The Untold Tales of Dolly Williamson

by JM Bannon

  “Your Grace, may I speak freely?”

  “Go on.” The Duke needed updated information on the progress, even if he had to listen to the engineer whine about his staff, materials and working conditions.

  “While my engineers and technicians have the plans, we still need time to grasp the technology of the mechanists. I am informed daily that we require more documentation to unravel the complexities of a subassembly. That confounds us because we do not comprehend the process they use to craft a specific part. I know it pains you to hear it, but this is the most sophisticated airship ever to be built, and we need more time. Before we lay the hull, we need to understand the metallurgy process. For the ship to fly ,we need to master the design of the solar and stellar-scopic registers that drive navigation.”

  “What can I provide to make this project meet my schedule?” asked the Duke.

  “I need a proper mechanist team and industrialist leaders such as Bessemer, Whitworth and Clooney. Likely I require intelligence from each of them,” demanded the engineer.

  “I will be back in one week’s time, Deiter. I want your plan to have a keel laid by winter,” demanded the Duke.

  “May I make a suggestion, Your Grace?” asked the engineer. He wanted to provide solutions, not cry about poor resources.

  “If it moves our plan forward, I will hear it. If it’s more excuses, then keep it to yourself.” Gorber was at the mercy of the Prussian engineers but did not want to show that weakness.

  “If we were to follow these plans and build a replica of the British ship, it would be obvious that we have spies in the London works. Instead, my engineers can take the innovations and integrate them into Prussian designs. In fact, some of these concepts could be retrofitted to naval ships and ground artillery immediately,” The engineer knew he had to deliver some progress given the risks taken to secure design drawings of the HMS Victoria.

  The Duke was intrigued. “Continue.”

  “For example, we have the specification for Professor Honeysuckle’s flexible armor. One of my engineers postulated that we could line the interior of our dirigibles an immediate improvement to the existing fleet,” followed the Engineer.

  “Deiter, strike my request. Upon my return, I want you to have a list of the upgrades and time frame for the implementation of the items you suggest.” The Duke could use this idea to show progress. The Engineer did have a point that a duplicate of the dreadnought would leave no doubt there had been espionage.

  “Affirmative, Your Grace.”

  The Duke left the factory located on the outskirts of Königsberg and returned to the city center to report to Prince von Bismarck. As the Minister for Internal Affairs, Duke Gorber’s title was an innocuous term for his real purpose as the head of the Prussian spy service.

  Operation Braunbär was the Duke’s critical plot, essential for the game at hand of the Minister President of Prussia Otto von Bismarck.

  Duke Gorber entered the Minister President’s office. Kiefer, the High Elector Guild Baron of the Alchemists, was seated having a coffee with von Bismarck.

  “Guild Baron, Minister President.” The Duke greeted the two gentlemen with a curt bow and click of his heels.

  “Have a seat, Gorber. May I call for a coffee or other refreshment for you?” queried Minister President von Bismarck.

  “A brandy, sir. We should all have a brandy to celebrate the success of our operations in the British Empire,” suggested the Duke.

  “Very well. While we await the bottle, let’s begin with a briefing on the home front. What can you report from the palace?” inquired von Bismarck as he walked to the door of his office and opened it. “Hans, bring three glasses and a bottle of brandy.”

  When Gorber knew he had the attention of Bismarck again he began. “The King’s health continues to deteriorate. While none of the doctors have openly speculated on the King’s demise, it appears there is little chance of him recovering from this stroke,” replied the spy master.

  “Very well. Do you have a summary on the Prince Regent?

  “Not now.”

  “How about our Danish friends?”

  “Nothing more than you read in the papers, I am afraid. The Danes are sensitive to our disputes to the hereditary claims on the two duchies.”

  A steward knocked at the door carrying a tray. “Excellent timing,” said Gorber. “Pour the Minister President and Guild Baron a snifter, for we toast the success of our agents and the illustrious alchemists of Prussia.” The men touched glasses and drank. “The Guild Baron and I are keen to be updated on the results of Braunbär.” von Bismarck inquired.

  “My agent in Scotland Yard has confirmed that the police are looking for saboteurs and do not believe the bombing was instigated by home-grown revolutionaries That being said, they suspect the subversives to be French, not Prussian,” offered Gorber.

  “What of the designs, Duke Gorber? I blew up my plant for your charade. Was it worth it?”

  “Operation Braunbär was a success because of the sacrifice you made for the unification of Germany, Guild Baron. First, there is now a plausible reason for you to delay the supply of LQ to the British. Next, the explosion allowed us to destroy the drafting and records building to cover for the documents our agent stole. We have detailed plans of the Victoria to design counter measures to the warship. In addition, we have uncovered hundreds of innovations we can begin to include in the design of current and future airships and artillery,” gloated Gorber.

  “Minister President, it would mean a great deal to the guild if any of these innovations could be incorporated into our processes,” added the Guild Baron.

  “Minister President, I will need to conduct further operations on British soil to obtain additional industrial secrets. Some of what we have learned from the documents indicate other novel approaches in metallurgy and precision machining are needed to master and build at the level of Queen Victoria’s mechanists,” the Duke advised.

  “We cannot rely on royal bonds of matrimony to secure alliances nor depend on those affiliations for our security. For decades, our borders have been subject to the whims of the French, the Russians and a pack of squabbling Germanic dukes. No offense meant to the present company,” articulated von Bismarck.

  “None taken,” replied Gorber.

  “Prussia will lead the Germanic people to a unified German Empire that will rival the French Russian and British monarchies. This empire will be fueled by alchemies of our most prestigious guild and finally bring peace to our people. No longer will our lands be trodden on by foreign invaders,” von Bismarck declared.

  Duke Gorber had no reason to doubt the Minster’s mettle to make his vision a reality.

  Tuesday the 29th of June

  11:00 AM, Necronist Guild House, Ile de la Cité Paris, France

  Guild Master Saint-Yves reached the shores of France with Moreau by his side and Thomas in a coffin in the hold of the ship. He’d made his way to the headquarters of the necronists and had been resting there for several days. He remained within the walls of the compound until he was certain that the French and English had settled any issues connected to Angelica’s death. Of those that passed on Saturday, he still grieved the fall of Angelica the most. Thomas was devoted, but he was impetuous in stabbing Angelica and the necronist guild had its stock of rash zealots. Then there was Oswald, who Gerard knew for only a few hours, and there again he did not follow Gerard’s aim to subdue Angelica, and for that he surrendered his life. There would be no further talk of the mission today for soon the Emperor would visit the guild hall. The necronist guild house ironically sat next to the Cathedral of Notre Dame on the Ile de la Cité, the site of a medieval hospital. The land stretched from Notre Dame all the way to the Seine. More than a house, it was a compound with multiple interconnected buildings and deep sub-levels that many of the guild did not rank high enough to enter. The site had been a donation to the necronist guild from the Emperor himself on the day of his coronation.

  The
necronists viewed themselves as savants of metaphysics seeking to define the science of the spirit. The Church saw his brother's exploration into the afterworld as heretical and counter to the beliefs and teachings of the Church. If it were not for the events that took place on Napoleon Bonaparte’s expedition to Egypt and the work of one young necronist in particular, the guild may have become a footnote in occult history.

  The accepted reason for Napoleon’s expedition to Egypt and Syria fifty-nine years earlier was to establish France’s leadership in Egyptology, but it was more to exert influence in the failing Ottoman Empire. General Napoleon sought to offset the expanding influences of England and the Russian Empire by leading a French scientific expedition with a military contingent for protection; the mission would show his ability to project a force into the Middle East. The research detachment included a metaphysicist and guild member, Sebastian Crocus, to lead the group that found the Rosetta Stone. The tablets provided the key to deciphering hieroglyphics and allowed for the origin of Egyptology through the translation of the symbols to ancient Greek and eventually to all other languages.

  Another discovery was made in the royal tombs, the Oraculum, stones scriptures that allowed for decoding messages from the ancient oracle. The necronist seer translated the tablets and instructed the general on the uses of the Oraculum. Napoleon consulted his translated version for every significant political decision, finding it to be indispensabl., It was the secret behind what the world perceived as military genius.

  While the expedition devoted most of its resources to collecting antiquities and detailing the history of the ancient Egyptians, it was the Necronist Crocus who used the Rosetta stone to unravel the mysteries of the Egyptian priests and the experiments they were conducting to open and close gateways into the afterlife. These discoveries became the basis for the two areas of study in the necronist guild: divination and rejuvenation.

  Ultimately, the guild became competent in prophecy through its research of the Oraculum and other works of antiquity. It was during a séance that the guild seers traced a thread of the future where Napoleon took Moscow but lost his army, not through conflict with the Russian Empire but by the savagery of the weather and desolate land conditions. The Grand Army never left Poland, held back by Bonaparte’s obeying the warning of his spiritual advisor and confirmation by his own divination from the Oraculum. From that point, the fates of the necronists, France and Napoleon Bonaparte were inextricably linked.

  Gerard was snapped out of his daydreaming by the appearance of Emperor Napoleon’s entourage arriving at the necronist guild house. He was still depleted from Angelica’s assault, but his presence was required when the dictator came to visit. The special detail of imperial guardsman rode on horseback, entering the courtyard then taking position to protect the area. The rest of the guard deployed around the perimeter of the necronist campus. Two steam carriages entered the gates of the campus. The first carried Dr. Phila, Gold Seer, Napoleon’s personal surgeon.

  The second car, an imperial carriage, pulled up in front of the large double-doored entrance to the guild house. An imperial guard stood waiting at the ready and opened the door for the Emperor of France, who in the next year would celebrate his ninetieth birthday.

  Dr. Phila made haste to reach the entrance before the Emperor exited his car to speak to his brethren. “Master Crocus, why wasn’t I given more notice? I appear a fool to his majesty as I have no reason to insist he receive another treatment so soon.”

  High Guild Master Crocus was in the courtyard along with his assistants to meet the Emperor.

  “Saint-Yves has made an impressive acquisition, and we decided it would please his Highness to receive this new medium directly,” Crocus instructed under his breath.

  Napoleon stepped up to the wyrding of necronists.

  “How well you look, Your Majesty,” crooned Crocus.

  “Sebastian,” acknowledged the Emperor. The two men looked at each other with genuine affection and exchanged a handshake that was almost a hug. No one else had this relationship with the sovereign of France. A cursory observer would guess that Sebastian was twenty years the senior to the Emperor, yet he was ten years younger. Crocus was prudent in his use of revitalization. He did not fear death like his monarch did.

  The assembly made their way through the verdant garden. The blossoms were in full bloom. A placid summer day, it was a serene yet contrasting scene: the pleasant trickling of the fountain maintained by necronist novices dressed in black cloaks appeared to be in mourning of a loved one, not gardening. The inner forum served as a transition from the outside to the interior of the administration building among remnants from the medieval hospital built by the Church. Savants and followers of the most powerful guild in France lingered at the entrance. The huge doors were open, letting the warm summer air mix with the cool interior atmosphere of the stone building. The large cast iron doors were covered in vignettes of the cult’s history. The party’s pace was deliberate, traveling through the solemn gothic hallways to the verticulator that led to the sub-levels.

  Few were admitted beyond the entrance to the Cenaculum Mortale Rejuvination, the chamber of mortal rejuvenation. It was the crowning achievement of the necronists, where life could be extended and living tissue regenerated. The elite savants of necronist arts, known as the white wyrding under the leadership of Guild Master Hume, conducted research into the world of metaphysics and improved techniques to tap into and control spiritual energy.

  Gerard was toward the rear of the retinue as they entered the ante-chamber. The guild had gone to considerable effort to represent the space as Egyptian to remind the Emperor of the expedition to Egypt that cemented the alliance between Napoleon and Crocus. Gerard knew better than anyone it was what Hume, and he had studied in Haiti. That had provided the significant breakthroughs in divine energy transmission, not Egyptian tablets. What his dead paramour could manage with sticks and her incantations, the guild had industrialized to make the process reproducible by those that had limited spiritual talent, like Crocus and others.

  Here the King’s personal bodyguards took a position as sentries on either side of the double metal doors within the ante-chamber. They followed every movement of their liege with exception to his study and sleeping quarters and beyond this point at the guild house.

  Inscribed above a small narrow archway that was the entrance to the most sacred space of the necronist guild was:

  Through Death, I am Humiliated

  Through Death, I am Exalted

  The enclave moved through a narrow passage that compelled the company to move through in single file. Great effort had been made to leave an entrant with the claustrophobic quality of delving into an ancient mausoleum. This was another place where French imperial protocols were ignored. Crocus led the group into the chamber rather than everyone walking behind the Emperor. The inner chamber was simply constructed, a large pyramid-shaped vault of stone, with walls covered with carved inscriptions. Centered in the room on a raised dais were the Conoptic vessel, the tub where a subject was treated, and an ornate cantilevered armature that upheld the lid of the tub. Both the tub and its cap were sculpted out of alabaster.

  Purposely hidden beneath the vessel were the piping, tubes and conduits that connected the tub to the complex process that drove the of the chamber one level below. The necronists brought a scientific and industrial approach to the manipulation of supernatural forces but went to great lengths to hide the appliances to create mystery and to leave the Emperor with the illusion it was the guild masters themselves that imbued him with life-force.

  Saint-Yves and the other guild masters took their positions around the tub. Only these few Masters and Dr. Philas understood the extent of the treatments and how dependent the Emperor had become on this secret process to his lively state at such an advanced age.

  No one spoke until the Emperor started conversation. It was important to leave the King with an impression that the guild masters were subordinate
and humbled in his presence.

  “What happened to you guild master? An experiment gone awry?” questioned Napoleon, grinning at Gerard.

  “My Emperor, this scourge was inflicted upon me while in service to you, my liege, and to the guild. It is a small price to pay to secure the medium we will use for today’s therapy,” replied Saint-Yves.

  Crocus interceded. “My Emperor and dear friend, Guild Master Saint-Yves has made extensive sacrifices and was in mortal danger to secure this special spiritual medium to infuse into the healing bath, and your interceding on our behalf with the British government helped to secure his safety and assure we have the full complement of masters to conduct the infusion.” Crocus was more carnival huckster now that a metaphysical savant prepared to say just about anything to build illusion in the monarch’s mind.

  “Your service to the empire has always been exemplary, Guild Master, and I hope that your brethren will provide you a similar treatment to reverse your unfortunate state. As to the English, you can be assured that your personal protection is a priority of the empire,” stated Bonaparte as he removed his sash and sword.

  “Thank you, Your Majesty, for my safe passage back from London, and soon, I too will have this mortal damage repaired,” replied Gerard, wondering if the Corsican even could remember Gerard’s name. Crocus and the other masters had gone to great extent to leave Napoleon with the impression that his treatments required a full complement of guild masters. He might just think of us as important tools to extend his life.

  “Excellent. All will be right for you and I soon enough,” said Napoleon. “I was wondering why you called for a treatment outside of the usual schedule.” The Emperor’s traditional treatments took place every three months.

  Dr. Philas helped Napoleon out of his uniform, placing the items on a portable suit valet. The physician, a high-level necronist, was reduced to the duties of valet as he unbuttoned the Emperor’s shirt.