The Alchemists: A Paranormal Steampunk Thriller (The Guild Chronicles Book 1) Page 2
All of the wealthy barons used private aircraft to shuttle them around, Guild Baron Traube was the first to own one. He was the pathfinder of extravagance. A wealthy industrial apothecary, he had developed a line of pain relief tablets and lineaments, originally sold in his retail apothecaries. The floodgates of wealth opened with the distribution of his patent medicines in the United States under the brand ‘Baron Traube's Alchemical Elixirs.
The younger brother, Stephen Traube was a guild member and Elector. He developed and patented processes for sanitation in the brewing industry and fermentation accelerants. In the guild and the alchemical fields there always seemed to be at least one or two Traube family member underfoot.
Gustavus was the patriarch of the clan, between blood relatives and his cronies, he was the most influential member of the Guild, known for his gregarious personality and generosity. A man who liked to be liked and the man who put Kiefer at the head of the council table as Grand Elector.
The gangway that surrounded the cabin increased in activity as crew members prepared the mooring lines for the airship landing. As they neared the mooring field it became obvious that Traube's airship, the Espreancé was larger than the ship belonging to the High Elector. Anyone else other that Traube and I would have had them brought to me rather than me flying eight hours.
The mooring lines went taught as the ground crews chased them and connected them to the field anchors. The thrum of motor brushes on the mooring winches started and the ship jockeyed to a level position about fifteen feet off the ground. Gustavus Traube, never one for formality waited for the Duke and High Elector at the base of the stairwell.
"Gentleman, welcome to Traube Castle, my home is yours,” Traube was in riding dressage. The group of men and attendants gathered on an electric carriage the size of a street car that Traube used to get around on the property. More than a car it was a rolling smoking lounge.
"Please have a seat they will drive us over to the castle where I have supper of venison rump and spätzle. If you can’t wait we have cold cuts and cheese to hold you over said Traube as he picked a piece of ham up and ate it.
Duke Gorber stewed in a pool of frustration having to wait until the High elector broke the ice with Traube. Gorber played the realpolitik and fancied himself at the level of Bismarck. This was old boys showing off toys. "Guild Baron, we have pressing business concerning your daughter and we cannot spare a moment," stated Duke Gorber.
“Duke Gorber, we are guests of the Traubes and shouldn't blast him with a blunderbuss of bad news and business." interrupted High Elector Kiefer.
“I understand the hospitalities that are extended. This is more than a matter of State and Guild security but the matter of a gifted young woman who has gone missing.” The Duke valued action and facts.
Gustavus plopped down on the cushioned bench of the electric trolley. "What? Has something happened to Lorelei?"
“Gustavus, we came to see if Lorelei was staying with you," said, Kiefer.
“No, Herr Elector she is in Königsberg immersed in the crucible work." Traube's face changed from his usual smile to a mix of confused concern.
"Baron Traube, your daughter's laboratory was sabotaged, and we could not discern her whereabouts. A search of her apartments in Königsberg left the police with evidence of the place being ransacked. We are considering her as missing. What is concerning is the sabotage required a level of understanding of this sophisticated equipment. Frankly, If the Englishman did not explain it to me in the terms that a farm hand could grasp it all would have been lost on me. So, the saboteurs have knowledge of the equipment and the process of its operation.”
The trolley pulled up to the Castle. “Duke, I appreciate your candor, come inside and tell me how I might help. Are you certain she is missing?" implored Traube.
The three men walked into the great hall, a gigantic dark room with walls covered with paintings of Traubes ancestors and heads of animals killed by Traubes. Even the chandelier was made of elk horns, but like everything with the Baron he had already fitted the castle on gaslight, making the room slightly less dark and a touch more modern.
"Please gentlemen sit, I at least need a chair. Henrik bring me a brandy" Gustavus was looking pale and despondent.
Gorber did not wish to speculate as he also knew Lorelei was knowledgeable enough to be the saboteur. "I will only ask once and I beg the pardon, but if I did not propose this question, I would be remiss in my duties. Baron Traube and Kiefer can either of you conceive of why Lorelei Traube might want to foul this project?"
"Gorber, I cannot believe you would imply that the Baron's daughter and a member of the Guild would commit this crime," asserted the High Elector.
"Kiefer, the man is doing his job. It is the right question to be asking and it takes courage to ask it of us. I am deeply worried that my daughter may be in danger. The crucible process has her name on it and it is foundational for the Guild’s future. I couldn't get the girl out of that blessed lab you built for her and Maxwell. If the two of them weren't so consumed with their project I would have thought they had eloped." offered Gustavus.
"I had to ask.” Gorber replied as he looked at the head of the guild for his reply, " I would add that while the Traube family has made significant contributions to the science of alchemy over the years, Ms. Traube has been instrumental in taking alchemy to a science of materials. It was on her recommendation that we sought Maxwell and proved her hypothesis on the industrialization of the crucible concept. Her fame in the sciences are tied to the project’s success." added Kiefer.
"Duke, I will help in any way I can. Have your inspectors search all my homes. You have full access to the villas in Berlin and Königsberg as well as here." suggested the Baron.
“I do appreciate that offer and I will take you up on it. I happen to have an Inspector standing by who will investigate the premises. I will notify local inspectors in Brandenburg to begin a search. One more item," Duke Gorber handed Traube a thick but simple book with a green linen binding. The book was waterlogged and had minor fire damage.
"Guild Baron this notebook was in your daughter’s office. I would like you to review it to see if you can pull any clues we can use to locate Frau Traube,” the Duke asked.
Gustavus flipped the pages "Lorelei and these infernal ciphers of hers,"
"You have no insight into her writing, we have had no luck cracking the code she used in all of her work notes."
Gustavus stood up and slapped his leg "there is your answer minister, my little girl has to be kidnapped. The culprits could not make hide nor hair of her codes so they took the code maker."
The Duke considered what the Guild Master said. It made sense. Gustavus continued, “Lorelei has always been an odd bird with her ciphers and riddles and I don't have the wits to solve her puzzles but I know where to start. I know of another odd bird who may be able to tease out the solution, if there is one in that book."
3
MONDAY, THE 28TH OF MAY 1860
10:00 A.M. WHEELHOUSE OF THE WHALER THRIFT, NORTH SEA
Rose Caldwell stood in the wheelhouse of the Thrift next to the ship’s Captain Jebediah Coffin. Everyone was thoroughly drenched, although the bridge shielded them somewhat from the tempest. One moment outside the vessel in the open risked a deluge from the North Sea crashing down upon you while being exposed to the frigid temperatures. The party was steaming into the heart of the most dangerous storm in recorded history. A squall that threatened to destroy hundreds of ships and cost thousands of lives on land and sea.
Three hours ago, in the torrential rain, she strode down the wharf and up the gangway of the Thrift carrying the seven-foot-long Javelin of Light. Rose was going demon hunting.
For weeks, she had been putting the pieces together. Tracking down a man who had stolen an ancient article of Mesopotamian antiquity, the small statuette of Pazazu: the bringer of storm and drought, found on a Royal Archaeological Society expedition of the ruins of Nineveh.
When this storm traveled onto the east coast of England, then ceased moving but continued to build in severity, Rose realized she was too late to halt the summoning. Now it was time to slay the monster.
She required a ship to take her out to sea where she could fight the beast, when she saw the modern steam whaler she knew it was the vessel for her mission. Up the gangway came Rose Caldwell in her long black and red canvas overcoat soaked to the bone bearing a seven-foot-long Iron spear. Two men impeded her entry to the ship. “I demand to speak with the Captain of this ship,” Rose ordered.
The broader of the two looked her up and down then pointed to the spear she held exclaiming, “My God, she bears Gungnir, the Spear of Odin, are you one of his handmaids?” The other man injected in a thick Irish brogue “You’re a clod Halvard Bjornson. That's, the Spear of Lugh, used by Lugh himself to defeat the Fomorians."
Rose chuckled inside, it was rare for her to see the effect of a relic on the uninitiated. "To be precise, this is the Angel Arnheim's Javelin of Light, the Spear of Demon Slaying. It will appear to you as a great weapon of legend, customarily one you read or heard about as a youth. It will be perceived as Maltet to a Frenchman, or Aram to a Mongol," explained Rose. "Now may I speak with the Captain?"
The two men still dumbstruck by the sight of the legendary weapon brought her to meet the Skipper.
Entering the bridge additional crew members assembled, two white men and a huge Maori whose size and fierce face tattoos took your attention the moment you saw him. "She's got Rhongomiant, the spear of King Arthur," reported the smaller white man with an English accent.
The taller man declared "Billings, that is Ascalon, the spear that St. George used to kill the dragon," he then turned to Rose. "Welcome aboard the Thrift, I am Captain Coffin of Nantucket. How may I be of service?"
"I need to break this storm and you can help by taking me to its heart," Rose waited for the laughter after her statement.
The Maori spoke, "I will go into battle with you," the entire crew looked at him.
"I didn't know that brown bugger even had a tongue," stated the Irishman.
"This storm is not natural, she is a spirit warrior, and she bears a hero's weapon. I will help you slay the monster of the sea." spoke the Maori.
Jebediah met Roses gaze, "Madam, do you understand what you ask? This storm has already wreaked destruction and shows to be growing worse. Have you ever been to sea? Even in calm waters?"
"Well, no," Rose thought how she could bring the Captain to her side. "I am sure this all sounds deranged … but as you all are staring at this famous weapon," she let them all see the spear for what they wanted it to be. “I didn't choose to do this; the spear chose me and now it has selected you for this battle." She hoped the chosen one bit would motivate the scared sailors.
"Captain, if we stay in port and this storm becomes worse we could lose the ship to smashing into the piers or other ships in the harbor that get loose," implored Billings.
"I will answer the call of Gungnir and go to battle with you. Tonight, we destroy your storm demon or go to the halls of Valhalla!" shouted Halvar as he walked over and placed his arm around the Maori. The skipper gestured to Rose after the Swed's heroic cry.
"What is your name, Miss?"
"Rose Caldwell,"
The Captain smiled and chuckled then yelled out, "Gentleman tonight is historic. We will steam into the worst storm in history with a woman on board and that woman is none other than Sister Rose Caldwell the White Witch of London. Ready the ship and cast off. Billings call on the engineer to get the boilers stoked."
"Thank you for trusting me, Captain," Rose replied with gratitude.
"We Coffins have been whaling for generations, the taverns in every seaport speak yarns of the infamous Coffin family of Nantucket. I find tonight satisfactory as any for me to add to those tales," said the Captain as the crew broke apart to attend their duties of steering the ship out of port.
Now, three hours thereafter the ship was steaming into the storm. Rose was green with seasickness. She had never traveled by ship before and the seas were so violent she could scarcely keep on her feet. Rose stood near the wheel with the Captain next to her. She kept one hand on the spear and the other held the compass pedestal for balance. The bridge had Billings at the wheel but the other men were out on the deck or below deck working to get the ship through the storm.
As they plunged through another towering wave the Captain spoke. "The Thrift is a one of a kind whale hunting steamer. We came into port after docking with sixty barrels of sperm oil intending to make our way home in possession of cargo to pay our way back. Many say I have hung on to the life of whaling for too long, that continuing the trade of the Coffin dynasty was a lost cause. Whales are becoming tougher to find today, and with rock oil production in Pennsylvania and the nominal cost to clarify it into carbon oil for lamps, I am uncertain if the whaling trade will survive this stagnation. Now you have me heading into a storm that has the strength of a monsoon or a hurricane and it feels right, do I sound insane?"
"I feel the same Captain, as I have a purpose," replied Billings.
"Well, Sister, what do we face in the eye of this storm?"
"An unusual and significant artifact was stolen. A clay statue of an ancient demon called Pazazu. This demon is easy to conjure as he was called upon to thwart Lamashtu, another demon. Where things go awry is when summoned, if Pazazu does not face his eternal adversary, he then brings forth either a terrible drought or storm,” said Rose.
“I nearly prevented the plan earlier, but the man who stole it boarded a ship and fled to sea. I believed he would escape to the continent, but instead, it appears he plotted to unleash the demon at sea."
"So, Rose when we find him, what will you do?" queried the Captain.
"I will plunge this spear into his heart and destroy him once and for all." Rose answered. It was then she spotted the massive harpoon cannon at the front of the ship and pointed to it, "How does that work?"
"That's our steam-powered harpoon launcher. We moved away from sending men in long boats to harpoon whales, for the safety of the men. One or two of those and we can cull the biggest of whales.” instructed the Captain.
As they gazed forward a huge swale of water crashed over the bow, washing men off their feet and sliding across the deck. “If your idea is shooting St. George's spear from that harpoon gun you're crazier than I am to be steaming into this squall,” declared the Captain.
That was indeed what Rose was considering, “Why not?”
‘On a calm sea, it takes practice to time and lead with that gun, and if you miss your artifact will be lost to the ocean depths,” answered Coffin.
Rose did not have the time or tools to glyph the harpoon gun and ensure a certain hit. Then there were the waves, she could barely stand on the dry deck how would she be able to stand on the bow of the ship to aim that gun. She hadn’t thought this through.
A klaxon sounded. There was a message from engineering. The captain went to the sound tube and pressed a lever, “Bridge to Engineering,”
“Captain, I have to cut the speed. The linkage is stripping every time the paddlewheel lifts out of the water and then crashes back in.” came a voice from the engineering room.
“Do what you must to keep us moving,” replied the Captain. Rose looked at him with raised eyebrows, did she want to know what was going on with the ship?
“The ship is powered by a rear paddlewheel, as we cut through the waves sometimes the wheel is free then suddenly it is submerged again, this stresses the wheel and the drive system. It’s better to move slow and safe rather than risk snapping the paddles or the drive gear,” explained the Captain.
Rose put her goggles on and peered through the bridge window, out beyond the sheets of rain she detected a luminescence. "There, straight ahead I can see the demon fire.”
“What fire, in this tempest?” yelped Billings.
It’s not fire like you think it’s the beast
’s spectral aura. You see this world is one of many realms in as many universes and all of it is woven together like fabric. There is a warp and a woof and when an interloper from another dimension tears into ours, he creates a rift in either the warp, the woof or both. I can see that snag in the fabric and it looks like fire when I view it through these glasses.
Just when the storm seemed to be at its worse, it broke and the skies became clear of rain but still sinister and overcast. The waves ceased and there was a strange stillness in the air, “it looks as though we breached the eye-wall of the maelstrom” said Coffin.
Rose made her way to the cabin door and outside. She looked out, straight ahead was a ship with a beacon of demon fire, “Captain, head towards that boat.” The demon hunter then ran down the slippery stair and across the deck to the bow of the ship. “Faster!” she cried.
Rose was soon joined by Halvar, the Maori, and the Irishman. She turned to them and explained her plan. "I want to shoot the Spear of Light into the person who will be on that ship." The Irishman looked at it and shook his head, "will never work. It’s the wrong diameter for the gun and won’t snug up to the packing. Without a good packing seal, there’ll be no pressure, distance, or accuracy.”
The Maori interrupted “the sky may be quiet but the waters are not.” They all looked overboard to see that the surface of the sea was twisting and circulating toward the ship they were planning to intercept; a whirlpool was developing, pulling them sideways and directly towards the ship.
The pull was strengthening and although Rose was no sailor she knew the speed and way the ship was moving was not natural. They were closing in fast on the other ship, and at this velocity, she thought they may strike it. As the Thrift circled around the other ship in the force of the whirlpool Rose saw him; a Spaniard, the one she had seen the day before, convulsing on the deck.
The metamorphosis had begun. The man sprouted locust wings which ripped through his flesh, they fluttered to throw off the gore. Then a second eruption, Pazuzu pushed up and out of the human skin like a butterfly emerging from a chrysalis, only far more violent in action. At that moment, on the deck stood the dog faced and winged demon of the storm, Pazuzu.