same metallic, serpentine mouth and hit his metal breastplate with the speed of a diving eagle. The spear pierced the silver-plated shield and went completely through the man’s body and struck the second warrior behind him!
Then, as if the serpent were just beginning to feast on the blood of the demons, the back of the snake rose up, and Maya warriors dressed in strange attire came pouring forth. Some wore a bizarre headdress made of feathers and rubber eye covers, and they held in their hands wide guns that emitted steaming balls of fire. The balls struck the remaining attackers in their heads, and they each fell off their steeds and onto their valley graves. The power of these steam-powered balls were such that six of the men on horseback had lost their heads from the force of the blows!
All this time, my husband Gonzalo stood in the shade watching the battle. When all the attackers were dead or quivering their last breaths, he whistled once, and his serpent warriors ran across the valley floor toward him screaming praises of victory.
That is when I decided to scream also. I was standing at the top of the hill, and my voice carried down to my beloved. He looked up, saw me, and our hearts fused together in the morning’s glow, never to be divided again.”
Seth was asleep, and we all smiled down at him. Bessie folded the blanket up to his chin and kissed his cheek. One by one, we each did the same, kissing our good luck charm goodnight.