The Necronists

by J M Bannon

  "What?”

  "Strathmore is my fucking banker. That's right, I have accounts at Chilton, Owens, and Strathmore. Set up the meeting. I have to know what he needs my machine for," said Jimmy.

  8:12 a.m Dakota Territory

  At the helm, Reidun had forgotten the conditions the spring winds could bring to the mid-continent. The cold and warm air clashed, whipping up howling headwinds challenging direction and momentum of the airship; particularly difficult when maneuvering at lower altitudes. The Peregrine had finished its fogging run over the second killing field they found today. Locating the positions was hit and miss as she coordinated her maps to Hanska's sketches. Elmore translated the Indian's country directions to navigable points, no mean feat given Hanska was describing things from the ground and they were one hundred feet above that.

  Once they arrived in the general vicinity, it was easy to find the carnage; fields filled with dead bison for miles all in various states of decomposition. The stench even made its way up on to the bridge, pungent when you caught a whiff. Reidun felt bad for Dolly, Rose and her crew who went down to conduct a spectral imaging. They had finished the fumigation sweeps and were waiting for the runabout to return, then proceed onto the next location.

  Reidun saw Rose coming up the spiral staircase in her peripheral vision. The access stairs came from the deck where the runabout berthed up to the bridge. "Reiden, we need to set a course for Omaha,"

  "What, why?" asked the Captain.

  Dolly was right behind her and Elmore brought up the rear. "Captain, can you beat that train down there to Omaha?" said Elmore.

  Reidun smiled, "that is music to my ears." She looked to Dolly as he was the representative of the Crown.

  "What are yeh waiting for Lassie, let's get this man to Omaha,”confirmed Dolly.

  That's all the Captain needed to know. She made a point to her passengers. Throwing the throttle to top speed, the bells rang on the bridge instructing the engine room to advance full steam. Reidun then began a turn and increase elevation. "Hang on."

  The thrum of the propellers increased, but that is not what delivered the thrust. The airship rose up and caught the jet stream; with a shudder, the ship suddenly sped up causing Rose and Elmore to steady themselves with the closest handrail.

  "They don't stand a chance,” said Reidun.

  "Are you sure? We saw Wilburn's train go by…" Elmore pulled out his watch and looked "… twenty minutes ago. We packed up as quick as we could but when I saw the train roll by my concern returned. I am certain he will report directly to his masters that the Lawmen have what they seek."

  “We will catch up to them without a doubt; it's just, are you sure that is where they are going?" Reidun asked.

  Elmore paced in front. He pulled his hat off and was scratching his head as he looked at the floor, "Yes, better yet can you beat them to Omaha and then get clear of the city before they know we are there?"

  “Amelia, bring over the map." The First Mate brought the Captain the map and held it out for her to study. Reading the gauges and dials, she increased altitude confirming, "without a doubt we will be in Omaha and out of sight before they arrive."

  The Marshal felt hopeful, "Here is the plan you drop me off with one of those runabouts just outside of the Omaha station, wait for them to arrive, then follow them when the train gets into the station. The next main location on that line is St. Louis, that is where you will head. If they leave Omaha without incident, I will wire you at the Aerodrome in St. Louis to follow them while I catch up on a passenger train. If Omaha is the destination, then I will wire you to meet with your Necronists, to see what can be done to save those poor souls."

  5:40 p.m. Omaha Rail Terminus

  The steam locomotive pulled into the Omaha station on a siding, away from passenger traffic. Elmore had found a secluded location near a service roundhouse where he could watch the entire junction. He spotted the small private train rolling in and his stomach fluttered as the train moved through the web of track crossings. The nervous energy passed when the locomotive released its drive piston, steam plumed and the brakes screeched to a stop. He waited and watched Wilburn talking with MacMillan then Wilburn left holding a bag and Leary in tow. Maybe he was wrong, and those fellows were not Railroad goons but worked for Astor Company.

  Marshal Quentin cut behind the building and moved out of sight to follow Wilburn who made his way not towards the passenger station and the city but up the tracks towards the stockyards. Elmore had traded Dolly his Buffalo Jacket for his wool overcoat to better fit into the city folk of Omaha. He now looked more like a frontier businessman than a plains riding lawman. It had been some time since he was in Omaha; it was now a modern city growing up around the north and south connections to Kansas City and the east and west bound lines running to St Louis and Chicago.

  The Peregrine had departed several hours ago to fly onto St Louis leaving Elmore stranded in Nebraska. Not that he was worried he could hop on trains going either back to Denver City or east, right now he was wondering where Wilburn was headed. He stopped to observe as the Company man and his Irish lackey cut right and entered an area where the rail sidings shifted towards the off load for cattle pens. He hung back as it would be obvious walking around in-between the livestock pens.

  The two men proceeded to a large brick warehouse, using a wooden stairway to reach the second story entrance. Elmore made his way around in search of other ways in. the found another entry, on the opposite side of the building, via an alley, not accessible to the public.

  A sign above the door stated the company name, Continental Cattle Company. Now he needed to get to a wire-type office quickly and cable the Peregrine then get back to observe his suspect.

  16

  Friday the 22nd of March

  2:00 a.m. The Continental Cattle Company, Omaha Nebraska

  It was late, or you could say early. Marshal Quentin had been keeping a lookout at the Continental Cattle Company for hours. He stepped away for a short time to check in with Sheriff Joe Murray and send off wire types to Chicago and Colorado City. He had only been away less than an hour, but without eyes on the building, he fretted that in the time away he could have lost Wilburn and Leary.

  Joe Murray and a deputy drove by in a steam-powered wagon on a routine patrol of the city. They rode past the front of the building then turned down a side street. A few minutes later he heard footsteps coming up behind him in the alley where he was hiding. It was Joe.

  "I could see you back there when I drove by,"

  "You were looking for me," said Elmore.

  "And desperate men doing villainous works don't watch out for Lawmen,"

  He had a point.

  "Thanks for checking on me Joe. After you go, I plan to take a closer look. Did you find out anything more about this place?"

  "Nothing to find out, it's one of the four companies operating a cooperative here for loading and unloading cattle on the siding. Some fella out East is the owner; that's about it,” said Joe spitting on the ground. "I'll go off the way I came."

  "Good night," said Elmore never taking an eye off the building, just listening to Joe's footsteps away down the alley.

  He waited longer, it was the early hours of the day and either they left or were up to something seriously no good in there. He made his way over to the building and checked doors and windows. The doors were locked, but he found an unlatched window. Peeking in, he couldn't see anyone, the dark space made it difficult to make things out other than lots of enormous machinery. He set his rifle up against the outside of the building, sliding up the windowpane. The minute I step inside I am breaking the law for entering without a warrant. Elmore thought, as he slipped in. Once inside he reached back to grab his rifle. Stretching to grasp the barrel, he heard a match strike behind him. He had the barrel in his hand when the room lit up with the light from an oil lamp.

  "Now, Marshal before you make one more move know I have both barrels of this shotgun ready to unload on y
ou," it was unmistakable. It was Leary.

  "I have been waiting all fucking night out of curiosity to get the better of you and now you finally decide to come in. Now you just keep dangling yourself out that window and don't make a move."

  Elmore looked around, he couldn't see how he could turn around or jump out fast enough then he felt the window close on his back, hard. "Ouch."

  "You think that hurt, just wait Marshal," Leary said, as he pressed the shotgun into his back. I'm gonna undo your gun belt, if you even squirm a little, I'll fucking kill you,” said Leary.

  He felt Leary undo the belt and heard it hit the floor.

  The window opened. "Now slide your way through in here and leave that rifle of yours where it is, I see any part of it and you're dead."

  17

  Wednesday the 27th of March

  Rue Mazarine Paris France

  The young lady strolled down the gas-lit streets marveling at all the pedestrians roaming the boulevards. On her shopping excursion earlier in the day she bought a new bodice, several skirts and arranged delivery to the hotel where she had hired apartments. Now decked out in her Parisian finery, Lilith consumed the energy of the busy street life and people still out after dark. Cafes were full, horse-drawn and steam carriages passed along the avenues. She thought if she were home the stores of Belfort would be closed and she would be in bed reading by a candlelight. Instead, she was here in the center of the most cosmopolitan city in the world; London might be bigger, but Paris was more stylish.

  Lilith passed a café and glanced in the window watching patrons laughing and talking while waiters carried the most appetizing treats to the tables. She then stopped at the corner window to look in a patisserie at a caramel tart then strolled away. Lilith had taken a few steps towards the curb and was just about to cross when she resolved she would go back to the patisserie and partake in one of those tarts. She stopped to turn around not minding her surroundings and tripped up on the high curb falling backward into the street. The last thing she heard was the sound of the steel-rimmed wheels of the steam lorry skidding on the cobblestone and the screams of spectators as the truck rolled over her at full steam

  18

  Thursday the 28th of March

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

  Rose stared out the window as they made progress through the boulevards of Paris from the Paris Aerodrome just outside the metropolis. The Necronist headquarters was in the center of the city sitting on the same Island as the Cathedral of Notre Dame. Given the sensitive nature and prior interactions with the Necronist Guild, Dolly had worked through official channels of Dr. Anou, at the French Consulate to arrange the meeting.

  The carriage chugged into the fenced courtyard of the Necronist Temple rounding the circular drive, then came to a halt under the colonnade where several Necronist Seers stood observing.

  Rose identified Guild Master Saint Yves standing at the portico, poised stoically in his tailored black vestments. She instantly recognized the damage he incurred when she last saw him had disappeared. She would swear he looked even younger than before.

  "You ready for this?" asked Dolly.

  Rose could sense her jaw clenched and her shoulders rigid. She sought to center herself only to notice how tense she was and how weary the journey had left her. When Dolly informed her that Elmore wanted them to bring the soul crystal to the Necronists and they would receive an audience with Crocus and his Eternal Circle she nearly vomited and didn't sleep as they traveled from Saint John's Newfoundland to Briest, France.

  The anxiety left her replaced by nausea. The sight of Saint Yves and his cult members brought back terrifying memories of that night and how they ruthlessly murdered Angelica.

  "How can we meet them, they…"

  "Rose, you're here as an agent of the Crown, and her Majesties government has seen fit to let that matter go; those men will not be brought before a court. That must be put aside, pack that up in one of your fancy bags and leave it in the carriage. Our goal is to gain help with that contraption; we need to be observant officers of the Law and watch for any evidence as to who is answerable for the massacres. That's it. If you can't do it, remain in the car," Williamson's delivery reminded Rose she still struggled to subordinate her emotions to the logic of detecting.

  "Everyone has a reason or a season," She spoke out loud.

  "What?" asked Dolly confused by her muttering.

  "Nothing, something another advisor passed on to me."

  "Well here is more sage advice, bite your fucking tongue if you're battling with the reason or the season, Rosie," said Dolly with a grin and a squeeze of her hand.

  "Good morning Detective, Good morning Sister Rose," said Guild Master Saint Yves as Dolly and Rose got out of the carriage.

  "Constable Caldwell," Rose corrected Gerrard.

  "We are here as part of an official inquiry and have a series of questions to ask you and your Guild," stated Detective Williamson with his formal tone. "Absolutely, if we were not amenable, you would not have been let in through the front gate. Guild Master Crocus and Hume are waiting for us inside," said Saint Yves leading the way through the open courtyard past a running fountain. The place exuded solemnity and silence. The only sound was the echoes of their footsteps on the marble floors, en route to a set of massive iron gates with vignettes cast into them. They reminded Rose of her own bronze doors she had cast with sigils of warding. Opening the gates, Saint Yves spoke before they entered. "I wish to address our previous interactions and express to you, I harbor no ill will and am prepared to be as helpful to you and your government as I can be."

  Rose's blood boiled.

  "That can be said for us also, Guild Master," replied Dolly looking to Rose.

  Option two, bite tongue. She thought.

  They entered a spacious sitting room, empty but for the High Guild Master Crocus and another who sat fireside. Rose recognized Crocus, etching of his face had been in papers for decades; he was reported to be the preeminent Medium in the world.

  "High Guild Master, may I present Detective Inspector Fredrick Adolphus Williamson and Constable Rose Caldwell. This is the High Guild Master Sebastian Crocus and Guild Master Hume of the White Wyrding," finished Saint Yves. He then took a chair to the right of Crocus.

  Crocus never got up. "Please have a seat. Let me commence by saying, I want to use this encounter to establish that the Necronist Order is of benefit to Her Majesty. Detective, we are not death cultists or worshippers of the dead; we are scientists, leaders of metaphysic sciences. What we offer goes beyond politics, religion or business. Share with us what was so urgent that it came through French diplomatic channels; the Necronist's leadership only aspire to serve." Crocus offered his open palm as a signal for the Detective or Rose to speak.

  Rose sat quietly observing. She and Dolly had been brought to the inner apartments of the Eternal Circle; the seven Guild Masters were the most influential and potent men in Metaphysics. Rose had seen Saint-Yves and knew he was adept at offensive metaphysics and projection, Crocus was purportedly the master of prophecy and premonition and finally, there was Hume. He was the quiet one working behind the scenes, but Preston shared with Rose that it was Hume who developed the metaphysical process rumored to keep Napoleon and his fellow Guild Masters younger than their years.

  Dolly took the lead. They had planned out their approach on the flight over from America once they knew they had an audience with the Guild. "Thank you for your time. It is to your point that we have come. We need your expertise. Last year, there was an event on the Zeus Colonial, a passenger airship traveling from Boston to Paris. All souls were lost, a ghastly incident," Dolly opened.

  "We know of that calamity," offered Crocus.

  "My branch was solicited by the Government of the United States to examine an identical incident in a frontier town where over forty people lost their lives in a similar way. This incident occurred a few weeks ago," Dolly paused looking to Saint-Yves t
hen went on talking, "I need to bring up a delicate subject. All the victims resembled the murder victims of Angelica Du Haiti, but this was done en mass and quickly. Local U.S. law enforcement found an instrument that Constable Caldwell believes caused these spirits to be stripped from their bodies. We are here to discuss if you possess the ability to return the souls to their hosts or aid us to locate the origin and operators of the apparatus.

  "Do you have this machine with you?" asked Crocus.

  "It is on our ship," responded Dolly.

  "Guild Masters, I know that this device bears the living spirits of the inhabitants of Harpsichord. I could vision the event when the device detonated, it swallowed all life instantly and I want to emphasize my personal concern, ah let me rephrase that, I would ask you to assist to ensure that these souls are safely sent to the hereafter,” said Rose.

  "Rose, both the Crown and the U.S. government seek to restore those people," challenged Dolly.

  Rose was silent, she looked at Dolly then to the Necronists. "The uninitiated believe the Djinn can go back into the bottle after it has been released. I am concerned that any undertaking to return them to a human host could create more strife and horror than releasing them to an afterlife. You know as well as I do that an artificial stasis of the soul is a dreadful existence," continued Rose.

  Crocus sat up, "Detective, your deputy is correct. The spirit is a peculiar energy form, distinct from all others and thus not transmutable. One of our central theorems is that spiritual energy is extraordinary, separate and rare. Like the naturalists and physicists, we believe the substance of matter is energy, but the energy in the table, even the underlying energy that makes up my flesh is a common, let us say unintelligent energy. The soul is not the same energy. We all can stop and quiet our minds to the point to recognize that within all of us is an individual essence separate from our body and the thoughts that rush around in our heads. We know it is an endeavor to place it physically in the body. Is the spirit in your head or your heart?” said Crocus as he rose. He strolled over to the water pitcher, on a side table. He poured a glass for himself then continued, "The good Sister has walked the margins of the truth, she has projected and had out-of-body experiences. She has seen that there are those who can take the soul of another and as such, she knows life energy is not easily communicable."