The Complete Adventures of Victoria Neaves & Romney

by Michael White

  Around the room were five soldiers, all on the floor unmoving, their faces contorted in agony. There was a slight smell of ammonia about the room but Victoria did not pay it any heed. She was looking at the box on the plinth, examining it carefully, but not touching it.

  “It’s blood locked.” said Romney.

  “Shit!” hissed Victoria. “Who to?”

  “I think you will find that it is me.” said a voice from the door, and Victoria turned to see Rupert smiling at her, a small pistol pointed at her head in his hand.

  Victoria smiled but did not move as Rupert moved inside the room, his eyes never leaving her.

  “Which society are you working for?” he asked, the gun never wavering, his eyes set on her, watching her every move. “Artisans? Demonologists?”

  “As if I would tell you.” said Victoria, her eyes locking with his. “Professionally that would be suicide.”

  “Well that will be irrelevant shortly anyway.” He pressed a brick on the wall of the tower and somewhere far below a bell began to ring urgently, barely audible from where they stood, but ringing none the less. “This room will be flooded with guards very shortly.”

  “I see.” said Victoria, and Rupert watched as her cheek twitched and as she did so a small pocket on her belt opened and there was a small puff of smoke.

  Rupert fell to the ground, the gun clattering to the floor as he did so, a small round hole now visible in the centre of his forehead, from which a small curl of smoke was rising up into the air.

  “Good shot.” said Romney, chuckling dryly to himself.

  “Indeed.” said Victoria, “Now tell me if I am wrong but blood locked means that only the hand of the one it is locked to can remove this chest.”

  “Correct.” said the demon from the amulet, chuckling to himself, “And unfortunately you just seem to have killed him.”

  “Nobody says he has to be alive.” she said, removing a small knife from the belt that expanded as she pulled it from the pocket holding it. She hunched over the figure and began to saw at the corpse. The knife was very sharp and it did not take long before he stood up holding Rupert’s hand in her own.

  “Call the skimmer!” shouted Victoria as she approached the small wooden and brass box on the plinth.

  “On it’s way.” said Romney. “Arriving up top in two minutes.”

  From somewhere down below came the sound of shouting that was quickly getting nearer.

  “I knew I should have anchored it nearer.” hissed Victoria, “Still. Should make things interesting.”

  She held Rupert’s hand over the box on the plinth and slowly lowered it onto the box, sweat trickling down her back as she did so.

  “Third circle guarding it?” she said nervously.

  “Almost certainly.” said the demon.”

  “Just move it off the top of the plinth?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay.” said Victoria, steeling herself as with Rupert's hand she pushed the box slowly to the edge of the plinth and then with a last budge pushed it off it altogether, trying to catch it with her other hand, but it landed awkwardly and the chest fell to the floor, the lid opening as it hit the ground, a small brass coloured object falling out from it. Victoria kneeled down and picked it up,

  “What is it?” asked Romney and Victoria shook her head.

  It was a small brass device, consisting of several small thin strips of circular metal running around each other in concentric circles. In the centre of the small metal cage spun a small red circle, crimson coloured yet about the size of a ball bearing. It twinkled slightly, almost like an eye that was watching her closely. Victoria counted four circles of the brass like metal but then on an impulse placed it carefully back into the chest and closed it shut.

  “I don’t think we were meant to see that.” said Victoria and she heard Romney grunt in affirmation. “What was it? A gyroscope of some sort?”

  “No idea.” said the demon. “Didn’t like the look of it much though, I can tell you that for nothing.”

  From her belt she produced a small net and wrapped it around the chest and then slung it over her shoulder and onto her back, where it seemed almost to adjust itself and lock into place, holding the small box securely there.

  “Let’s go!” she shouted, jumping up to the window she had entered by with a great leap and then crawling out through the broken glass and up onto the round tiled turret of the tower.

  The wind blew strongly now across the rooftops, and through the moonlight she saw a small zeppelin moving rapidly towards her, its turbo props spinning rapidly, a rope trailing from the device.

  “Thank the seven for automated drones.” she smiled as the voices from below grew louder and louder, and as they burst into the room and noticed the smashed window Victoria leapt from the roof, catching the rope dangling from the zeppelin easily, drifting away from the manor and into the night.

  “Operate the mist, Romney.” she said, slowly climbing the rope to the small empty cabin hanging below the drone.

  “Certainly mistress.” said the demon as a head poked out from the smashed window in the tower, and then another, the zeppelin faded into nothing and disappeared into the dark London night.

  ***

  “The State of Nations”

  “With the race for technology having been won by Great Britain there was a certain national interest in keeping the technology secret from anyone perceived to be a foreigner. The kingdoms of Saxony and the Archduchy of Austria were particularly voracious in attempting to steal the new found technology for themselves, but so advanced were the British by now that this was easily avoided. There were certain authorities in place to do this of course; the police and the military in particular, but these were mere amateurs in comparison to the secrecy that the professional societies held about their methods and discoveries. Outbreaks of fighting between these societies were of course not uncommon, but they were hushed up; brushed over, and rumours that a new professional society of assassins was now in existence was thought of as nothing more than a rumour. This was a mistake for the society of assassins were

  much sought after. The assassins were delighted to be paid for any sort of job that may prove embarrassing should anything go wrong and the real perpetrators were revealed. This problem did not exist with the society or association of assassins because officially they did not actually exist at all. It was however commented on by several prominent figures at the time that for a society that did not exist, they did appear to be very, very busy.”

  (Taken from “Great Britain - A History”

  by William Rothschild)

  Victoria watched the city of London from the public cabin of the passenger zeppelin as it maneuvered slowly around the steeples of Whitehall, before docking with the exit tower for the city and heart of the city. Many would argue she thought that the financial quarter was the heart of the British empire, but she knew that this was not the case. It was the professional societies and politicians that ran the empire, and Whitehall was the heart of this.

  The ether driven lift descended down the landing tower to ground level and Victoria and the other passengers dispersed, Victoria heading to a nondescript building and striding inside. She ignored the reception desk and ran her thumb over a small brass plate by the lift and the door pinged open. She pressed a button inside and the lift began to move, stopping at the sixth floor.

  The doors slid open and she entered a plush office, a small desk to one side, behind which was sitting a small round faced woman with bouffant hair.

  “Hello Victoria.” said the woman with an easy smile. “Mister Smith will see you straight away.”

  “Aren’t I the lucky one?” smiled Victoria, and walking past the desk behind which the woman was sat she knocked on the large wooden door and waited.

  “Come!” came a voice from inside and Victoria turned the handle on the door and went inside.

  The office was furnished to a very high standard, the wooden walls and brass li
ghts contrasting perfectly with the deep piled red rug underfoot. There was a large desk in front of a window that looked out over the city, a huge picture of Queen Victoria on the wall lit from an ether lamp from underneath, and the picture was draped on either side by the Union Jack. Behind the desk sat a large man, a monocle in one eye, a pipe in his mouth. As Victoria entered he stood and walked around the desk, shaking her hand.

  “Good work on the Widdengham thing.” he said in an upper class voice, puffing smoke from his pipe across the room. “The society of steam workers are ruddy furious!” He laughed deeply and returned to sit behind his desk, gesturing for Victoria to take a seat in front of him. “The steel worker’s society however are singing your praises most highly for the return of the box.”

  “Thank you sir.” she said, watching him as he turned from her and looked out across the city.

  “You seem to be on a bit of a good wicket at the moment Victoria” he said without looking at her. “I have someone I would like you to meet. It was he who put us onto the retrieval of the box in the first place.”

  “I see.” she said.

  Smith turned a brass dial on his desk. “Send in Mister Prentice please...” he said and switched the dial again.

  The door opened almost immediately and a short man entered the room confidently, crossing to the desk and shaking Smith’s hand furiously.

  “Glad you could find the time to meet with me.” said the man, turning to shake Victoria’s hand too. She found his grasp weak and clammy, and was glad when he released her hand and sat down beside her.

  “Not a problem at all.” said Smith. “Victoria, this is Mister Alberney Prentice. He is a representative of Her Majesty’s Government.”

  “Charmed I am sure.” said Victoria, re-appraising the man sitting beside her. He wore a tightly striped blue pinstripe suit and small round glasses. He was almost bald and looked thin and distracted almost. His fingernails however were carefully trimmed, his small grey moustache neat and tidy.

  “Civil servant.” thought Victoria, and so was quite surprised with what he said next.

  “Are you familiar with current international politics Miss Neaves?” he said, a frown crossing his face.

  “Any particular sphere?” she asked, smiling. Prentice smiled back, but it did not reach his eyes.

  “I am thinking in particular the state of Saxony and the Archduchy of Austria.”

  “In relation to the German Empire I suspect?”

  “Indeed.” smiled Prentice, taking off his glasses, peering through the lenses and then replacing them. “I think I can ascertain that you are familiar with the desire for unification between these three countries. Such a unification is of course against the wishes of her majesty’s government.”

  “Of course.”

  “It would appear that the German Empire have been quite voracious in the their...shall we say… search for some of our most secret research. In fact, but a week ago one of our most highly thought of scientists quite simply disappeared from a locked laboratory within one of our most highly guarded compounds. To say the least this caused us quite a significant amount of inconvenience.”

  “But what has this got to do with the Germanic states?” asked Victoria.

  “Indeed. I was coming to that. One of our people placed in Germany has information that but a few days ago this scientists name was mentioned at a briefing at the highest level.”

  “Yet he has not been seen there?”

  “Not at all. Our man in Germany seemed to indicate that the Germans are just as baffled as we are.”

  “Yet where do I come into all this?” asked Victoria, and Prentice smiled, a smile almost like a slit cut across his face.

  “The box you retrieved from the society of artificers last night contained a mockup of some of the work that this scientist was working on. It was imperative that it was returned to the right society, that is the society that our missing scientist belonged to. I think you will understand that these societies can be… shall we say… competitive?”

  Smith snorted behind the desk and Prentice gave him a weak smile before continuing.

  “Her majesty’s government simply wondered now that this device has been returned to its rightful owner if you could cast an eye over the said laboratory. Any outside input would be more than welcome.”

  “Sir?” asked Victoria, getting Smith’s attention.

  “We would be delighted to accept.” said Smith.

  “Excellent.” said Prentice, “The offices he was working from are at Greenwich.” He handed Victoria a slim folder. “This is the precise address. Please report to the front desk and I shall meet you there. Nine am sharp tomorrow morning if you could.”

  “Of course. I will do all that I can to assist.” smiled Victoria, taking the folder from him.

  “Just one question.” asked Victoria as Prentice stood to leave.

  “Of course.” he smiled, straightening his what Victoria considered to be somewhat plain tie.

  “What was this scientist working on?” she asked, smiling.

  Prentice looked as if he had been struck. He pulled at his collar as if it was suddenly too tight and looked around him nervously.

  “I am afraid I am not at leave to tell you that.” he said, stammering over his words slightly. “Suffice to say it was work at the very highest level.”

  “Of course.” smiled Smith, “Of course. We understand.” He stood and guided Prentice from his office almost, arm lightly on the man's back before returning and sitting behind his desk once again.

  “Be careful Victoria.” he whispered, as if afraid of being overheard. “be very, very careful. Slippery bastard is Prentice, mark my words. Just keep your eyes open and trust nobody.”

  “Of course sir.” said Victoria. “Of course.”

  ***

  The zeppelin to Greenwich ran precisely on time, gliding over the Thames, carrying a full cabin of business people to work on the south bank of the river. Upon docking with the platform Victoria took the lift down to street level and after asking a policeman for directions made her way to the rather austere looking building that she had in Prentice’s note. Upon reporting to the anonymous looking reception desk the woman behind the desk made a quick phone call and then asked her to sit which she did.

  “Romney.” said Victoria in her mind, “Switch to non-vocal mode. I don’t want Mister Prentice to hear us talking.”

  “No problem boss.” said her third circle demon in her mind.

  “Thanks.” thought Victoria, smiling at the receptionist sweetly.

  Prentice appeared a few minutes later through a set of double doors behind the reception desk and shook Victoria’s hand vigorously.

  “Thank you so much for coming.” he smiled. “Please follow me.” and holding the door open for her he guided her into the corridor that lay beyond.

  To Victoria it seemed quite a busy place, a contrast to the solemn reception area. Some of the men working there were in suits, as was Prentice, but some wore long white coats as well. There certainly seemed to be quite a mix. She followed Prentice along the corridor at a brisk pace until they reached a lift, the doors of which swished open as they arrived and the man ushered her inside pressing the very bottom button, and the lift began to descend.

  They stood in silence as the lift descended, which it seems to do for quite some time. After a minute Victoria could not hold her curiosity in check any longer.

  “Quite a descent.” she smiled and Prentice nodded.

  “The work Mister Randolph was working on was very hush hush. The further down we go the more secret the research I think you will find.”

  “And you pressed the bottom button.” smiled Victoria. To her amusement Prentice actually looked embarrassed.

  “I did indeed.” he managed eventually.

  “Excellent.” said Victoria. “I really do enjoy intrigue and a mystery.”

  “Quite so.” smiled Prentice, obviously not agreeing with her. “Quite so.” />
  Eventually the lift stopped and the doors opened onto a brightly lit metal lined corridor which ended no more than twenty feet ahead of them, frosted glass double doors barring whatever lay beyond. Two armed soldiers stood in front of the doors looking at them suspiciously as they left the lift. Prentice produced a small card and showed it to the two men however and they moved aside, holding the door open for them. Victoria was quite surprised as she entered a large chamber, the centre of which was a huge round wall of glass that ran in a circular fashion inside the cavern in which they found themselves.

  “Looks like a bloody big goldfish bowl.” Chuckled Romney in her mind and she bit down sharply on her lip to stifle a giggle, for that was precisely what it resembled.

  Inside the glass bowl was an office of some sort, and as they approached it Victoria saw that there was a small metallic walkway that ran around the circular glass room. There appeared to be no other exits from the cavernous room at all.

  “All very impressive.” smiled Victoria and Prentice returned a tight lipped smile. “Is it a quarantine?”

  “I beg your pardon?” said Prentice as Victoria looked inside the office. It also has one single door that seemed to be hermetically sealed, the only evidence of it actually being a door at all being a small round door handle.

  “A sealed chamber.” said Victoria. “I have seen the like before, though nothing on this scale, in experiments regarding gases and the like.”

  “Nothing like that at all.” sniffed Prentice. “You must understand Miss Neaves that I cannot tell you what Mister Randolph was working on. Not at all. But I will say that it was not gas or the like. The globe is triple sealed. It may look especially transparent, but the vessel’s walls are two feet thick. It is glass because we wanted to be able to contain but also observe everything that happened in the sphere during the conduct of the experiment.”