by Annie Seaton
“I would like to thank you all for being here at this ungodly hour. I am very grateful,” said Sofia
“We didn’t stay back, Sofia. We are so close to success, we have been working through the night for two weeks,” replied Johann.
She frowned “It is imperative you take the utmost care. Any unusual interest in your work must be reported to Henri...immediately.”
Sofia quickly filled them in on the events of the previous night at Westbahnhof.
“I am sure it is related to the shipment on the train.” She shrugged. “Somehow, somewhere there is an awareness of what we are doing.” The three scientists all tried to speak over each other, protesting.
“But—”
“We haven’t—”
“There is no way—”
Sofia held up her hand. “I trust you all implicitly. However, it has happened, so there is no doubt. Somehow, word has spread of what we are close to...”
She paused. “I will not say immortality as that is tempting to the Fates.”Let me say, we are close to discovering a life-giving elixir that may prolong human life.”
Professor Schmidt nodded sagely.”No, madam...we will not be presumptuous.”
Sofia placed her hands on the table in front of her and turned to the professor. “Now I want a full report on what you are up to. Did the cargo come in from the station last night? Was it intact?”
“Yes, madam. All was well.”
Sofia turned to Johann. “Henri tells me there has been a significant development in your research?”
Johann inclined his head and reached for the illustrations in front of Genevieve.
“Indigo’s research has confirmed the stamen is vital in the healing properties of the passion flower, but our research indicates it is the petal of the night blooming moonflower that provides the catalyst for the elixir. If we are to successfully propagate the flower in a controlled environment, it must be planted at full moon and bathed in moonlight until the full moon wanes. Any plant germinated at other times of the cycle and harvested without the requisite moonlight has not had the life-giving properties once the elixir has been reduced in the laboratory.”
Sofia was intrigued. “How did you establish that?”
Johann looked over at Genevieve and smiled.”It was serendipity, madam.”
Sofia turned to the young woman. “Serendipity?” she asked.
“I had an idea when I was illustrating the report on propagation for Professor Schmidt.” The young woman blushed. “I was sketching and as I was drawing the petals, the shape of the petal reminded me of a new moon and I got carried away and illustrated the botanical with the background of a night sky.”
Johann interrupted and his words spilled out excitedly. “When I saw it, it gave me the idea of experimenting with different stages of light...you know how Indigo’s passionflower uses luminiferous aether to stay vital, well... we put the moon flower through the monthly lunar cycle and transformation was almost instantaneous.”
Professor Schmidt interrupted, his head bobbing in excitement. “And what we had spent years trying to create artificially by the transformation of the botanical matter, occurred naturally in one night under a full moon.”
Sofia was delighted to hear of the progress made since her last visit.
“So, where are we up to... do you need more flowers? Do we need another trip to the Alps to harvest more seeds?”
“Yes, Sofia,” replied Johann. “Now we know the moonlight is critical to the process, we can propagate each crop in the laboratory from the seeds.”
“It will be the final trip,” agreed the professor. “So one final trip to collect the plants in midsummer when the flowers turn to seed will be enough to continue our research.”
Sofia smiled.
“I shall organize a trip in midsummer. I believe my twin nephews may like an expedition to the Alps. Having the boys with me will provide good cover.”
The professor frowned. “Do you really believe, Sofia, there is a need for all this subterfuge? Do you really think the incident at the station was related to our research?”
Sofia shook her head slowly. “I honestly do not know. However, I am not prepared to take the risk. Although I do not believe it can be the fool Lorca who causes my sister so many problems in her ventures.” She smiled grimly “Although since Captain Thoreau has become Sheriff and is a highly respected representative of the queen, Duke Lorca has pulled in his little head considerably.”
Sofia walked over to the window and stared into the darkness for a few minute before continuing. “There was something much more sinister behind the incident at the railway station. The dirigible and the automatons indicate this is a very well funded operation.
Whilst you are waiting for the new seed, Johann—” Sofia turned to the young man “—I have a mission for you. I would like you and Genevieve to take a trip together and undertake some research on automatons and dirigibles for me.”
She smiled as the blush spread up the young scientist’s neck. She had long suspected he harbored a secret passion for his colleague who remained blissfully unaware of the esteem in which the young man held her.
“I will meet you in Cornwall at my sister’s holiday biomes in late July when I return from the Alps and you can report your findings to me then. I am sure by combining two intellects such as yours, you will discover the source of this operation.
“Remember to take care and pretend you are simply on holiday. I will deposit funds into the Professor’s account for you.”
The professor turned to her, eyes twinkling. “When do you intend travelling to the Alps, madam?”
“I will collect the twins in their summer holidays and bring them back to Austria in middle of July. I shall have your seed for you by the end of the summer. In the meantime, if there is anything of concern or you make a breakthrough, send a message to Indigo that says...” Sofia put her finger to her cheek.
“Invite her to the opening of the new wing of the chemistry department mentioning that it is to be named after our father. An innocuous message, but if either of us receives such a missive, we shall know all is not well.”
She crossed the room and placed her arms around the professor.
“Take care, Ernst. Do not work such long hours. We have waited many years for this moment and we need to be assured all is safe before we continue.
Sofia turned to the young couple and smiled as Genevieve glared at her.
Hmmm...maybe she is not as unaware as I thought.
“Now, I want you to be extremely careful. I suspect there are forces at work here, which, if we let our guard down, may mean the end to our research. At the moment, they are unsure of the progress we have made. We need to challenge them and ensure that they do not discover our advances. We will send them off on a wild goose chase.”
She bid them all farewell, feeling confident once again.
“Come, Henri... I really need some sleep. It has been a very long day.”
Chapter 3
The sun had taken on the dull burnished copper of coming dusk as Dougal, Earl of Rothmore rode away from Castle Dean, one mile northeast of Kilmarnock. Since Lady Lucy Cavendish-Bentinck, married Charles Ellis, the 6th Lord Howard de Walden and moved to his family estate in London, Castle Dean had been empty but was now maintained by a small resident chapter of the ancient Scottish Order of the Knights Templar.
Even though he was a peer of the Kingdom of Scotland, Dougal was a lowly steward in the order, having inherited the position on the death of his father, when he became Earl of Rothmore, before his fifteenth birthday. His castle was on Little Rothmore, some twenty miles west across the Firth of Clyde, and it was his duty to prepare the Great Hall for the meeting of the Council of the Great. An urgent missive had been received from the Grand Conclave of Knights in Edinburgh and there had been little time to prepare for the meeting.
The gelding was unused to a road wide enough for several horsemen to ride abreast, being used to the deer trail
s and the rugged terrain of the island. Dougal held the reins tightly as a carriage passed them on the outskirts of the small town that was Kilmarnock, reaching down to pat and reassure the skittish young horse.
“Just a few more minutes and I will water you at the brook while I collect some ale from the inn for this evening.”
The more ale, the better, he mused. He was also a little curious as he had been instructed to collect a small vat of wine for the gathering tonight. It was the first time since he had inherited on the stewardship of the order that such preparations had been put in place for a meeting, and at such short notice.
Perhaps there may be a special guest tonight?
He knew the Council would be most unhappy with the news from Vienna and his failure to deal with the stranger at the station. After tethering his horse, he walked across to the inn and supped on bread and ale as he considered the best way to broach the unfortunate news.
Even though it was commonly believed the small chapter based in Kilmarnock was a division of the Freemasons, the Council of the Great was actually the governing body of the descendants of the Knights Templar who had taken refuge in Scotland in the fourteenth century. Dougal was not privy to the inner workings of the Council as he would not be fully inducted until ten years had passed. He was, however, aware of the deepest secret of the Council, as his father had shared the information on his deathbed, begging his son not to take up the hereditary position. Dougal kept the information close to his chest and knew his mission in Vienna was closely related to the ancient order’s whole reason for being.
Tonight will be very interesting.
The members of an order, who embraced life and immortality, would not be pleased with the news he would impart tonight. He had been under instruction to kill the female observer at the station and bring the body to Kilmarnock for identification, so the suspicions of the Council could be confirmed. The whole trip had been the culmination of an elaborate set-up with false information spread through the Queen of England’s network eventually filtering down to the Sheriff of Cornwall as intended.
Dougal reached into his pocket and fingered the monogrammed leather glove. He would wait to see the reaction of the Council before he confirmed, or indeed if he even revealed, the identity of the observer. The role of steward was not one to be involved in the taking of life, and he was concerned for the reasons this mission had been allocated to him. It may be that he had been chosen simply for his youth and strength or it was a test of his loyalty. For the time being, he would stay with the Council and seek his own understanding of the ventures of the white-haired woman. Tonight he would allay the fears of the Council.
THE SONOROUS BEATING of a drum heralded the entrance of the Holy Five, the leaders of the Kilmarnock chapter of the Council of the Great. A dozen or so white-cloaked men of varying ages sat on benches arranged in the center of the Great Hall. Dougal and the one other young member of the order had prepared the seating, lit the sconces and filled the jugs with ale.
The red wine was on the front table and covered by a white cloth. Dougal and his fellow usher stood flanking the entrance and when the drum stopped beating, each lifted their side of the heavily embossed red curtain as the Five walked slowly into the Hall.
After they had taken their seats at the table, Dougal and his fellow usher acted as cup bearers and filled their goblets with the ale, before lowering their heads and backing to join the other men seated on the benches.
As they sat, the leader of the Five stood and reached for a manuscript on the table. He unfurled it with great ceremony and his deep voice echoed across the large Hall as he began to greet them in French.
Dougal watched as the manuscript unfurled, taking care to keep his face solemn. He observed their Leader as he greeted the gathering. A tall man of indeterminate age gripped the manuscript with long, bony fingers. His skin had a faint tinge of yellow as though he had recently suffered an illness. Long white hair trailed past his shoulders and his matching beard fell almost to his waist. A white surcoat fell to the floor, and a large red cross on his chest was just visible behind his long white beard. Dougal smothered a smile; the archaic dress would draw attention to the Leader if he were to be observed outside the castle. His robes befitted a Knight from the twelfth century rather than the progressive times they were now in. However, it was the eyes of the man that caught his attention. His cold, expressionless eyes seemed to look into your very soul.
Dougal shivered as the old man pinned him with his gaze—it was almost as though he could read his thoughts—before turning his attention to the parchment in front of him.
I certainly pray that he cannot.
“Good evening, my lords. I welcome you unreservedly.” He held up the manuscript and briefly reverted to the language of the Knights Templar
“Je me félicite de cette charte”
I welcome this Charter, Dougal translated in his head, while some of the Scottish knights looked confused
“Tonight we are here for two purposes. I have recently been summoned to the Council of the Great in Edinburgh and have been advised our chapter has attained the forty first degree of perfection.” Two of the old men on the front table gasped and the remainder of the Five looked at each other in confusion.
“Yes, my fellow knights, the Unutterable Degree.”
Dougal turned his head and glanced at the men who were sitting in the front row with him. Expressions of confusion vied with fear and he caught the eye of the other young man, who raised his eyebrows at Dougal in question. Dougal shook his head imperceptibly and the young man raised his fingers a fraction to acknowledge the unspoken message.
The two older men at the front table stood and embraced their leader.
They sat and the Leader raised his hand.
“However, before the Unutterable Degree is conferred upon our small chapter, we have been given a mission. We must have unerring evidence the scientific quest for immortality in Vienna has been destroyed. The Order of the Lunar Temple has chosen our encampment for this mission.”
His voice rose in anger.
“Our knights have taken centuries to achieve immortality, through spiritual growth and working upwards through the degrees of perfection.”
He slammed his fist on to the table and the goblets rattled.
“Our spiritual perfection will not by threatened by the physical sciences.” He stood at the front of the gathering, silently observing the men as he fingered his long beard. The small group of men of all ages focused on him, each with rapt attention.
“Earl Rothmore, I give you permission to rise and address the gathering of your findings in Vienna.”
Dougal stood and made his way to the centre of the room where the Five looked solemnly across at him.
He was a big man and not easily intimidated, and as he caught the gaze of the leader of the Five, the determination in the eyes of the old man sent a shiver down his spine. A shiver that settled into a pit of cold in his stomach as heads turned to see the source of a metallic clicking across the paved floor near the side entry of the Great Hall.
The two automatons he had left at the border with the dirigible, moved awkwardly across the large open space toward the table in the center of the Hall, their brass extremities ringing sharply on the cobblestones and their brass joints clicking as their robotic movement pushed them forward.
He kept his face expressionless as they moved past him and stood on either side of the table. The gravity of the situation was illustrated by the presence of the automatons. Their presence flouted the edict of the Scottish parliament, that no mechanicals or paraphernalia of the new order enter the country. The roads to the border were always busy with carriages and cabs conveying Scottish passengers to the dirigible stations in many of the English border towns.
“My Lord?” The Leader’s voice was impatient and he rustled the paper in his hands
Dougal slowly made his way to the front of the assembly and bowed reverently to the Five, before turning to
the knights in front of him. His mouth was dry and he cursed himself for not taking a sip of ale before he rose.
“My Great Leader, I have difficult news to impart. Our intelligence was correct; the shipment arrived in Vienna as expected.” He closed his eyes briefly, as his mind worked furiously. He was going to have to be very accurate in his representation of events at the Westbahnhof as the automatons would have an analogue record of all that had occurred. He assumed they were fitted with miniature analytical engines, as wealth was no hindrance for this Council. He could only hope they were placed at such an angle so they did not see the woman’s hair fall from her helmet, nor record him retrieving the glove from the floor outside the last exit after she had escaped.
“The product was collected at the station by a courier and we were unable to follow it to its destination as we were otherwise occupied”— he turned and inclined his heads to the automatons—”attempting to catch the observer at the station. Our mechanical friends were unable to hold that person and even though I gave chase, he managed to elude us, making good use of the darkness of the early dawn.”
Bowing, he deferred to the mechanical men flanking the Leader.”Perhaps they observed more than I was able to see when I gave chase?”
He swallowed nervously, to moisten his dry throat and waited for the automaton to correct his version of the night’s events.
The one on the left turned to the leader and extended his mechanical arms. A low rumbling came from his chest and a short clipped voice followed.
“Observe, if you please.”
There was a series of gasps from the assembled man as the Leader reached over and turned the cog on the top of the automaton’s chest and a small screen slid out slowly in front of the five men sitting at the table. Dougal’s heart pounded as they watched the events at the station play out. Clenching his jaw, he kept his face impassive as he stared silently at the men in front of him. As light reflected from their faces, Dougal was able to keep up with the events that were being reenacted on the square glass.
