The Gaslight Girl: A Decisive Devices Novella (Decisive Devices Steampunk Series Book 1)

by Hargrove Perth

  “What about her?” Carl suggested without responding to Halloran’s questions or statements, pointing at the only artifact in the room that remained sealed - the queen’s sarcophagus.

  “No, neither of them would have desecrated the dead. That was an unwritten rule of law between them.”

  Without listening to Halloran, Carl walked around the stone tomb, slid his hands alongside the edges, and prayed some mechanism would reveal itself. At last he found a small lever, and the crypt slid open to reveal the sleeping queen still wrapped in tar soaked bandages and prayers.

  Carl motioned to Halloran to come to where he stood. She lifted one of the torches from the brass scrollwork snake on the wall and carried it to the edge of the sarcophagus. As the light fell inside the great stone crypt and illuminated the mummified queen, Carl reached inside, pointed to the linen wrappings around the chest and noted they appeared disturbed.

  “I am reaching inside, so if some enchanted or cursed thing happens to latch on to me, Frost, I am counting on you to read some of that scratch on the wall to save me.”

  Halloran laughed and held the torch closer to the mummy as Carl slipped his hand beneath the linen. “This is rather disgusting,” he mumbled as he pushed his hand deeper into the many layers of wrappings. “There is a door on her chest,” he said with confusion.

  “What?”

  “Since when are you deaf?” he replied, laughing. “There is a door, some sort of small door over where her heart would have been that is covered in gears with symbols etched into it. Whether you want to do this or not, Frost, we must cut free the linens.”

  Halloran nodded her head as her eyes closed, wondering what sort of crime this was in addition to being tomb raiders and corpse thieves. Her mind drifted as she pulled the blade from her corset and handed it to Nimble, wondering if some mechanical asp might lay beneath the door to the queen’s heart, some hidden and elaborate trap to stop anyone from desecrating her body and prevent her entry into the afterlife.

  “Wait,” she shouted and grabbed Carl’s hand. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him. He was, after all the infamous Nimble, the man with the lightest touch in all of England. There wasn’t a safe he couldn’t crack and a pocket he couldn’t pick, but this was new territory. This was completely different. “It might be a safeguard, something designed to kill intruders. Let me decipher those symbols on the inside of the sarcophagus first.”

  Halloran leaned forward, reading the symbols slowly, allowing their warning to become evident.

  “There is a certain orchestration to how we must proceed, Nimble. Cut the linen down the side of her body with care, and do not pull against that contraption atop her chest or it will be the end of us.”

  Nimble rubbed his hands together, interlaced his fingers and then pushed them palms outward to crack his knuckles while he grinned madly. “This is damn near a sight more exciting than when they first brought those moving pictures to the exposition.”

  “Just use the nimble touch you are so famous for with care. I am not one to be blown to bits.”

  Carl placed his left hand on the ribs just above where he intended to slide the blade. He held the wrappings firmly in place, slipped the knife beneath them, and slowly moved through the tar soaked linens. Sweat formed on his brow. Halloran was quick to pull her scarf from her hat and daub the sweat away before it dripped into his eyes.

  “Thanks, you’re a peach,” Carl said with a smile.

  After ten agonizing minutes, a perfect line was cut through the linen that allowed the mummified remains of the queen to show through.

  “Now you will need to cut across the top near the collar bones and across the very bottom of her abdomen.”

  Carl took a deep breath and again stretched out his hands once more before returning to the task. Halloran held her breath, though not necessary as it didn’t aid Carl in his task. It only gave her a measure of relief.

  “Halloran, your hands are smaller than mine. I will need you to hold the cloth along the collar bones. If I do it alone, there is a chance my hand might brush against that device, leaving us in pieces.”

  She took a deep breath then exhaled just as deeply before placing her hand on the cloth. Carl made quick work of it as he knew Halloran was uneasy. He pulled her hand away slowly and placed it at her side before moving to the lower abdomen to cut free the last of the linen.

  Carl handed the knife back to Halloran before carefully slipping his hands beneath the edges to lift it away from the brass door over Tausret’s heart.

  “Here goes nothing, or everything, depending on how you look at it.”

  Chapter Seven

  A Time of Many Devices.

  Jonathan pulled at his bowtie with slight in trepidation as he entered the home that belonged to Halloran. It had changed little for which he held a small measure of happiness for her, though he knew Halloran did not enjoy it.

  “Jonathan Pennywise, how delightful of you to attend.” It was Ellen and the forced smile Jonathan offered was far from genuine.

  He took the woman’s extended hand and leaned forward to kiss it, although biting off the ring glistening on her finger that Jonathan knew belonged to Halloran’s mother seemed more appropriate.

  “Come, Jonathan, I know Geneve will be so pleased at your arrival.”

  Ellen nearly pushed Jonathan and her daughter together as he fought to maintain his balance. As soon as her mother walked away, Geneve spoke softly. “After dinner, I must speak with you in earnest and in confidence, Jonathan. Halloran’s life may depend on it.”

  His shocked appearance could have easily drawn suspicion which offered Geneve the cue to drop her doily handkerchief on the floor for Jonathan to retrieve. As he stood to offer it to her, she smiled while speaking as though offering her deepest thanks.

  “There is no approval within me for how my mother chooses to treat Halloran, and I must confess I follow suit only for the appearance of it. Should I offer kindness to my stepsister, what might befall could be rather unpleasant. We must play along in their grand game and outwit them at it, dear Jonathan. It is the only means we have to return to Halloran what is rightfully hers.”

  Jonathan offered his arm to Geneve, who slipped hers through it, and they walked toward the sitting room together where Ellen had a small ensemble playing.

  “Would you like to dance, Geneve?” he asked.

  “I would love to,” she responded and allowed Jonathan to lead her to the center of the room.

  “This gives us the ability to talk far from the prying ears of my mother and sisters. I do hope you will take the words I have said to heart for it is meant with all sincerity. What do we do? How do we thwart whatever monstrosity she has planned?”

  “I believe there might be a means available, should you be willing.”

  “If it means Halloran will be free of this torment and my mother and sisters will receive justice for what they have done, I am more than willing.”

  The two whispered the entire time they danced as Ellen looked smugly on with contempt toward Halloran and satisfied in the fact the last item in the world that meant anything at all to her stepdaughter was about to be taken from her as well.

  “Well, I’ll be…” Carl began, looking at the heart- shaped door covering the former location of the mummy’s heart, the many gears, and cryptic symbols.

  “Now to decipher all of it, but I will still require that gifted touch of yours, Nimble. If I translate, can you enter the sequences?”

  “You are asking me, the greatest safecracker that has ever lived if I can do it? Halloran Frost, come now…” Carl shook his index finger at her, which made Halloran giggle. At least it broke the tension temporarily.

  “The top mechanism, turn it three clicks to the left.”

  Carl followed each instruction Halloran gave as they moved from gear to another, turning them a variety of directions, a differing number of clicks, and some a full three sixty.

  “The last one,” Halloran said with
a deep sigh. “Three clicks to the right, five to the left, seven to the right, four to the left.”

  She held her breath once more, watching as Carl entered the final sequence. Gears set into motion as he pulled his hand away. A puff of dust exited the device as the center of the heart disappeared inside the mummy.

  “That’s it? All that for naught?” Carl said and slapped his thigh. Just as he was about to turn away from the sarcophagus, Halloran grabbed his arm.

  “Nimble…”

  He turned slowly and saw something rising from the center of the still smoking device. They both backed away, fearful of what it might be as it continued to rise.

  “Grab it,” Carl said, pushing Halloran forward. “Grab it before it disappears.”

  Halloran quickly snatched the small sphere that was perhaps 3 inches in diameter off the rising pedestal with her gloved hand and slipped it into her coat pocket.

  “We better leave. The shade doesn’t have much time left,” Carl said, pulling Halloran toward the doors of the tomb just as the same doors began to inch their way closed.

  They narrowly escaped as the tomb was swallowed by the desert sand.

  “Now what?”

  “We head home and while we fly, I decipher how this confounded little contraption works.”

  Carl pulled a small box from his pocket and flipped open the lid, then depressed several small gears, enabling the aerostat to slip into auto-pilot and decipher their location in the difference engine.

  Halloran breathed a sigh of relief as the aerostat crested the sand dunes, and the drones dropped the rope ladder from the deck.

  Once inside the SS Nimble, Carl resumed his position in the Captain’s chair as Halloran set her sights on decoding the device and understanding how it worked.

  The symbols appeared to be a mixture of ancient Egyptian, Assyrian, and possibly a rare form of Sumerian cuneiform. Halloran now had a greater understanding of why her father had pushed her so hard to learn antiquated languages as they built the gaslight company together, why all the designs were written in these same languages, including the inscriptions on the lines themselves. It was all leading to this moment when the device would be hers.

  When they arrived at the south end of the Thames, Gem was waiting to take Halloran to the safehouse in White Chapel. Nimble took the aerostat back to the hanger at the East India Trading Company and allowed Gem to look after their girl. There was no one who was safer to entrust Hallorans safety to in all of London.

  He wrapped a cloak around her shoulders, lifted the hood to cover her hair, and ushered Halloran inside the waiting hearse.

  “A hearse, you could not find any other form of transport?” Halloran said laughing.

  “No one in their bloody right mind would look for us here.”

  “True,” Halloran whispered as he handed her a black mourning veil to wear to add authenticity to their appearance.

  As the hearse navigated the streets of London, Halloran was relieved to be home despite the danger facing her, and was even more greatly relieved to see the hearse pull into the rear alley behind the safehouse.

  “We need to dodge while the hearse is moving to keep appearances.” Gem nodded toward Halloran as he opened the door, allowing her to leap first and roll into the open door of the safehouse. He continued on with the hearse and chose to dodge three alleys down and walk back to the gang’s sanctuary.

  Harry hugged her the moment Halloran was inside and nearly carried her up the steps into the secret room. But what greeted Halloran was not what she expected. The form she knew to be that of a woman, it was not something she was ready to embrace as the shapely blonde stood and dropped the hood covering her face.

  “You are either bricky or daft bringing her here,” Halloran said coldly as Geneve stood timidly before her.

  “Before you get your knickers in a bunch, listen to what she has to say. Jonathan brought her here. Give her a listen, Frost, for me,” Harry said and waited.

  “Jonathan and I have a plan, Halloran, and after you know what we’ve been orchestrating while you were gone, it just might work if you are willing.”

  Halloran Frost closed her arms over her chest with a near sneer. “I will listen for as long as you entertain me, after that, I’m done with you.”

  “It began with some documents that I discovered by accident,” Geneve began.

  The rest of what the small blonde woman had to say left them speechless, including Halloran - who was rarely at a loss for words.

  “The two of you honestly believe this will work?”

  “We do.”

  “Then we have an accord.” Halloran offered her hand to Geneve, who willingly accepted it knowing for the first time in her life she was living by her heart and not by her mother’s evil deception.

  The Grand Hall at the Pennywise estate was a sight to behold on any given day, yet today it heralded the much anticipated announcement of Jonathan Pennywise’s pending engagement. Halloran had been home in London for nearly two months. Today heralded a new beginning for all of them.

  Jonathan stood at the bottom of the stairs alongside his father, the only person in his family who knew what was being undertaken.

  The guests arrived. Jonathan stood in the receiving line with his family. Lords, Ladies, and other nobles attended the formal gala for the announcement. As Geneve stood on the far side of the receiving line with her mother and sisters, she could not wait for the day to be over. The secret she had held was a dangerous one, one she was certain her mother would have had those thugs beat the life from her over. Yet she held a small amount of satisfaction knowing she had made a decision that would be life changing for all of them and her life would no longer fall beneath the hand and heart of such a contemptible woman.

  Dinner was served – a nine course meal of bisque, salads, roasted pheasant in white wine sauce, French truffles and the likes. No expense had been spared. As Jonathan’s father stood to make his toast, he smiled and nodded to his son, who then nodded to Gem who stood at the door, pulling at his collar in discomfort. The sound of the knife tapping the champagne glass quieted the room.

  “It is with great pride we celebrate the union of two families, two prominent families whose English bloodlines have graced this fair country for countless centuries. It is with a glad heart my wife and I announce the engagement of our son, Jonathan Pennywise to Geneve Willoughby.”

  Applause filled the room as the two stood and Geneve was escorted to where Jonathan stood. She took a deep breath as Gem opened the door and the guests called for a speech.

  “I know it is not proper, but I do so wish to extend my deepest condolences to my mother,” Geneve began. Whispers spread across the room like a wild fire, moving from one end of the grand hall to the other and back again. “For had she not chosen to poison Sir Edwards, the parents of Halloran Frost, and attempted to usurp their fortunes with the aid of my sisters, this moment might never have happened. You see, the evidence needed to convict Ellen Willoughby is in this envelope, along with the names of her accomplices, the recipes she obtained for the poisonings, and her contract against Halloran Frost’s life.”

  “You ungrateful strumpet,” Ellen shouted, lunging across the table at her daughter.

  Jonathan raised his glass to toast as Scotland Yard entered the room and escorted Ellen, Janessa, and Lora from the grand hall as the attendees looked on in utter disbelief.

  “And now, if I might introduce a woman of true virtue, whose strength and determination has shown through her expression each day, whose heart can know happiness once more, as the truly intended engagement is announced, my sister, Halloran Frost.”

  Geneve stepped to the side and applauded as Harry escorted Halloran into the room wearing a deep green ensemble with soft moss green stripes, her bodice cut tight, with large brass buttons that ran up the side of it. Her jacket echoed her individuality, more of a military style than the more fashionable bandelero that women now wore. Halloran despised dresses, no one could
climb a ladder to trim a gaslight wick with crinoline rustling about, yet as she walked toward Jonathan as he waited to take her hand, she could not have been more pleased with the natural bustle and small train of her mother’s dress as it trailed behind her. She nervously checked the small tophat atop her head and adjusted the half veil as Harry placed her hand in Jonthan’s.

  “Might I introduce my son’s fiancé, Halloran Frost, daughter of Allora Frost and Sir Harrison Willoughby the Third.

  The hush that had fallen across the grand hall of the Pennywise estate was filled with whispers that grew into applause as Harry and Gem clapped loudly and were quickly joined by Nimble and Will.

  “Welcome home, Halloran Frost,” Jonathan said and kissed her on the cheek.

  “That’ll soon be Mrs. Pennywise to you,” she said and smiled as Jonathan’s mother promptly fainted.

  Halloran stood on the far side of Carnaby Street dressed in her customary black corset and gaspipes holding onto Jonathan’s arm as the new sign was hung above her father’s company entrance.

  “The Willoughby, Frost, and Pennywise Aether Company – powered by Decisive Devices, has a nice ring to it,” Nimble said as he chewed on a piece of straw.

  “How does it feel to be partners, boys?” Halloran asked as Gem, Will, and Harry joined them.

  “Not too sure how it sits with ole Nimble here – since he won’t be cracking any safes any time soon.” Harry elbowed Nimble who then laughed loudly.

  “I have too much to oversee with Nimble’s Aerostat Service and the bartered deals with East India Trading to even consider having time for a good safe crack… but that doesn’t mean I won’t miss it.”