by J M Bannon
It was during treatment at a sanitarium where Rose first met Preston. He, a private patient in confidential care and her, a young Sister on hospital rotation to care for the infirmed. She learned he was under the influence of an ancient mystic spirit. Preston would speak in a strange accent and whisper to her about her visions. They became fast friends as Preston educated Rose on the metaphysical science and art form. She became his anchor to reality through her acknowledgment of Azul, and that Preston was not crazy.
Rose had discovered a solution, she had been gifted the knowledge of the Pwen Hanaan, from the dead voodoo queen, Anjelica Du Moya. The remedy would strip Azul from Preston's mortal form, but it would require Rose to delve into the dark arts and place Azul back into solitary purgatory. A year ago, she would not have had a concern for the continued existence of Azul, but after their adventure in Koenigsberg, she would now do everything in her power to avoid damning the Mystic into an eternal void. Even if she had a solution for hosting Azul's soul, she still had to cross a line into metaphysical practices, she felt would come at too high a cost and put her on an unmanageable slippery slope.
"Where is he now?" Rose asked gently.
"At the Manor. The calamity is entirely my fault. I invited Father to visit on behalf of Lord Gilchrist. Over dinner, he spoke of a medical Doctor named Gottlieb Burckhardt, and his results with James Maxwell,” explained Lorelei, wringing her hands nervously, a behavior unlike the acclaimed genius of alchemy.
"All right, I see, but have you seen Professor Maxwell?"
Lorelei was walking in circles around the parlor, consumed with anxiety. "He is recuperating in the English countryside, but you and I know his condition was quite different. Maxwell fell into a catatonic state from his exposure to that creature in the stone. Preston isn't crazy, he is doing his best to hold onto his sanity while sharing his body with another. This Doctor could do him permanent damage trying to 'cure' a metaphysical condition. Please, Rose, go to see him. Perhaps you can talk with this Doctor and persuade him to understand that what treatment worked for Maxwell will have no effect on Preston."
"I shall call on Gilchrist Manor and speak with Lord Gilchrist. He has been amenable to me in the past, and recognized my restorative effect on Preston," said Rose.
"And how about you stay here a while as our guest and relax? Better yet, Alfie is down in the studio working on the next phase of our project. He wanted to speak with you about powering his contraption," Rose knew there was nothing better to distract Lorelei than a problem to be solved. If Rose was to make progress with Lord Gilchrist she didn't need Dr. Taube's theatrics and hyperbole to escalate the situation.
7
Thursday the 7th of March
8:05 a.m. Villa San Giulio, Lago d’Orta Italy
Dimetri opened the floor hatch and lowered the ladder. He checked the sturdiness of the footing before proceeding down into the Nexus. While he looked unkempt and sloppy his habits of timeliness and attention to detail kept everything running. He confirmed his pocket watch against time on the wall clock. Timing was imperative in his life and now it was the hour for the morning inspection of the Nexus.
As the conductor of Dr. Caiaphas’ international network, if he did not keep strict observation and control of the time intervals, his network of gates would cease to function. Tracking the codes from the chalkboard into his notebook, he erased and made notations as needed, then gave the vestibule a good look over for any sign of disrepair. Upon completion of these mundane yet necessary tasks, he ventured back up the ladder and closed up the hatch.
The working components of what was known as the Nexus to the Brotherhood of One, was cut into the bedrock formation underneath the villa, on the island of San Giulio. The clockwork that drove the twenty gate connections was in the basement of the villa. The dimly lit space housed the massive complication he had designed and assembled. In all directions he looked were moving gears, wheel trains, and counterweights. All interconnected and synchronized to the central oscillator, a metaphysical balance wheel in a temperature-compensated tube filled with his eldritch gas mixture.
Dimetri proceeded through the cramped passageways between the machinery, then up the stairwell to the first-floor control station. Once positioned in his workshop, he transposed details from his notepad to his logbook then gave the indicator board and controls a cursory look to ensure all systems were operating as designed.
After months of these daily activities he was building a narrative in his head. Unaware of the identity of his fellow Brothers, he knew the movements and code numbers of the Travelers, his log book the official record of member movements. Just now he noted Traveler six had not checked in on the board and Traveler twenty-eight had requested a meeting with Traveler one, showing something amiss with Traveler six.
For many months Dimetri had worked tirelessly to build a travel system allowing his patron and the Brotherhood to travel unbound by distance. The technology performed flawlessly but from time to time the human element fouled up the works. This appeared to be another one of those incidents where the users were not adhering to the protocols.
Outside his workshop a small boat pulled up to the private dock. Dimetri watched through the window, as his villa staff unloaded the vessel. They were bringing crates of parts up from the dock to the house, components he had ordered for his latest project. Along with the parts, a tall man disembarked, one of the Doctor’s agents and the only other visitor Dimetri entertained; he hoped this man could help him solve the problem.
How Dimetri's life had changed since that eventful night he had triggered his first gate journey, by stepping through with one foot in his shack outside of St. Petersburg and the other landing sixteen miles away in the private library of Czar Alexander.
The leader of the Brotherhood of One waited for him there, somehow knowing even before Dimetri that his special parallax lenses would work to transport him to the private study. The users referred to them as gates, as his use of common structural concepts like door shaped interfaces fostered that illusion. However, what he had so brilliantly constructed, used energy lenses to distort and refocus space, removing the distance and time usually required to move from one point to another. Similar to how a telescope worked, it used the lens to concentrate and focus light to bring an image closer; he applied these concepts to space.
Dimetri gazed through the window as the gangling gentleman proceeded up the path to the estate. The guest relied on a walking stick to steady his gait up the winding path to the backdoor entrance. The villa comprised multiple stories, the main floor was actually the second floor as it aligned with the street on the front side of the house. The stately villas of the island used a unique architecture to facilitate access to water on the lake side and road access on the village side of the dwelling. On the tiny island, real estate held a premium, as the bedrock was challenging and expensive to quarry. The narrow villas sprouted up like towers to maximize property and lakeside views.
Although he loved to work alone, Dimetri was required to collaborate with some of Caiaphas’ associates from time to time. The tall man now walking up the path was the most frequent visitor. Dimetri met him for the first time at the train station in Turin; the gentleman brought Dimetri to this villa, a long way from his shack at the old grain mill in Russia. He knew he was American from his accent and manner, but that was about all he knew of the man.
The houseman escorted his guest to the study, nodded to both and exited. Everyone understood Dimetri's condition and did not expect him to speak. He was a mute since birth, and in deference to his condition the staff and guests did little speaking either. Some staff could sign, for the rest he would write on paper or one of the many slates around the villa for communication.
They sat down near the hearth and took up slates. Conversations with those unable to sign took time because it had to be written and read. While Dimetri had never spoken he could read and write in eleven languages. It was his primary form of expression and connection wit
h the world around him.
Dimetri began, "Thank you for visiting."
"It is my pleasure. This is a beautiful part of the world, so it is always beneficial to come. How have you been?"
“I like being busy, I am the most content I have ever been,” wrote Dimetri.
"That pleases me to know. The Doctor and I want you to be happy, have you had any time to enjoy the village or see the region?" wrote the man.
"The Nexus has been active, I feel as though I am a train conductor. This keeps me occupied along with our latest project," the Russian wrote.
"What progress have you made on calculating the transit point for the coordinates I provided?" the American wrote on the board.
On to business, thought Dimetri. He scribbled, "while the earth-based gate system was an upgrade to my design, the next generation system demanded by Caiaphas is far more ambitious. So much so I had to look for outside options to solve navigation issues."
"We have a tight schedule to keep, the Brotherhood is counting on your genius and abilities," wrote the American.
"I have read of a machine capable of advanced calculations at high speed, very accurate."
Dimetri got up from the sitting area and went to his desk, upon returning he threw a pamphlet onto the table in front of where the tall American sat.
The visitor looked at it.
"Read it." He scratched on the board and held it up to command action.
“All of it?” wrote his visitor.
Dimetri nodded.
He watched the man as he read. After a few pages he threw it down, then he wrote, "I’ll read it later, why is it so important?"
"This De Morgan and his group can build a machine that can perform the calculation. The only way he could write that paper is if he has seen an apparatus capable of such calculations or has the concept fully understood,"
“What can I do to facilitate this requirement?”
“Find Augustus De Morgan and get him to build us a calculating machine. See if we can get the design so I can incorporate it into the lens focus movement. If it can do what he says, we have found the solution.” Dimetri noted.
The visitor reviewed the back of the pamphlet.
"It states DeMorgan is a professor at London University. England is my next stop so I can reach out to the man and see about your request."
Dimetri raised a finger in the air, his signal of just remembering something. He scribbled and handed the visitor the board where he had written, "Another thing, there have been transport issues, Traveler twenty-eight has requested a meeting with Traveler one."
His guest nodded in acknowledgement.
8
Saturday the 9th of March
10:05 a.m. Gilchrist Manor
Rose pulled into the Manor drive in her latest purchase; a Swift Zephyr cabriolet. It was too cold to have the soft top down; the fancy carriage included a cabin heating feature to circulate steam through a cabin radiator on chilly days like today. The dual exhaust blasted soot and coal smoke in a long plume behind the carriage.
Road conditions were wet, she had no intention of pushing her new vehicle to see what it could do. The floor manager at Swift told her it had thirty percent more power and was capable of attaining speeds of fifty miles per hour. Maybe in the spring she would plan a tour of the country roads near Gilchrist and open her up, but not today. Rose came to a stop in the drive as a footman approached the door to open it, Brentwood appeared at the portico shortly after to greet her.
"Ms. Caldwell, it is a pleasure to have you back at the Manor," said Brentwood.
Rose had sent a wire-type to Brentwood after Lorelei showed up in London so upset. Rose was in search of his even-keeled assessment on Preston. He had indicated the situation was dire, and Preston was now under the in-home care of a Dr. Gotlieb Burckhardt. The Doctor’s team had taken up residence in one of the property’s cottages. At Brentwood's suggestion, Rose sent a follow-up wire-type to Lord Gilchrist to arrange a visit. Gilchrist responded with an invitation to lunch at the Manor.
"How is Preston?" Asked Rose, as she made her way into the foyer and removed her cashmere wool coat with a beaver collar. Underneath she was attired in essentially a man's suit, no corset, formal yet audacious.
"I have not seen Master Preston for several days, he is at the cottage for treatments," said Brentwood, Rose could read the concern in the butler's face.
"Sister, oh excuse me; it’s now Constable Caldwell, how nice of you to visit," Preston’s father greeted her. He looked much thinner than she remembered.
"Lord Gilchrist, a pleasure to see you, just Rose will do. I so want to hear about your exploits these past four years," Rose was happy to reconnect with the elder Lord.
"And I yours, from the papers it looks like you have been out adventuring yourself, becoming a celebrity in London and on the Continent," said the old man.
"Any exploits are more the fantasy of the columnists, I have just been trying to do my part for Queen and country, your Lordship," replied Rose.
Lord Gilchrist frowned on the thought. "Newspapermen! On a more personal topic, I have no doubt that my son is top of your mind. Preston is infirmed and will not be joining us," shared Gilchrist.
"I am concerned, and I want to help. Lorelei came to see me, she is anxious," said Rose.
"Dr. Traube is a lovely lady and has been a pleasant addition to the house. Frankly, I believe my son would no longer be with us if it were not for her. Her father and I don't necessarily approve of how the two have been conducting the courtship, but we do both approve of the match. All involved want to get him ship-shape so we can see them through to holy matrimony. Now she is a bit high strung and histrionic, but her affection for my son is real and his horrific condition would send any woman into such states, present company excluded,"
Rose had forgotten how the Lord Gilchrist show could take over a room. If he kept this up, he might be adding getting punched by London's only woman constable to his list of achievements.
Gilchrist continued, "Well, I have instructed Brentwood to prepare a lunch fit for a London celebrity and I have asked Dr. Burckhardt to join us, so you can discuss Preston's condition and he can answer all of your questions. I am sure the Doctor will be interested in your opinion given your history with Preston."
"I appreciate that Lord Gilchrist, as much as I enjoy your hospitality the purpose of my visit is to see how I can help Preston get back to full health and remove Lorelei from my house." said Rose. The Lord chuckled as he ushered Rose into the sitting room.
"I will introduce you to the Doctor," offered Gilchrist. There in the sitting room, a slight gentleman with a pointed beard and round spectacles sat near the fireplace. The man stood upon their entrance to the room.
"Dr. Burckhardt, may I introduce Miss Rose Caldwell," said Gilchrist motioning toward Rose with aplomb.
"Pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Caldwell," said the Doctor taking Rose’s hand and giving it a kiss.
"Pleased to meet you, Doctor," Rose replied, attempting to be cordial.
"Dr. Burckhardt is here at my invitation and on the recommendation of Baron von Traube, after the excellent work he did with Professor Maxwell."
"What is the status of Professor Maxwell’s health?" asked Rose.
"I have released him from my care, we had excellent results returning him from a catatonic state through the use of electrotherapy. I believe he will have a full recovery," stated Burckhardt with confidence.
"I don't know if you were aware of this Doctor, but I was present when Professor Maxwell went into shock. I believe Preston’s circumstances may differ greatly from the Professor's diagnosis."
"You are correct, Maxwell was catatonic and unresponsive. Mr. Gilchrist suffers from delusional hallucinations, a much more serious condition as the subject can exhibit violent behavior and be a danger to himself and others," posited the Doctor.
"Lord Gilchrist, luncheon is prepared in the dining room," announced Brentwood.
The party moved into the dining room, one end of the large table was elaborately set for the three of them. Rose and the Doctor sat through the courses listening to Gilchrist’s adventures in the jungle, near-death experiences and how he found the lost city of the Olmec. Throughout this time Brentwood and his staff delivered a lunch that made Rose wonder if she would ever need to eat again. Once she had consumed enough food and bravado from the Lord she tried to turn the conversation.
"So, tell us, Lord Gilchrist, are you back for good?" asked Rose.
"I expect that the Royal Geographic Society will look for me to take an exploration campaign back to the Olmec City, but I don't know if I have another expedition in me. Before I can make any plans, I still have to complete my notes on the objects we found and be certain that Preston is on the mend. After luncheon, I will show you some pieces I brought back. I really need the Doctor here to work his miracles, as Preston along with Dr. Traube had been instrumental in deciphering this lost language, however, he has even lost the capacity for his obsessive research."
That was a bad sign thought Rose. All throughout her acquaintance with Preston and his companion, his obsession with arcane research was paramount. To hear things were so bad worried her more.
"Can I see Preston?"
The Doctor shook his head. "The situation is best served by my staff. Mr. Gilchrist is not at his best, we are early in his treatment and his behavior can be startling."
"Doctor, I am a former nun and have worked in some of the worse asylums in England. Not only do I have experience in these matters, I may be able to bring him some comfort," offered Rose.
"Ms. Caldwell, my intention is not only to reduce his symptoms but to cure his mental defect. What you call comfort reinforces the habits of the brain," said the Doctor.
