by J M Bannon
“That’s not much help for a Dane flying a Swiss flagged ship, but I get your point. We are going to head straight down this catwalk, it ends in a hatch that opens into the smoke stack silo, there we can take stairs down to the engineering deck,” explained Reidun.
Rose followed the Captain, the tempo of the two walking caused the catwalk to sway on its guide wires.
The hatch was bigger than the one they had entered at the other end but not as big as a full bulkhead. Falk unlatched the door and spun the bolt open swinging the door in, then she stepped into the silo only to swing back in aggressively. Followed by a shot that ricocheted off the bulkhead frame. “They are on the stairs, making their way up” she whispered.
“Rose took a quick peek and saw three of the gas mask and leather clad invaders moving on the stairway, aiming pistols; she ducked back in as shots rang out.
“What now?” asked the Captain with her revolver drawn.
Let me take that mask and the paralytic grenades. You keep the lightening grenades, to give them a shock. Count down from ten dropping one of every three seconds, I am going to conjure up another light show. Rose drew out the Rod and centered her mind’s eye. “Please count out loud,” she asked.
"Three, Two, One," Rose heard in the background then the click of the grenade fuse being pulled. After the first bang, Rose jumped over the transom, looking down to assure her feet landed squarely on the circular stairwell winding along the silo wall.
She spoke loudly, “sanctus ignis” invoking the protection of Raziel’s holy fire, she strode down the stairwell towards the three identical soldiers. She could see the flash of the second grenade and heard the muffled thunderclap, but it was all muted and slow, her body bathed in protective white flames. She was standing in front of the three men when the third grenade blasted the room continuing to daze the three. Rose ripped the gas masks off each of them before pulling the pin on a gas grenade she dropped at their feet.
As the can popped, and the gas fumed up, the cloud sizzled and burnt in the luminescent ghostly flames of protection. Rose felt warm inside, not from the holy fire, but with pride of how well this was working. The three collapsed and tumbled down the metal stairs, until their tangled limbs wrapped in the banister supports finally stopping their descent. Her pleasure didn’t come from watching the three unconscious men flopping down the stairs like rag dolls, although that was amusing. Her pleasure came from her proficiency with summoning angelic influence into the mortal realm.
She turned and strode back up the stairs as her holy fire dissipated. “Tommy, Jules!” she yelled.
Tommy looked down from the top of the silo “We’re up here, is it safe to come out?”
“WAIT UNTIL THE GAS CLEARS, then it will be,” assured the ex-nun.
25
TUESDAY THE 13TH OF JUNE 1860
8:00 A.M. THE WORKSHOP OF PETROVITCH WATCH WORKS, ST. PETERSBURG, RUSSIA
Dmitrie Pavlovich looked through the magnifying lens of his spectacles at the clock complication. This was some of his best work, at least work that people knew about. A table clock for Czar Alexander. More than just a timepiece, it was an astronomical clock showing phases of the moon, planetary movement and zodiac positions. In addition, to celebrate the anniversary of the Czar’s coronation, a special movement was designed, a sequence that started a music box and miniature character movements once a year.
His boss, Ivan Petrovitch approached his workbench to examine the product. Ivan lowered a magnifying glass in front of his eye and squinted into the clockwork assembly. “Excellent, Dmitrie, I admire how you have streamlined the mechanism,” declared Mr. Petrovitch.
Dmitrie wrote on his slate board. Thank you, Mr. P I am eager to see His Majesties face when the clock strikes the hour of his coronation.
“Dmitrie, take pleasure in your workmanship and understand you could never be present at court. If it were not for my benevolence, you would be begging for potatoes on the streets. I can’t let the Emperor Alexander think a cripple worked on his clockwork,” explained Mr. P.
Dmitrie rubbed the writing off the slate with a rag and went back to his work.
“Don’t pout boy. Take joy from your creation and your patron’s benefit,” postulated Petrovich.
Ivan moved from the worktable over to another workers station. Dmitrie could not hear the conversation but stewed as he saw the two men smiling and chatting. He opened the side drawer and took out a small tin of Baron Traube’s pelletized throat liniment. Inside was a metal and crystal watch mechanism wrapped in linen.
He looked over to see that Mr. P was still occupied and then attached the mechanism from the lozenge tin onto the table clock. He had built a place for it but had not decided until now if he would put it in the clock. Out came the spacer and in went his special mechanism. His tiny screw driver screwed in the threaded posts that would hold the piece then he flicked the latch hammer that integrated his addition to the larger clockwork. Closing the fascia, he made sure the lens at the center of his mechanism lined up with the small view port.
He turned the key to wind the clock then set the time on the Czar Alexander clock to match that of his pocket watch. He looked at the picture of his mother inside its case. His father taught Dmitrie all about watchmaking using this pocket watch. His Papa would instruct him on the working gears inside, explaining the functions and interrelationship of the parts. Papa told stories of how the timepiece was a representation of your position in time and space. He told Dmitrie stories of how, with proper time tracking, trains ran on time and ships could navigate the open seas without landmarks. Time was the key to all navigation. Dmitrie had put his father’s claim to the test and proven him right.
Mr. P is a savant in the eyes of the Czar's court and I am left in the shadows while he basks in the splendid light of the Czar. Mr. P dogs get more recognition and affection than his employees and without us he would beg for potatoes.
9:00 AM BRIDGE of the Peregrine
Rose and Preston arrived onto the bridge after interrogating the soldiers tied up on the cargo deck, in an effort to get some answers. “I am sure they are Prussian,” asserted Preston.
“Neither of them said a word, what makes you think that?” asked Rose.
"When I spoke German, there was a glint of comprehension, versus that lost lamb look you get from someone who doesn’t understand the language," replied Preston.
“Like me,” retorted Rose.
Falk was in the pilot’s chair, “When you get a chance, can you relieve Tommy from watch.”
“All right” said Rose. She was feeling like part of the crew.
“How are the prisoners?” asked Falk.
"Not a word out of the three, I doubt even if we let the two Hermetic Brothers zap them we would get a word out of them." Preston speculated.
“Captain, let’s stick with the plan, proceed to Königsberg and hand over the lot to the authorities,” proposed Rose. Dolly would be proud of me.
“I will do more research on the Tablet,” added Preston as he walked off the bridge.
"That means he will stick his head back in the journal. I'll go check on Tommy," Rose said to Falk as she left the bridge.
Rose went to the back gangway where Tommy was on watch. He was looking at something through an eyeglass.
Rose put her hand on his shoulder and asked him “do you see something?”
“Yes, a massive ship, top of the line; it’s closing in on us. It’s not running a flag.” the young man reported.
“What do you mean, it’s not running a flag?” asked Rose.
“Airships, like naval ships, are chartered to a country. It provides certain rights and protections. See ours back here is Swiss, the great thing about it is the country is neutral and we can go into most ports of call with no trouble. The downside is the Swiss don’t have an air fleet so we can’t call upon them for protection, or expect them to patrol areas for piracy. Like right now, they won’t be coming to save the day,” explained Tommy as
he handed her the eyeglass.
Rose focused on the airship.
The vessel was about twice the size of the Peregrine, and closer to the ironclad designs of the Royal Air Service she had seen back home. It looked like a hybrid of a steamer and a dirigible, lacking the sizable fabric gas bag, instead incorporating the streamlined form of the ships using alchemical gas.
It had a predatory appearance, almost manta like with black- grey painting on its upper hull and a blue -grey mottled pattern on its lower side. Smoke billowed from its twin smokestacks. A double boiler ship could deliver more steam and had redundancy, another sign of an advanced design.
“She will soon be upon us, before we reach the coast,” added Tommy.
“Maybe they’re friends of the three gentlemen tied up in the cargo hold?” Rose chided.
“Likely, and if so they will try to kill some or all of us,” Tommy reminded Rose.
Lorelei came out onto the deck, she had on a heavy flight jacket, a shearling pilots cap and goggles, she looked just like a lifetime flyer. “What’s new out here?” asked Lorelei.
Rose and Tommy just gawked at her. "Well by the look on your faces, whatever is new it's not good." replied Lorelei to their stare.
“Without a doubt,” replied Tommy, “there is a ship, one built for speed, following our course; we’re in visual range, there will be no losing them.” Our boiler is at capacity, driving steam to those old propeller blades, but they are no match for the engines of that ship.”
“I’ll let the Captain know,” Rose said as she made haste inside. On her way through she spotted Preston sitting in the galley. He had removed the journal from Rose’s contraption, and placed both hands flat on the pages, with his eyes closed. “Preston?”
His eyes opened, "Rose, you gave me a start."
“I meant too,” she said smiling.
He took his hands off the book, “I meant to thank you for your help finding Lorelei.”
“You're my dear friend, family really, and you have always helped me. I have to say, I don’t think I did all that much,” added Rose.
“By escorting me out of London, and providing the support of someone I could trust, it was what I needed to leave the country. My biggest fear was taking one step out of the house. Knowing that the first part of my journey ended with you welcoming me into your home got me to take that step out onto my drive and into that car. Without that we would not be where we are today. Thank you,” gushed Preston.
Rose wasn't sure if she had ever heard this heartfelt tone from Gilchrist before. “You seem much better, more at peace,” she added.
“The attack at the bazaar had a deep effect on me, that coupled with being away from the journal created some open space between Azul and I and weakened the bond. For the first time in a decade I feel like I have clarity and some level of serenity. It has its costs, I don’t have the same capacity to retain knowledge like I did, but that is a small price to pay to getting my life back,” explained Preston.
“Well, be careful that book is a slippery slope,” Rose gave the tome a serious glare.
“When we get to Königsberg, I ask that you stick around while we sort this out,” Preston suggested.
“Preston, this sounds like a political thing, not something up my alley. I need to get back to London, I have a boss now and a responsibility to Violet.”
“And your niece, and to a bunch of other people that need you to fight for them when they can’t fight for themselves. This is your alley. No one else goes there, they would be foolish to do so without you.
I have been consulting with Azul and if it is true, the stone is indeed the Emerald Tablet, then we will need to assure it is restored to its full strength. With Ahmed dead and only two of the Brotherhood left, I will need your help in conducting the ritual. The power of the ritual comes from the group and repetition. For the protections to endeavor at full strength, they need to be fortified annually by a group of ten clerics,” explained Preston.
“I don’t see that as a problem, but deciding who owns the stone and where it should reside, I don’t have a horse in that race.”
“Fair enough.” Preston gave her a smile then went back to reading his book. In some ways Azul was better mannered.
Rose left the galley and entered the bridge resting her hands on the back of the pilot’s chair to get the Captain's attention. "There's a ship following us. Tommy says they will catch up to us before we make the coast."
Lorelei came on deck, "Tommy asked me to relay, the large ship is signaling, that if we don’t stop, they will destroy our ship."
9:00 A.M. Bridge of the Hünsruck
Caspar walked onto the bridge and faced the window expanse. As he crossed the wheelhouse all those who met his gaze averted their eyes from his bandaged face. Once at the window he picked up a spyglass from the storage tray and observed his quarry.
"Major, we are gaining on the Peregrine, every moment." Advised Captain Kallweit.
“When do you expect to be in weapons range, Captain?” asked Caspar.
Kallweit turned to his executive officer looking for an answer.
“We are in range,” the Lieutenant replied.
"Assume Beta Squad eliminated, captured or combat ineffective, given that the ship still flies. They know enough to stop the ship and allow us to rendezvous with them. I therefore require you to incapacitate that ship so we can proceed with a boarding action," Caspar placed the spyglass back in the tray.
"Understood, Major. I suggest we close in where our weapons are most accurate and effective," the Lieutenant suggested.
“Agreed, and we don’t have to be barbarians, Captain. If you can signal them in advance, give them the choice to surrender.”
“Reinhold, are you feeling all right?” Captain Kallweit quietly spoke to Caspar after he approached him.
“Lieutenant Ulrik has applied a salve, and the pain has dulled. While there may be a scar I was fortunate to not damage my eye. I am fit for battle and will lead the boarding party. I’m interested in meeting your Captain Falk who thwarted our attack and escape thus far. I must congratulate her.”
26
TUESDAY THE 13TH OF JUNE 1860
9:04 A.M. BRIDGE OF THE PEREGRINE
“Oh, shit what was that,” blurted out the Captain.
Rolling past the port side towards the horizon was a purple - green rolling cloud of gas. As it rumbled forward, it burst into a fiery blaze sending a shock wave out the that shuddered the Peregrine and all aboard.
“Oh, dear, that is a weapon the Guild developed with the Ministry of Defense. It is Guild Barron Edelbreger’s plasmafied gas blaster. The cannon fires a shell, that at a certain distance releases an arcane gas then ignites the gas cloud. Nasty.” Lorelei offered.
Rose thought back to the rounds she had impregnated with aether and what they did to a target at the firing range. She knew when an uncontrolled mix of aether and earthly elements were violently mixed, it had a devastating effect.
The deck shuddered, Lorelei and Rose went to the floor when the ship shifted up and to the side with a savage burst.
“Something has happened to the engines on the port side, I have lost the power. Reidun worked the throttles. “Damn it, Rose, see what is going on out there and get Tommy to check in with me. I have to cut starboard power to avoid going into a port side circle.”
“That’s to the left?” Rose was scrambling off the floor.
“Yes,” urged the Captain.
Tommy burst into the bridge, "They are firing on us Captain. Its indirect, but that last one hit us when it burst."
Reidun signaled the engine room to cut all power, then pointed ahead, “Looks like they have us surrounded."
Rose looked forward through a cloud break on the horizon and saw another ship maneuvering in the distance.
“Tommy go look at the engine on the port side and tell the Captain what you see,” said Rose.
She had an idea, Rose left the bridge and went to her cabin, th
ere on the dresser was the British flag Atwood had given her. Grabbing the Union Jack, she scrambled out onto the back gangway. The attacking ship was close enough to see the crew silhouette on the bridge. Her eyes followed two hatch doors opening on the top of the vessel. As she watched, she lowered the Swiss flag in an effort to fly it off the back of the balloon between the control planes. It seemed to take forever.
Out of the hatch popped two miniature air ships. Diminutive compared to the Peregrine and certainly to the one pursuing them. The pint size crafts comprised four brass gas kettles mounted on a propeller cowling, behind the cowling were the navigation planes and tail. At the four kettles center, a pilot was positioned in an open cockpit. In addition, three leather clad men crouched on small platforms to the left and the right of the small vessels.
As the craft closed in Rose estimated they were about twice the size of a steam carriage. it did not appear to have an external combustion engine; the whirling propeller within the cowling was battery or chemical powered.
Rose finished clipping the flag on the line and hoisted it up tying it off, then stuffed the Swiss flag into her jacket, just as the two air cars adjusted to the Peregrine's altitude and approached the ship. The riders drew pistols and pointed them at Rose; she raised her hands in surrender.
As the shuttles sidled up, three men garbed in creepy leather jerkin and gas masks similar to those that attacked the night before; jumped aboard.
The soldiers pointed guns at her, yelling in German. Rose responded, “I am a British Citizen and a Constable of the Metropolitan Police service of the United Kingdom,”
One man moved from the back towards her. "Then, Constable, your ship is being boarded by the Kingdom of Prussia under the order of the Ministry of Internal Affairs. We seek Doctor Lorelei Traube,” while he spoke one of the troopers unfastened Rose’s equipment belt and rifled through her pockets finding the Swiss flag. The Soldier handed both the flag and the equipment belt to the soldier who spoke English.
