The Guild Chronicles Books 1-3

by J M Bannon

  He had been contacted by the Home Office because of the strange circumstances and asked to investigate the situation. All he knew at this point was that The Zeus Colonial, flagship of the Zeus Commercial Cruise Line was spotted adrift in the air over Ireland. Unresponsive to signals it was boarded by Royal Marines. He was told the Strange circumstances onboard had been reported, the Air Service required the opinion of his special unit before proceeding.

  Not at a typical mooring at an aerodrome, the Colonial was moored in an open field but high in the air. A smaller airship similar to the one Dolly and Rose flew patrolled the airspace.

  The commander of the Woodlark had no further information beyond that Dolly and Rose would be met by the commander of the boarding ship and Air Service Command aboard the Colonial.

  Doing preliminary research, Dolly knew from public records that the Colonial had alighted from Boston on June Twenty-sixth and scheduled to berth in Paris on the Thirtieth. The Royal Air Service had been alerted to the missing ship, but it came to Dolly’s Desk just this morning after the ship was spotted last night.

  He had Constable Rose Caldwell and Detective Adam Burton with him. He had just approved Burton to the Branch and was having him shadow Rose. Dolly had been told that he would move into a supervisory position and have less time for cases.

  His attention snapped from watching the large air liner they were closing in on through the window to the Royal Marine sergeant who walked up to him on the observation deck.

  “Detective, we have readied a long boat for transit to the Colonial.”

  “Ok Sargent, let me get the rest of my team,” replied the Detective. Dolly walked to the back of the observation deck below the bridge to a cabin where Burton and Caldwell were talking.

  "The principle of spectral analysis is simple metaphysics. Think of it like this, when you breathe in your lungs fill with air. You can’t see it, or feel it but you know it’s there, this whole space is filled with the aether. There is a lot more you can't see that is also there," Rose said waving her hands in the air. "For instance, the light you see, isn't the actual light but the reflection of the light off an object that your brain turns into images, follow?" Rose asked.

  “So far,” replied Burton.

  “What if I told you just like the light there are other invisible energies flying around and that these goggles I put on when used with alchemical vapors and other chemicals can illuminate those energies or things that disrupt those energies? Now the reason folks are skeptical is this also requires training in the Metaphysical Arts, I mean I can’t just slap the goggles on you for example and you could see what I do, but with training you could,” instructed Rose.

  “Or when she uses the camera box with the vapors, then you can see it,” added Dolly, “You two get your gear, we are about to shuttle over to the cruise ship.”

  Rose and Adam stood up. Adam grabbed Roses equipment case. “I’ll get that,” he said.

  “What a gentleman,” Rose said as she strode out of the room.

  * * *

  10:20 a.m. Air Liner Zeus Colonial Coast of Ireland

  Royal Marines assisted the three police officers off of the longboat and into the open bulkhead door on the side of the airliner. This was unlike any airship Rose had been on, while the Victoria was much larger it had a spartan feel, and the Peregrine was old. Once inside the Colonial it was like being in Gilchrist Manor: plush carpets, dark wood and polished brass, a posh environment.

  A marine officer was there to meet them. “Detectives, thank you for coming so quickly. We have done our best to not disrupt the scene but the initial crew did a thorough search for survivors.”

  “And,” prompted Dolly.

  “None, I need to warn you the scene is truly shocking, I have had a few of the boys break down and these fellas were in Crimea. You might want to pause here ma’am while the gents look around,” cautioned the officer.

  Rose clenched her jaw and put her hands on her hips.

  Dolly laughed, “Major, she’s seen horrors that would make me piss in your pants, why don’t you show us what has you so concerned?”

  “Detective, our biggest concern is that if whatever caused this may still be on the ship,” the marine whispered, “a confirmation is required before we moor the ship near a population.”

  “Understood, Major, now let's see what we came to see,” pushed Dolly.

  “Follow me, you’ll get the picture when you see the main dining room,” the officer finished as he walked them to a set of double doors. The doors were glass, but both doors had sheer curtains so the interior of the room was hard to make out. The soldier opened the door, and shock hit them.

  “Oh my God,” gasped Burton.

  Rose stepped into the room to the first dining table. It was a table of eight, each seat filled with a mummified corpse. Every seat, over one hundred were grey desiccated bodies in fine evening gowns and dinner jackets frozen in the act of eating or talking. It was if they had died instantly, fossilized like the dead at Pompeii. The condition of the bodies dried and dusty looking with wrinkled leathery skin made one think these people had died back when Vesuvius erupted in seventy-nine AD.

  Rose leaned in to look at the woman fixed in the process of placing a fork in her mouth. The morsel had rotted as was the other perishables on the table.

  “And everyone aboard is in the same condition?” asked Rose.

  “Everyone, crew, patrons, every soul,” the soldier replied.

  “Oh, there are none of those left,” Rose said noticing a waiter laying on the floor, she could tell from the body position he had been standing and after his death had fallen over. She toured the room taking it all in seeing others that looked like tipped over statues.

  “None of what?” asked Burton.

  “Souls,” replied Rose.

  “The cuisine is going foul. I would say this took place at least three days ago,” added Burton.

  “That would corroborate with our estimation of when the Colonial went off course. The engines were still running when she was intercepted,” offered the Major.

  “Rose, is it me or does this remind you of …” started Williamson.

  “Chilton and Moya,” Rose finished Dolly’s thought.

  “But she’s dead, you saw Angelica die.” Detective Williamson stated with a tone of a question.

  “I did, and as powerful as she was she could never do this. Look, no one felt a thing they don’t have that same tortured look that Moya or Chilton had. This was sudden and a mass effect on all those aboard,” Rose spoke as she continued to observe the scene moving from one body to another.

  “You have seen this before?” asked the Marine.

  “Yes, I have, this is what a body looks like when its life force, the soul is ripped from it. Dolly, how fast can we get this ship to London. I will need all my equipment to begin our investigation.”

  Author Notes & Helpful Maps

  Here are links to vintage maps to help with the setting. While I would love to provide the exact locations and mark up these maps most these archives have strict copyrights pertaining to commercial use and even when requesting commercial use I could not even get a reply email. I give you close approximation and some general direction to give you the gist of the where of the who, where and when of this tale.

  London This great map gives you a feel for the whole city

  Rose’s New Home No. 4 BlandFord Square Regents Park, St Johns Wood, & Paddington

  Königsberg This is a city whole map. Lorelei’s lab and Kraft werks on to the east on the larger island in the Pregel River. The Crucible an Gas Works is on the eastern side of the city north of the river along the railroad.

  Berlin Kopernick Castle is outside of this maps boundaries. Humboldt University and the other locations are in the city proper.

  Constantinople This is a city whole map. The mosque is labeled.

  * * *

  The Necronists Book 2

  1

  Saturday the 2nd
of March 1861

  3:00 p.m. Denver City Hotel, Denver City, Colorado Territory

  “You see my dear Chap, I am in town to interview mining engineers. To find real pioneers ready to be part of the next historic gold rush. Pike’s Peak is old news. I work on behalf of the Miskito Sambu Government, a Central American kingdom ruled by an Indian named King George. A tip of the hat to the old British King; but I digress. What I intended to say is, my bank, Barton’s out of the city of London is running the operation and that is why I am here,” said the man in the bowler hat and dark suit.

  Elmore couldn’t help but notice the man’s accent; it was out of place here in the newly founded Colorado Territory.

  “Well, you couldn’t come to a better place, some of the finest engineers are in Denver City,” explained a young man sitting across the dinner table from the British fellow.

  “Who might you say are the top three engineers in town?” challenged the Brit.

  “Well, we got over three, but they are all busy as hell with the activity at Pike’s Peak. Top three, what do you think Al?” asked the young man of his companion.

  “You got the fellow that runs Lemont Mining, he’s the best. There is Dixon here in town and Goolsby would be my choices but there are plenty more, those are the ones I know,” responded Allen Hallsey.

  Elmore looked at the British gentleman, again. He was smartly dressed, clean cut with a goatee and a handlebar moustache. His eyes looked familiar, but he couldn’t place them.

  “I must be frank, Miskito Sambu is an undeveloped country wedged between Nicaragua and Costa Rica on the gulf coast; a lush mountainous region with geology similar to the Rocky Mountains. The local people have found silver in the creeks and washes for years and that led to the discovery of rich veins of silver and lead ore. The complication is the people are simple, a most primitive lot who want for nothing.”

  “I never heard of this place Mosquito…” added Pete Walters, the Denver City attorney.

  Elmore took another sip of his draft, set it down then slipped off his coat and set it on the bar. “Gil, watch my coat please,” said Elmore Quentin as he picked up his beer from the bar and walked over to the table to get a better look at the Englishman. Gil gave him a nod and went back to tidying the small bar in the dining area of the Denver City Hotel.

  “Most haven’t, it is about the size of Wales and untouched by the Spanish conquest of that region. It is actually very burdensome to reach by land with the mountain ranges, only accessible via the Gulf.”

  “So what the hell do some Indians in South America have to do with a limey coming to Denver to see mining engineers?” voiced Allen Hallsey the owner of a surveying firm in town.

  “Frankly, if you're going to be insulting Sir, I will find other company,” sniffed the English banker.

  “Don’t be rude to the fellow, he’s unfamiliar to Denver City,” said Elmore Quentin as he strode up to the table.

  Allen Hallsey introduced Elmore to Mr. Barton, “Mr. Barton this is Elmore Quentin the new…”

  "Ophthalmologist, Dr. Elmore Quentin," interrupted Elmore, putting his hand out, “at your service.”

  “And you carry a six-gun?” observed the Englishman.

  “Well, we are in the Western Territories. Lots of folks out these ways give insufficient attention to the Law. Ain’t that right Mr. Walters? Mr. Walters here is a local attorney he’s the true trailblazer trying to serve society out this way. I didn’t catch your name,” finished Elmore.

  “Bartholomew Barton, a banker by trade out of London. Mr. Barton stood and shook Quentin’s hand, then handed him a card.

  “Pleased to meet you. I do not have a card on me, but you can just stop by my office on Blake Street. I apologize for the intrusion, but I was just over there enjoying a drink, and I overheard that you’re searching for mining engineers and something else, about a silver lode?” "You heard correctly," replied Barton "I’m just wondering, same as my rude friend here, why you are worrying about silver when there is a gold rush in full swoon? Silver isn’t on the minds of many folks around here," asked the eye doctor.

  "It is on the minds of the Chinese and their trading partners. What do all the Abolitionists and Temperance activists drink? What does the entire British Empire drink? Tea! Where does that tea come from? China! The Emperor of China only takes goods in trade or silver. So, while those on the gold standard dig for the yellow metal, white silver is what the greatest empires in the world desire for trade," answered the banker.

  “Well, I am a well-educated fellow and so are these gents, but not speaking for them Mr. Barton and prepared to look the fool to save them from doing so, I have to ask how this scenario gets you over here to these parts?” asked Quentin.

  Barton shook his head and spread his hands on the table taking a deep breath. "No, sir you are not dense. I handle high finance of the most complex order and the fact that you have followed me this far shows you are indeed clued into some of the world’s intricacies. As none of you appear to be Oriental or British, nor having the experiences I have had as a Banker, you shouldn’t expect to be familiar. In fact, this is a secret venture I am embarking on, of a novel sort and other than a few high finance types like myself in New York, London, and Paris this enterprise is foreign. Let me explain," said Barton leaning in as if to tell a secret. All the men leaned in to the center of the table.

  "The East India Company, a mammoth operation, is one of the few companies allowed to trade with the Chinese. The primary trading goods are silk, tea, and porcelain, and the demand for these products in Europe is absolutely mad. We can’t offset the trade with imports. Now, we recently finished up a nasty bit of business over there to keep the ports and trade open and to allow the continued importation of opium, the one product from outside China most in demand.

  Here is where the silver comes in, now that opium imports can offset trade exports, the amount of trade will increase. The opium business is something that the East India Company conducts at arm’s length; they do not openly trade opium for tea and silk. Instead, banks like ours have trade accounts and we settle trade payments for the various debtors and creditors. Those exchanges take place in our Hong Kong Branch in silver, not gold.

  Now the irony of it is, the silver never leaves our hands; it moves from one side of the vault to the other, but there needs to be the actual silver in Hong Kong. That way if a client wished to put their hands on it they could. The increasing trade will require larger amounts of silver to be on hand and rather than source it from expensive Chinese mines; we at Barton’s saw an opportunity where we can mine this silver at a low cost to meet this burgeoning demand," Barton finished with grand aplomb.

  "Well, that makes sense," agreed Allen Hallsey amiably.

  "Yes, I aim to hire a few adventurous mining engineers prepared to travel to the Central American wilds. Where better to find enterprising engineers than in the current boom town? Once I interview a few candidates, I am returning to Chicago and Boston to meet with investors for the project, then down to Miskito Sambu to report to the King on our progress,” replied Barton.

  “So, this is an investment opportunity?” asked Pete Walters.

  “Well, we have a comprehensive project including the mine, a smelter and then a small port we plan to acquire. The consortium would own the ore, refining, and transport; all sanctioned by the King, a partner with a thirty percent share. My bank is prepared to fund the project with a three-hundred-thousand-dollar investment to cover our portion and the King’s portion. The king insisted as part of the deal we pay his share,” Barton made an exasperated face, “It’s good to be the King!” all the men chuckled.

  The Banker scrunched his mouth in thought, bobbing his head side to side. “So yes, we will have an allotment for investors for the last nineteen percent, leaving my bank with fifty-one percent,” finished Barton.

  “Did I catch that the bank has your namesake?” asked Quentin.

  “Very astute. Yes, the bank has been in my family
for three hundred years, and our business is bankrolling Royals and governments. It’s Sir Bartholomew Barton but I don’t want to put on airs,” said Barton.

  "Well, I wonder sir, if you would be interested in some Denver City investors," asked Pete Walters.

  “Hm, my goal for this trip to Denver City is to source engineers and I would have no means of knowing these are qualified investors.”

  "I have clients who might be interested; they could bring investment and mining experience," offered Walters.

  “I know I would put money in; I already have a stake in a gold mine and can’t think of anything more certain than a Chinaman’s need to hit the pipe after a long days’ work,” said Quentin.

  Hallsey and Walters gave Elmore a queer look.

  “What do you say, Sir? Mr. Walters here can draw up papers; I head across to the bank to withdraw a bank note for five thousand dollars right now. That too small by your figures?” offered Quentin.

  The banker thought. “That would be one point three percent of the project,” Barton replied.

  “I could do ten thousand, but hell, I don’t know about your Indian kingdom or you, so I am partial to holding back,” Elmore said pulling up a chair and sitting down next to the banker.

  “Quentin, what are you up too,” asked Pete.

  “Pete, I’m not looking to take the whole thing; I’m sure that if it’s OK for me to invest, he’ll let your fancy ranchers and proprietors get in on the venture,” replied Elmore who looked to Barton.

  “You all seem to be upstanding citizens and we might get some of you an allocation. Our minimum is ten thousand dollars but you could organize a syndicate of your money and invest it in the project,” offered Barton.

  “See Pete, there is a chance for us to get a piece of this,” said Elmore. He took a sip of his beer and peered into Barton’s eyes.