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The Guild Chronicles Books 1-3

Page 47

by J M Bannon


  “So where do you live?” whispered Anna.

  “Paddington, how about you?”

  “You sound like you're from the North. I am in Regent’s Square,” replied Anna.

  “The dressing room is over here,” said Mrs. Presley, she went to take the dress off the form in the window.

  “Originally from Chester but I live with my sister,” said Violet as she moved behind the curtain.

  As Violet was being fitted, she heard the shop bell ring as the door opened.

  “How did I know that I would find you in here?” said a man’s voice.

  “I have someone I want you to meet,” Anna responded ignoring his question.

  Mrs. Presley was buttoning up the back of the gown in the dressing room while Violet tried to peek through the curtain to see who Anna was speaking to. A tall gentleman in a naval uniform bent down gesturing in her direction, Anna whispering and pointing towards Violet. Just then Violet caught Anna’s eye, and she spoke aloud, “Come out, come out.”

  “I’m finished in here,” said Mrs. Presley flicking off a loose thread and imaginary dust. Violet stepped out from behind the dressing curtain.

  “Miss. Caldwell, I would like to present my brother, Captain Jacob Moore.

  “Good to see you again, Captain,”

  “Miss. Caldwell, it is a pleasure to see you and may I say you look dazzling in that color,” said Jacob Moore. Violet had not seen Captain Moore since his visit to Hawkin’s House nine months ago to speak with Rose.

  “You know each other? Do tell?” quizzed Anna, as she slapped her brother’s arm.

  “Anna, this is Rose Caldwell’s sister, I mentioned meeting her last year.”

  “My stars, how the fortunes align. Jacob, we were both window shopping and were attracted by the same dress. I had a feeling we would be kind friends and then she is no less than the…”

  Violet hung on her words and was waiting for some comment about her sister.

  “… girl you were fawning over.”

  The captain blushed.

  “Me?” asked Violet.

  “Oh, I am so dense, I should have placed the name Caldwell and Paddington. My brother, all he could do is blather on about when he met you when he visited. Here I am waiting to hear tales of your sister and he can’t stop going on about you,” exclaimed Anna, holding up the train of Violet’s new dress in admiration.

  “I mentioned meeting you to my sister and how pleased I was to make your acquaintance,” clarified Jacob, embarrassed at the fuss his sister was creating.

  “Now I understand your interest Jacob, she is very pretty. Miss Caldwell, you must come to Regent’s Park and join us this Saturday for afternoon tea.”

  "Anna, I have engagements this Saturday," said the Captain.

  "So, it will just be the ladies then," resolved Anna.

  * * *

  4:58 p.m. Crystal Palace Sydenham London

  "We find more time for leisure and pleasure because the power of steam does our work driving carriages, air and naval vessels, all the engines of commerce. I believe a new era is upon us, one which will create more wealth and fortune than all the fortunes throughout history. When we look up and view Her Majesties' airships; vessels the size of this building, floating through the air with massive firepower, what is magnificent on these ships is the work being done in automated mechanical calculation. What is impossible for the human brain to sum without error is being done by machines in a tenth of the time and 100 percent accuracy. Think of the most complex mathematical problems being solved by tireless, errorless machines driven by steam," said the man lecturing on the small stage off in the corner.

  Jimmy Lin listened vaguely while waiting to see the Dinosauria exhibition. Queen Victoria's Technical Spectacle at the Crystal Palace was foremost a technology exhibition. The sensation wasn't just modern technology on display, but fossilized remnants of gigantic creatures who roamed the earth millions of years ago. Sir Richard Owen's Dinosauria exhibit and lecture, had become the talk of the town; not so much the lecture, the wide foreheaded academic spoke to the common man as though he were a colleague in the sciences of biology and naturalism. In spite of the boring lecture, the street folk came to see the Professor's sculptures. He had assembled the fossilized bones to exhibit the ancient animals' sizes and shapes. Tickets were being scalped and hawked to record crowds wanting to see the towering bones and the artists renditions of those creatures with flesh and skin.

  Jimmy had no trouble arranging a ticket to Owen's exhibit, but his underworld influence couldn't save him from standing in line. The discussion surrounding a calculating machine piqued his interest, got him thinking about the roomful of abacus wielding clerks he had working in his latest venture and how they could not meet his needs. He made his way out of the queue and over to the Englishman with the sad turnout; only a few men listening to the man in a somber suit typical of an academic. The man standing next to the podium was portly and bald atop but the hair he did have was dark, wavy and grown out long like his side whiskers. Jimmy decided to enliven the audience with his energy and wit and walked closer to the stage to read the placard of the presentation. The placard on the easel read;

  Augustus De Morgan

  Polymath and logician

  London University

  On mechanical computation and statistical problem solving

  He stood there listening more intently to the scholar.

  "With the machine that Babbage imagines and using the techniques outlined in the letters of Lady Lovelace before her untimely death, the works of Boole and other polymaths could be tested and proven. The Machine would deliver advancements in all sciences dependent on mathematics, this is why the Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge seeks to build a calculation engine for the betterment of all society. Thank you for your time and I will now open the floor to questions," finished the orator.

  No one clapped. What little audience there was got up and walked away. Jimmy stood his ground on the edge of the stage. Jimmy waved to De Morgan to come over.

  "Do you have a question, sir?" asked De Morgan loudly for the audience.

  "I do but the answers are not their business," Jimmy whispered.

  "I would be happy to discuss your private interests after the open question period, Sir" De Morgan said loudly. Jimmy looked about what few people were present who showed no interest, it was obvious to Jimmy those sitting were there for the chair, not the lecture.

  "How about you and I go have a chat, Mr. De Morgan? I would like to buy you a cup of tea in the commissary," offered Jimmy.

  "I could have a tea break after my oratory," the man returned to the podium grabbing papers then made an exit from the stage. The stage manager was already taking down the placard for De Morgan.

  As they walked toward the commissary, Jimmy began his queries. "So, you have a machine that can do the calculations you were talking about?"

  "No sir, the machine does not exist. The closest in operation are the trigonometric machines located on a few airships; but these are purpose-built for navigation and the proprietary design of the Mechanists. The machine I suggest is a universal design, one that one day could calculate actuary tables on Monday, then do an estimate of planetary movement on Tuesday," described De Morgan.

  "You see, Mr?" De Morgan started.

  "Lin, Jimmy Lin."

  "Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Lin. Augustus De Morgan," replied the man.

  The man didn't react to my name, Jimmy thought.

  "Mr. Lin, these bloody Mechanists are trying to hold sway, holding a monopoly in the Empire. On the development and use of mechanical devices, they have influenced financiers who shun us and guide the military that mechanical computation should be a military secret. My group has been lobbying for funding and at every door, we go to with hat in hand, bam! Slammed in our faces,” said De Morgan.

  The two men navigated through the crowds to the commissary, De Morgan went to get in line.

  "I am tired of queues.
Let's have a seat," Jimmy proposed, grabbing a table. He then turned to a young man passing by, "How would you like a ticket to see the Dinosauria?"

  "I don't have the money, Scalper," replied the lad.

  “I’ll give you the ticket, all I want is for you to stand in line, buy two teas and bring them over to us, after that, I will give you this ticket. For your time and the tea you get to see Owen's monsters."

  "Righto mate, you have a deal," said the stranger.

  Lin sat down at the small table and offered De Morgan a chair.

  "You're a peculiar one, Mr. Lin. You may have just bought the most expensive tea in London," said Augustus.

  "Perhaps calling a stranger peculiar, is the reason you are off-putting to investors," retorted Jimmy.

  "Uh, I meant no offense, just an observation, and may I say in my defense that I am peculiar and that is why I do have trouble with the establishment. You see sir, I was not offered a position at Oxford because of my position on Christianity and my firm belief, that the font of knowledge is not solely in Europe." finished De Morgan.

  "You're an atheist?" asked Lin.

  "No, more of a spiritualist. I don't fall into a specific dogma," replied De Morgan.

  "When you say spiritualist, you mean like séances and ghosts," asked Jimmy.

  "More towards the scientific bend, such as the Necronists," replied the polymath.

  "I am friends with the White Witch of London," offered Jimmy.

  "Ah, now I would truly enjoy meeting her for a cup of tea. What little you can glean from the papers is she has extraordinary talents in the study of metaphysics."

  "I could make your acquaintance to Sister Rose if you would like, and everything is true, she has a great laboratory that she conducts all kinds of experiments in to help the coppers catch killers," mentioned Jimmy. He hadn't been to see her in months, but it wouldn’t be a big deal to drop in on the witch lady with this old man.

  "This is my point Mr. Lin, folks like myself and your Ms. Caldwell are outsiders and challenge the establishment. In ten years her theories may be de rigueur in the field of metaphysics and metaphysics may be just a specialty of general physics, but the Establishment is too tied to the current belief system. Here is an example, I edited a book by a genius named Ramchundra, a self-taught polymath from India. Smarter than any bloke in Oxford or Cambridge yet discounted because of his brown skin. I don't believe white Europeans have a monopoly on knowledge or spirituality and I have a mental advantage in review of these sources because of my open mind. As an example, your people have the abacus and it is an amazing tool for calculation. However, it is nearly useless here because we have so many measurement systems; money is in pounds, shillings and pence, avoirdupois and troy weight you see. Where in China everything is base ten. My friend Boole has a mathematical and logic system for a base two system that the machine would use for easier calculation," said De Morgan.

  Jimmy felt he was being lectured to and was becoming bored. "So, this machine, if you built it, could I calculate the chances of a horse winning a race?" asked Jimmy.

  "More accurately and faster than some bookie trackside; furthermore, with the inclusion of more of the elements that impact race results, the machine would improve upon its results."

  Jimmy took in a deep breath. He liked that answer.

  "How much would it cost to build this machine?" Jimmy asked speculating upon his earnings in advance.

  "It's a tidy sum, the budget we had brought forward was sixty-thousand pounds sterling," answered De Morgan.

  "And you could make this machine determine the right odds for a particular wager?"

  "You are missing the point, Mr. Lin."

  "I do apologize, I was unable to attend all of your lecture, I am just a businessman, can you please enlighten me?" replied Jimmy.

  "The universal machine, will process a formulated mathematical equation and solve it. No matter how complex it could complete the task. Someone like me who has a higher understanding of mathematics could write you a formula for the machine to solve," offered De Morgan.

  "So, you could write a formula to determine the best odds on a wager?"

  "Oh Mr. Lin, this machine is much bigger than finding that one horse to place a bet, but yes, with my equation and the input of the data I could tell you the right odds for a race," offered De Morgan.

  "Here’s your tea mate," the lad set down a tray with two cups, milk, and a pot of steeping tea. "Here is the ticket," offered Jimmy, he didn't even give the lad a second look as he handed him the precious ticket. "You’d better run, it’s starting soon," said Jimmy, his head swimming, not because of the concept of the math but of the opportunity. "How familiar are you with betting Mr. De Morgan?"

  "I am not," retorted De Morgan as he added cream to his tea.

  "Well, I am, it's my livelihood. I'm not in the business of gambling but making money off gamblers, and so is every other bookie. One part of the gambling industry is called laying off bets. You see a good bookmaker knows his maths and intends to have the odds set so that he attracts a nearly equal amount of money for and against a wager. If you notice your book is getting too lopsided, it's essential to place a bet with another bookie to reduce your risk. Bookies come to me for just that service, I've been thinking if I had more accurate information I could be more efficient at choosing the layoff bets I accept," said Jimmy.

  The wavy-haired man's eyes lit up. His intellectual fire stoked. "Asymmetrical information is the term Mr. Lin, and that is exactly what the machine and I can offer. An advantage for you to accomplish two things: have access to a bigger pool of information and a faster way to process that information. A speculative analysis of speculators," De Morgan reached into his coat pocket, removed a notebook and pencil and drew out for Jimmy strange notations of letters and symbols. "I would suggest you first do a mathematical analysis of known results. In your example, races where horses won and where the odds were incorrect. This analysis can then be compared to future races along the same variables to determine when a race appears suspect. I could do all of this in a matter of hours or minutes with the aid of the machine," described De Morgan.

  Jimmy smiled. He didn't understand the how, but he grasped the result. "So, you could identify where everyone was placing the wrong bet?"

  "Exactly! Let's say, for example, you could collect the information you're speaking of fast and centrally,"

  “Maybe by Wire-Type," interrupted Jimmy.

  Yes, that would work, a central wire type office. Then we would need to put that data into the algorithm. "

  Algorithm, are you just making these words up to impress or confuse me?" challenged Jimmy.

  "That is a word for the formula, a complex mathematical equation. Then we take all the inputs to determine outputs," explained Augustus.

  "And this algorithm would tell me the good and bad bets?" asked Jimmy.

  "Ah, this is where judgment prevails and can't replace a gentleman in the business. You could see the machines' numbers and how it compared with the human-generated numbers and how far off it was. Based on that you could pick the bets to take."

  "Giving me an asymmetrical advantage," noted Jimmy.

  De Morgan chuckled. "To be correct, the asymmetrical information gives you a competitive advantage."

  Jimmy didn't like to be corrected. "Ok, I have some asymmetrical information you can take advantage of Professor. I will give you the money to build your machine and pay you to write me my formula, but before you say yes or talk to another living soul about my proposition, I suggest you ask around about Mr. Jimmy Lin and decide if you are prepared to do business with me."

  "Will I learn anything more than the rumors that you are a notorious gangster?" replied De Morgan.

  5

  Monday, 4th of March

  9:15 p.m. Monastère de la Prairie vallonnée, Bourgogne-Franche-Comté region of France.

  Henri Allard wound his clock and waited behind the locked door to his bedroom. As second in command
he earned the Abbot’s room for his quarters. But this was a monastery and a monk’s cell was a monk’s cell; not much more than a bed, a desk and a simple chair. Quite the opposite to the country chateau where Hume resided.

  Allard set the clock on his desk, near the windows facing the courtyard. He drew his blinds and sat down heavily on the bed, considering his life’s work, spent as a Necronist, here at the monastery.

  All Initiates trained in this location prior to induction into the Guild, then were stationed to various posts around the continent. Allard was proud that Hume had seen his prowess and selected him for grooming into the White Wyrding sub order of the Necronists, who continued to research and push forward an understanding of the metaphysical arts. The only tradeoff was Allard had spent most of his time in the Order secluded at the monastery.

  At the appointed time the clock buzzed and hummed. From the small lens behind the clock face, almost too small to notice, a light shined out into the room. The beam dazzled as it darted around projecting a doorway, as if it was painted with light. Not an actual wood or steel door, but a square shaped portal of shimmering light, appearing as a sheet of falling water.

  Allard stood from the bed and walked through the gate, the scene reminded him of a hall of mirrors, but instead of mirrors on each of the twenty walls a framed opening appeared. The compact space could accommodate four people to stand without intruding on each other, all around the portals glowed. It was this venerable location that allowed his secret society to move from place to place.

  The Nexus was a hub for members to move between the various operations. The Doctor had shown him how to interpret the ciphers written on a slate board inside the Nexus. The board contained times and dates coded to his name and instructions for which door he should proceed to for a meeting. In position above the slate board a decorative clock had been placed.

  Henri removed his pocket watch and gazed at the fantastic timepiece. He admired the exquisite craftsmanship, and what it symbolized for him: inclusion into a crucial movement significantly influencing history. The bedroom clock and the handheld timepiece had been given to him by Caiaphas. After many months of study, he understood how the inner mechanism opened a door to the Nexus. Synchronizing time was critical for the operation of the gates and the Nexus. He did so by adjusting the time on the watch to match the clock in the sanctum, then upon his return setting the table clock to the same time.

 

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