by J M Bannon
"I didn't beat you," Allard retorted.
"No. No, you didn't; that's why I asked before you do something stupid, like beat me some more. You speak pretty good English for a Frenchie and based on the black garb I suspect you're one of those Necronists," Elmore slurred.
Allard looked down, realizing he still wore his Seer habit.
"Thought so! So, you have a secret base over here?" asked Elmore.
"I don't follow."
"Oh sorry. I'm just putting the pieces together. It wasn't hard to conclude that all those people you murdered on that airship were killed the same way as those in Colorado, so I called the British police. They sent over the English police and three charming ladies." Elmore's eyebrows bounced and then he winked, "Are Necronists like priests?"
"No, we do not take an oath of celibacy, if that is what you mean," snapped Allard.
"No offense meant, it was just for my own edification. Anyways, there is this one quite eye-catching, she’s some kind of Metaphysicist and she pinned you fellas the minute she saw that red glowing gadget of yours,"
"Will you shut up?" barked Allard.
"Excuse me, I think I have a right to talk here. See; you’ve come up here for one of three reasons; to question me, so in that regard you want me to talk. Or to kill me, in that case, I don't give a fuck what you want, as these are my last minutes on earth and I'll do as I please."
"And the third one?"
"You're here to turn yourself in, free me and ask for leniency," said Elmore.
Allard chuckled.
"Number two huh," said the Marshal.
"Yes,"
"Figures, I mean why stop at two hundred?" Elmore mused out loud.
"Did the man out there beat you because of your mouth going?" asked Allard.
The Marshal smiled. "I'd like to think it was just because he is a mean prick who didn't know better but, yea I think I may have provoked some undue aggression. Anyways, I was telling you about this Filly, how she has your device and knows you Necronists are behind the mass murders and now is on her way to France making this an international issue with the British and the Americans."
"This has nothing to do with the Necronists," replied Allard.
"So, you're some kind of turncoat selling their ideas, and somewhat fucked once your ghost chasing cult finds out you have been sharing trade secrets."
"Oh, they know." Henri thought about how little this man knew of the Guild's retribution.
"Figures. It's tough to outrun the wire-type. Used to be you could come out West and disappear, but here we are now with the whole continent connecting with wire and rail. I'd say there really is no place to hide these days, certainly not when they start printing your picture in all newspapers as the killer behind the Zeus Colonial. Harpsichord likely won't even get a mention, no one cares about some frontier town but all those fancy people on that fancy airship …” Elmore trailed off.
Allard sat down on a couch under the long window with a view of the factory floor.
"Smell getting to you? That's the worst part of being here. Don't get me wrong I didn’t enjoy that ass whooping I took, but the rotting meat smell is unbearable. What the hell are you all up to down there?"
"It's the slaughterhouse where they break down the cattle," said Allard.
"Break down, that’s a fancy way to say kill and dismember? You don't look like the kill and dismember type. Now, Leary out there, he’s a mean Son of a Bitch, he'll kill a man and not think a thing of it. But you, I can tell you're not a killer and you're in over your head. I've seen it before, you get swept down a river of circumstance when all you wanted to do was just get across to the other side, but the current is too strong, and you can see that waterfall coming. I got rope here I can throw you, all you need to do is untie it from my hands," Quentin stated.
"That's poetic,"
"I thought so, but you get my point, things are out of control. The authorities are on your doorstep. The folks you are in league with don't trust you, so they sent you up here to kill me and get real blood on your hands."
Allard looked up at the American.
"Oh, you didn't know, did you? What's your name, Son? You may as well tell me if you're going to help us both out, and if you kill me it goes to the grave," said the Marshall.
"Henri, Henri Allard”
"Mine's Elmore Quentin, US Federal Marshal, Colorado Territory,"
"But you said we were in Omaha, that's not in Colorado, is it?" Allard was confused.
"Right, but I'm a Federal Marshal. Federal, means we go where we please. Henri, you're getting me off topic here. We were discussing how you don't know shit about a conspiracy. You're new to this and now facing the classic partner squeeze where they require you to do the dirty work. Think about it, that's not what you joined up for is it? Leary out there could easily finish the job of killing me. Hell, he would enjoy it, likely so much that the dumb fuck would brag about it in a bar and get caught, but I digress again. You see Henry it's primary school lessons for a criminal enterprise to have the weak link, usually, someone duped into the conspiracy, commit murder. It's not about your loyalty to the Cause, your boss is painting you into a corner of guilt. I mean really, Henry, I thought you Necronists were educated men, able to look into the future and talk to ghosts," finished Elmore.
"Is this what you do, Marshal; talk your way out of situations, coerce people to do your will? Because I don't believe you really care what happens to me. I am at least that smart," answered Allard.
"Like I said, either you're the guy that lets me go or the guy that kills me. I figure you fellas are up to something much bigger and Harpsichord was an accident. While I want to hold those responsible for that loss of life to account. I also see there may be a bigger game afoot and if this is some plot you have cooked up with secessionists, then I have to do what I can to stop it. If that means saving you from the gallows to save hundreds of innocent lives then I'm prepared to cut that deal," offered Elmore.
Henri sat in thought, he hated listening to this American. Allard's English wasn't great and Elmore was annoying him with his comments and scaring him with the truth he laced into them. He was terrified, not of this silly Marshall, but of getting trapped between Caiaphas and the Necronists; both would deliver a retribution far worse than being hung from a gallows tree. "I have options, you'll see." Allard stood and stormed out of the office and out onto the landing.
"I thought you were going to finish off the Marshal?" said the burly woodsman with an Irish accent.
"I am, then I got in there and realized I have no weapon," replied Allard.
Leary reached into his coat and pulled a pistol out of his holster. "I expect you're not the type to stab a fella," handing him the pistol butt first. "Merci," replied Allard.
Henri looked at the nickel -plated pistol. “Just pull the hammer back?" asked Allard.
"Yeah, pull the trigger slowly and be ready for the kick," said Leary.
Allard thumbed the hammer back and rested his finger on the trigger as he looked at the pistol.
“You wanna be careful where you point that, its got a hair trigger,” said Leary.
The gun boomed as Allard pulled the trigger. At that close range, the hole it blew in Leary was immense and lifted him off his feet. Bits of Leary and the bullet went flying through the window of the office.
"Well, I didn't foresee that Henri, but I see your rationale, he wouldn't let the two of us just walk out of here." yelled Quentin from inside the office.
Allard took Leary's other pistol and tucked it into the sash that held his coat closed, then walked down the stairs.
"Henri, Henry ole boy, best if you untie me, now!" Allard heard the Marshal yelling.
At the foot of the stairs, he moved down the manufacturing line opening valves, twisting controls, throwing levers. Steam coursed into the system, belts moved, wheels spun and bison carcasses came out of the coolers on hooks feeding into the line. He turned all the controls for filling the vat with ich
or and charging the rejuvenation electrodes; the dynamos whirred to life, and the machine began the process of fabricating his Homunculus. Looking at the Nexus gate at the end he noted the number on the clockwork mechanism, the number twenty.
The factory floor was deafening as it chugged and hissed through the process. His creatures began to come out of the tanks at the end of the machine in the pen alive and angry.
He continued down into the laboratory walking past Bernard and the American. “What’s going on?” demanded Bernard as Allard walked up to the Nexus gate and pulled the chain to activate the door.
Allard lifted the gun in his hand, he fired three times, hitting both the men.
His first shot took Bernard between the eyes and the next two hit the American in the center of his chest. The range was so close that even as inexperienced as he was, he couldn’t miss.
“Au revoir a la Ouest,” he said while waiting for the portal. Before he stepped in he saw a stool and grabbed it with his other hand.
* * *
3:15 p.m. The Nexus
Allard set the lab stool down on the floor of the Nexus vestibule and climbed up on it. He teetered as he stepped on to the stool but it was high enough that he could easily reach the ceiling and steady himself. He pushed up on the panel he had noticed earlier, and it gave way. Allard was surprised how easily it moved, just assuming a system as sophisticated as the Nexus gateway would be built more solidly.
It took an effort to pull himself up through the small hatch overhead and as he squirmed and pulled, the edges of the opening scratched his arms and stomach and caught on his habit. His feet dangling down through the opening, he paused to catch his breath, looking around him. The space above the gateway was a full size room it was filled with flywheels and cogs, it was as if he had shrunk to the size of a mouse and entered the mechanism of giant clock. At the center was a large glass bulb that held pulsing alchemical gases. It was mesmerizing.
He levered himself fully into the space and stood looked around for a way out of the maze of equipment. He eased his way between the workings and found a walkway between the turning cogs. He followed it to a short set of steps that led to a room with an expanse of windows looking out over water. He was on an island or a shoreline looking over a lake. Situated beside the window was a long control panel and sitting with his back to Henri was a brown haired man working at a complex control station.
The man turned and jumped, startled. His hands went up in the air. Allard noticed is heavy unkempt beard and his expensive silk pajamas and robe. Allard realized he had a gun in his hand and pointed at the stranger.
"Parlez-vous Français?"
The man nodded. Henry slipped the gun in his sash around his waistband and undid the top button of his habit.
"Sorry about the gun, I had a little problem at the factory. You can put your hands down, I won't hurt you, we are both working with Caiaphas. There has been a change in plans and I needed to have access to the gates."
The man picked up a slate and wrote, “I do not speak but I understand your words. Where is Caiaphas?"
"Don't worry, he'll be here soon. He sent me ahead to get things going. First, I need to recover something I lost, so I will need your help."
32
Saturday the 30th of March
9:35 p.m. Hawkin’s House
Dolly pulled up in front of Hawkin's House, he had borrowed a station carriage to get around. He came to a jerky stop in front of Rose's home. He disengaged the drive train by moving the transmission lever, and the machine responded with a loud ratcheting and grinding noise. Looking out the window he could see the Constables watching and chuckling. "Fuck you, you wretched machine," Williamson said, getting out leaving the steam carriage in the middle of the street. He thought it would expedite his day to drive himself, but it took longer and stressed his nerves.
"One of you park that thing somewhere," he barked at the Constables. One of the Bobbies sprinted towards the carriage, when he turned he saw the car had idled down the street. The other Cop worked to hold in his laughter.
Dolly shook his head and went to the door. The crowds had cleared from the earlier ballyhoo and he was happy the reporters had dispersed, more so because of his stunt leaving the Carriage without the brake engaged.
He climbed the three steps to the door and before he could knock Pāora had opened the door. "Welcome Detective, not sure where to place another policeman but come in."
"You realize you work for an officer of the law?"
"Never think of her as a Peeler," said the Māori.
"Haven't heard that one in some time," retorted Dolly under his breath.
"Miss Rose, Detective Williamson is here," the Pacific Islander announced.
"Dolly, you all settled at home and checked in with the Bosses down at headquarters?" asked Rose.
"I am. Good evening, Ms. Du Moya," said Dolly to resurrected Voodoo Queen. "What developments do you have here?"
"Some smashing ones!" Rose guided Dolly over to Fletcher and Edison's contraption. Pointing to it she continued, "The boys whipped this up while you were washing your whites. Now they can't agree on how it works, but they figured out a way to help. It is a location device and may help us find where your fugitive has gone."
"Really how?" Dolly exclaimed, this was the best news he had all day.
"You see these gauges?"
Dolly nodded in agreement taking out his reading spectacles and sitting down in front of the panel.
"The one in the middle is your compass; it points north so you can get a geographical reference. This one here always points to the clock we picked up in France." Rose described the apparatus with excitement.
"So, what is the hitch?" asked Dolly peering through his glasses and inspecting the instrument panel thoroughly.
"Well this is where we will need a little help. After we build two more of these gizmos, we will need to place them some distance away from each other and move them, then compare the readings."
"So, what you're getting to Caldwell, is…" urged Dolly.
"We would need airships to fly patterns taking readings then compare the instruments corresponding readings to plot the source location," Rose explained, smiling.
"My first thought is to talk to the Air Service, as well as request the Zeus Airship Line to assist, and add these on to their ships.”
"That's a cracking idea, Dolly, they have routes all over. I would have to see what it takes for the boys to make these up but seeing as they whipped it up in an afternoon without Lorelei or my help, it couldn't be too challenging," said Rose.
"Where is the Doctor?" asked the Detective.
"She went out to check on Preston at Gilchrist Manor," added Rose, as she stood to ask her science team to join them.
"It would be nice to hear what she has to say about this thing," said Dolly. "There's another source for airships. How many does her family own?"
"Are you that afraid to ask the Admiralty for some ships?"
“A little, because this one will need to go to the Prime Minister. He is no fan of the Americans, so he may be reticent to grant assistance. Rose, you never said what this third gauge does, the one that just stopped spinning," Dolly said. He looked up at her for an answer seeing her wide-eyed and pale.
"That's the direction of the connection signal. Someone is trying to connect to the clock that's in my basement," Rose announced, sprinting out of the room, slipping on the floor in her stocking feet as she made haste towards the study. "Pāora! Enzo!" Rose shouted.
Dolly jumped up and ran after Rose. Angelica stood up, Dolly stopped. "Best you stay here until we know what we're dealing with."
Dolly went into the study and saw the steel cylinder door open to the spiral staircase. He ran down and caught up to her in the Reliquary as his boots provided better grip than shoeless Rose. He passed her in the hall to the studio arcana and came to an abrupt stop when he heard a shot.
Out of the holster came the Colt. He spun the cylinder
to an arcane load, he would not take his chances with regular bullets in Rose's basement. He had also upped his load to four of the arcane shot rather than three.Dolly put his hand out urging Rose to stay back.
Dolly had his shoulder to the wall just outside of the entrance and could hear the high state of tension in the room on the other side. "Oh, dear Jesus there is no need to be shooting anyone," someone said.
"You, pick up that device and bring it here," it was English with a French accent. - Allard.
Dolly stepped into the doorway pistol up; there was Allard with a gun pointed at one man and Tommy walking with the soul magnet towards the gate opening. Dolly didn't have a clear shot, Tommy was in the way, but that didn't stop Allard from shooting at him. He spun back and ducked behind the wall, the shot came through the plaster just above his head.
Dolly looked around the door frame just in time to see Allard pull Tommy with the soul magnet through the gate. As he made his way into the room and two more shots came out from the gate. Through the eerie warbling sound of the portal, he heard, "Open door twenty."
On the ground lay the Constable assigned to this area. Next to him spattered with blood was the one-armed Mechanist, Fletcher. "Fletcher get out of here now!"
Alfie described the scene, "The clock projected a light, and the Necronist came through shooting. He wanted that contraption, and he took it along with Tommy."
"Get upstairs now!" shouted Dolly, his first instinct was to get everyone clear of danger. "Rose, the gate is still open," Dolly continued. They had a chance of apprehending Allard.
"Don't go through Dolly, let me get suited up and we can go through together."
"But what if it closes?"
"Then we go with our plan to triangulate on the source signal. He is likely just inside ready to pounce, and I don't even have shoes on! Well make it quick then. I'll wait here, Dolly commanded.
