by J M Bannon
Alfie brooded off stage peering around the edge of the stage to see the standing ovation Azul was receiving.
“I wanted to introduce myself, I am Luca Giuliani,” the man yelled into Alfie’s ear to be heard over the crowd still roaring and clapping.
Alfie turned to the man, “Oh, I know you sir, or at least know of your accomplishments. It is a pleasure to finally meet you. I was absolutely enthralled by your paper. The work you are doing to augment the properties of metals is groundbreaking, and my head was spinning with thoughts as to how I might apply some of the techniques you have developed.”
"Mr. Fletcher, it is you who should have all the adulation. Listen to that crowd. You have changed the mechanical sciences forever. Your mechanist man will be listed with all of history’s greatest inventions,” congratulated Luca.
“Well, yes, however, I would say that my work had a selfish purpose,” holding up his mechanical hand. “But now with the culmination of a fully articulating man, I suppose the applications are endless. I must admit I really wasn’t that ambitious, it was solely to help my collaborator solve a problem."
“I appreciate your modesty, but I recognize your genius and would like you to join me, Sir, in the next great advancement; a melding of our work. I have a laboratory at Haddon Hall where I’m working on my newest innovations in aethereal materials. I would like to collaborate with you to create a second-generation mechanist man, one made of my aetheric alloy,” Giuliani requested.
Alfie was overwhelmed by the offer, “Here comes the hero of the hour, we can ask him if he is interested.”
Azul made his way off the stage towards Alfie.
"Azul, old boy, this is Mr. Giuliani, a metallurgist of extraordinary talent. He has offered to work with us at his laboratory up north. This would be an excellent opportunity. I imagine we could improve mobility and get you to be a little less imposing,” said Alfie.
“More human looking or at least, and able to see a regular tailor? I have to tell you gentlemen in my day in Samarkand, I was looked to not only for my understanding of the mystical arts, but for my taste in clothes, food, and women!” beamed Azul.
The three chuckled.
“Mr. Hassan it would be my pleasure to work with your friend and build you a form that all of the women of the world would swoon over. Maybe not in the usual way, but in form and function. We will make you as handsome as a Greek statue,” said Giuliani.
“Mr. Giuliani has found my weakness — vanity. That shortcoming has stayed with me long after I was ripped from my old body,” admitted Azul, then he turned to Alfie, “I must be clear to you while I am grateful for what you have done, I am not an experiment to live in a laboratory. I have obligations and tasks at hand to help the good Sister.”
“Sir, I don’t mean to be rude, but we are looking for Mechanist Fletcher to join us, not you. While you are welcome to visit, and we would at times need you for lack of a better term; fittings,” Giuliani turned to Fletcher, “the position is for you. My patron has an agreement with Chairman Hilton and the Sheffield chapter to support my work and the work of several other leaders of the mechanical sciences. The work conditions there will be like none you have ever experienced. Supported with your own lab and staff, a generous stipend and surrounded by similar geniuses working to advance mechanics,” clarified Giuliani.
“Well, sign me up,” agreed Alfie shaking Mr. Giuliani’s hand.
14
Saturday the 25th of May, 1861
8:00 A.M. Hawkin's House, Paddington, England
Enzo took to gardening most days it helped him stay contemplative. He needed more help than those around him knew. They thought he was just fastidious and concerned with the condition of the property. While Rose was particular about the house, she didn’t seem to give much thought about the grounds.
He sensed Angelica’s approach. His mind’s eye saw her as a stench; a black cloud. He had little patience for pagans. Frankly, he had little time either for those of the Church who diluted the mystery of his faith with the dogma of man.
“Are we to meet?” asked Angelica.
He removed his gloves and gardener’s apron. His clothes were simple: a servant’s shirt, waistcoat and dark trousers. Although he was known as the Abbot-less Monk, he did not dress like a monk or priest.
“Yes,” he replied short and curt.
“Listen, old priest, I see nothing will come of this, I am here as a courtesy to my host,” Angelica said with a sigh.
“Well there we agree, nothing good will come of this. Your base beliefs are so lost that I have little hope in you seeing the error of your ways,” replied the old man.
“Let me ask you this, how does one who says he is — from all accounts the only one that understands the True Way, reconcile himself to be in the home of a fallen nun, who actively practices the eldritch ways?” challenged Angelica.
“A higher purpose, I have been directed here to guide and mentor her.”
“And now you think you can be my mentor? Do you know how absurd that is? I am the first voodoo queen in five generations. I have reclaimed my crown from beyond the grave and stand before you. Do you see that I am equal to your Pope in title and as powerful as your savior in my resurrection?” bragged Angelica. Her garments began to reflect her mood going from white lace to a cloudy grey of swirling patterns.
“I don’t doubt your power. I just question if it is for ill or for good. To claim equality with the Pope, just makes me question you more. You assume that I hold some allegiance to the Church, I am Gnostic Enochian if my beliefs are to be labeled,” Enzo pronounced loudly.
“I don’t understand why Rose has you around? You’re abrasive and judgmental,” Angelica questioned.
“I am abrasive, this world is abrasive. All that is material is a travesty to our spirit and true selves. This shell I stand in,” Enzo slapped his chest then he stomped his foot, “or the earth we stand on, all abrasive. You should know this better than anyone, if you’ve been to the other side.”
“You do not think you're here to teach me your ways, old man,”
“I can’t teach the unteachable —” before he could finish his sentence the heat of the conversation was gone. There was just calm, and he could feel the firm grip of a hand on his wrist. When Enzo looked down, he saw Pāora’s huge hand wrapped around his wrist.
His eyes followed Pāora’s arm to see the big Māori holding Angelica’s wrist, and she too had turned to look at him. Pāora turned from side to side looking at them. Enzo could feel the calm flow into him as his anger at Angelica flowed into Pāora.
“You two are going to upset the neighbors,” Pāora counseled. “Everyone here has one thing in common, we want to be here for Rose. Some of us know why we are here for her, others don’t, but that doesn’t mean that they are any less important in helping her.”
The words rang true.
“My apologies Miss let’s go to the theurgy chamber and see how I can be of service to you,” replied Enzo.
* * *
8:20 A.M. The Theurgy Pool Hawkin's House, London, England
Enzo wore only a robe.
Angelica came in fully dressed, with her Ju-Ju staff.
“I don’t think you’ll need the staff,” said Enzo.
“It is the focus of my power. I used it when I did the ceremony with Preston,” she replied.
“I understand, I wish to show you another way. Let me just say it took me quite some time to get this pool clean from that muck you had filled it with,” said the old man undoing the tie on his robe, “The pool works best when you are submerged. Nude.”
“I am naked, what you see as clothes is the ichor I control,” as she slipped into the pool her dress did not seem to get wet or absorb the water.
Enzo was uncomfortable with nudity, so he was happy she did not have to disrobe. He tried to keep his modesty as he dropped his robe and lowered into the theurgy pool. The room was tranquil with the sound of the recirculating water pouring from a pitcher held by a cher
ub carved of marble. He looked at Angelica and smiled.
“The theurgy pool has common uses across many occult and spiritual systems. The basis in western studies goes back thousands of years. The practice here uses noble metals, the universal element of water and connection to a gemulet. This particular gemulet was crafted by me,” He held up a simple silver circle with a green stone in its center. He dropped it into the pool breaking the surface of the water with a kerplunk. The amulet lazily wobbled down through the water to the bottom of the pool.
“Rose has a gemulet embedded at the bottom of the pool, but I have it isolated to make sure you find my gemulet when you project. When you arrive inside that space, it will seem real, but your physical body will remain in the pool while you project onto the immaterial.”
Enzo adjusted his position, placing his hands on the rings of inlaid gold and silver that circled the pool. He closed his eyes.
“I will first teach you the words, the meditation needed to project astrally. This could take some time for you to perfect your skill. It took me months to attain the mental state —”
“Are you ready old man?”
He opened his eyes to give her a scolding and saw the pool was black and a tendril of this tar-like substance reached out of the pool to the Ju-Ju staff against the wall. As the tendril wrapped around the staff, his mind went black as if he was falling off a cliff into an abyss.
When he came to, he was in a primitive village in a dense jungle. The village was situated next to a river at the foot of a waterfall. He got up from his hands and knees and saw a tall black woman standing before the waterfall.
“Angelica?”
“Yes,” said the woman, “This is my village.”
He didn’t immediately recognize her because his only experience was with her possession of the French girl’s body, not her original form. The one she naturally projected when in an astral form, “Yes this is a simplified construct you see it as a place where you feel safe.”
“I’ve never experienced anything like that, it was if you pulled me through, and you didn’t have to say an incantation?”
“It’s different for me now. Something simple like this it takes no more than a thought.”
“Simple! I have worked for years with students who couldn’t project, and with a thought you pulled us through,” Enzo couldn’t believe it.
“Yes, all your jabbering and history doesn’t change that you wanted us to project our spirits into that amulet of yours. So, I did it. What is it that Rose believes you have to offer me? My beliefs are strong old man, don’t think that I can be converted to your ways.”
He let go. Pāora’s words were still in his head. He just decided to give the energy from his heart and look to have it turned to words of guidance to be what Angelica needed right now.
“When I came to see Miss Caldwell, it was not because I was to be her mentor. I sought what she had,” said Enzo, as he walked beside her towards the waterfall, “This is what I know of purpose — sometimes obsession gets confused with purpose. Mine did.”
Angelica looked down at him. She was a foot taller than the slight man.
“My Abbot called me to his office one day. He said that I was to travel to Vatican City to help on a particular project. As an obedient friar, I went. There I was brought not to see his Holiness but deep below into the vaults,” said Enzo.
“I was shown a chest of scrolls. An ancient language that none of the scholars could decipher. I was proud that I was selected to help my brothers, that I was seen as an expert. I began my work to find languages that could help me to decode the documents.” Enzo explained.
“For months I worked, then years. I traveled to monasteries around the world and combed ancient texts for some key. Then I had a breakthrough, I found glyphs that were similar to the scrolls and I had my key. Upon my return, I began decoding the scrolls. All my deciphering resulted in nonsense. I wondered if there was some cipher underlying the ancient language.
Then it dawned on me, no code would break them. These scrolls were the Enochian verses. Ancient scriptures handed to man in the language of the angels. The tongue that god and his kindred used. The universal language of man until the tower of Babel fell. I would never be able to understand these works. I went to one of the Inquisitors and told him of my theory. He confirmed that the scrolls had been found in the ruins of Carthage and that he believed these scrolls to be written by the hands of angels.” The monk took a breath.
“That began a quest for an object known as the Rod of Raziel. I dedicated my life to finding this object. The fable was that it was created by God’s scribe and the one who possessed the item would have the gift of understanding. Seeing this object became my obsession. The more I pursued my goal the further I moved away from my responsibilities and commitments to my Order. I didn’t see it because of my fixation on the target.”
“So, you came to her home to steal the Rod,” said Angelica.
“No, it wasn’t like that, this was more of a need or compulsion to see something to its end. I tracked down the Rod and found it being used by Rose. In my search, I had learned much about it and its uses. Now I was here, and it was in my grasp. Rose didn’t know at the time, but I had the scrolls with me. You see I was the only one still intent on decoding these scrolls. Hence, I became the Abbotless Monk. My Abbot had offered my services to his Holiness, and the Holy See had lost track of me in its growing bureaucracy, but that isn’t the point of this story.
“There is a point I hope?” begged Angelica.
Enzo held his venom, “Yes, months back I secretly entered Rose’s library and took the Rod. Let me say I was full of fear and trepidation seeing it sit in that box resting on the blood red velvet. Would I be incinerated by touching it? I grabbed it and nothing. Then I went to the scrolls, I removed one and used the Rod as a reading guide. I concentrated, focusing on glyphs waiting for the understanding to come, and then it came,” he said.
“And…”
“I am nothing more than a courier. I am not the one to read the writing on that paper. I am not the one to share with the Pope what the angels said to the first men. I understood my purpose was to bring the Rod and the scrolls together; and help Rose as she is to be the one. It is not that I disdain your beliefs it is that I see myself in you; the obsession,” said Enzo crouching down to look at his reflection in the river.
“I can’t stop now. I don’t know how long I have, and it was my stupidity that resulted in my son becoming a hostage of Caiaphas,” she said.
“And like me, you could be so determined that you are blinded to what your real purpose is. Could it be what Pāora said that we’re all here to be of service to Rose? Or in my case, I find that my purpose isn’t to be the courier of the Enochian scrolls, but instead, I am here to teach you, or even more humbling, learn from a Voodooist.” He could tell from the water’s reflection that Angelica was looking at him.
“As much as I hate to admit it your story has wisdom, Monk and I need someone who understands the scars that stubbornness can cause,” Angelica admitted, turning away from the river. “Now let me show you why this is my safe place.”
15
Saturday the 7th of June 1861
5:40 P.M. Gilchrist Manor, England
“Well, would you look at that?” blathered Elmore, wide-eyed.
Rose looked up from the road to see the Esperance over the tree line. It was by far the most audacious example of the Traube fortune. An extremely large, in fact, the largest of private air yachts.
Rose had invited Elmore to accompany her to the party and thought a leisurely drive would be an excellent way to spend some time with the American and show him the English countryside.
“That belongs to Lorelei’s father. I’ve never been aboard, but they say it makes the Peregrine look third class,” said Rose after glancing up from the road to look at the airship.
“I suspected that her family had money given the popularity of Traube’s patent elixirs, but I h
ad no idea they were in a position to buy a fleet of airships,” replied Elmore.
“He is well to do in a family of successful alchemists. Funny thing he isn’t all that good in his chosen field of knowledge, that ingenuity skipped his generation and went straight to Lorelei. Baron von Traube has been so successful because of his affable nature and flair for promotion,” continued Rose as she turned the car into the drive. Rose slowed the carriage observing the road to the house was congested with steam carriages.
“Looks like we weren’t the only ones deciding to out to the country rather than taking the train,” said Elmore.
“Sign of the times here, plentiful coal makes steam livery economical compared to animal driven,” said Rose.
“Maybe here but where I come from, there is always sagebrush for my horse where there may not be a stick of wood or a lump of coal for a hundred miles. I will admit, however that I do enjoy a drive in the country with you Miss Caldwell.”
“Even when it takes you away from your sideshow of curiosities?” asked Rose.
Elmore chuckled “I don’t know if I’m cut out for being the circus impresario. I love rustling up the crowd but it’s the day to day that I don't abide; you know - new town every week, bearded lady fighting with the fat lady, and then every day some new orphan kid shows up after running away to join the circus. That part really kills me telling those kids we are all full up of urchins,”
“So, what will you do?”
“I thought about taking some time off traveling the world, maybe go abroad to see a girl I fancy,” said Elmore.
“Interesting what’s she like?” asked Rose giving him a quick glance to see if she could read some reaction.
“Well, she is quite pretty, but she has a style of her own. Some say she is a bit bizarre to the point she might be featured as one of the acts in my circus,” said Elmore.
