The Necronists Page 6

  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 stuffed 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 from 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 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.

  Complicit with his agreement to the Doctor, Dimetri was required to collaborate with all associates. They had met 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.

  The house man 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, 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.

  The visitor followed Dimetri into the study, they sat down 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 with the world around him.

  Dimetri began by writing, "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 are and went to his desk, upon returning he threw a pamphlet onto the table where the tall American perched.

  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. The UK 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, the cabriolet model to roll into the showroom. 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 overhead 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 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 on the stoop shortly after to greet her.

  "Ms. Caldwell, it is a pleasure to have you back at the Manor," offered Brentwood.

  Rose 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 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 cors
et, formal yet audacious.

  "I have not seen Master Preston for several days, he is at the cottage for treatments," said Bentwood, 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 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 Lorelei. 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 may 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." Added Rose. The Lord chuckled as he ushered Rose into the sitting room.

  "Well, then follow me Rose and I will introduce you to the Doctor," offered Gilchrist. They went into 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," the senior Gilchrist motioned toward Rose with aplomb.

  "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Ms. Caldwell," said the Doctor taking Roses hand and giving it a kiss.

  "Pleased to meet you, Doctor," Rose replied, attempting to be open to traditional medicine practices.

  "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. Master 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 the time Brentwood and his staff delivered a smashing 10-course meal making 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 bring 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 and myself. Master 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.

  "What if his condition is, as he insists, a metaphysical one," challenged Rose.

  "So, you wish to feed his delusions? That he is possessed by an Egyptian mystic called Abdul."

  “Azul Hassan, a Sufi cleric who was a Warden in the Hermetic Brotherhood. I can assure you that he does indeed exist, I have spoken to him.”

  The doctor Chuckled. "We all have, he is a prolific speaker and may I add boorish and insulting. A typical alternative personality, demonstrating behaviors and traits the patient is too inhibited to act out on, so they create a make-believe personality," the Doctor stammered in an instructive tone.

  "You misunderstand me, Doctor. I have spoken to Azul separate from Preston he is quite real and individual from Preston. At the Alchemical Works where Maxwell was struck dumb, Preston acted heroically and worked with the spirit of Azul to thwart a force of evil; these events caused the two to be joined," corrected Rose.

  "This is exactly why I can't have you see him, you are an enabler, and reinforce his fantasies," The Doctor turned and spoke to Lord Gilchrist.

  "You don't believe in the spiritual or the afterlife Doctor?" Rose injected.

  "I do not, the mind is a construct of the biological," defended Burckhardt.

  "Are you saying you are an atheist, Doctor," asked Lord Gilchrist.

  "My personal beliefs about religion are not in question here. I am a man of science and committed to eradicating your son's infirmity. My scientific research to cure Master Gilchrist is the solution. I ask you, Ms. Caldwell why have you not remedied the patient by spiritual means?" challenged the Doctor.

  Rose had no come back because she wasn't prepared to pay the price for the only remedy she was capable of producing.

  "Lord Gilchrist, I thank you for the lunch and the introduction to Ms. Caldwell, but I am not here to socialize, my goal is to cure your son. That said, I will take my leave to go work further with the patient." The Doctor stood up and excused himself.

  The Senior Gilchrist and Rose sat in awkward silence as Burckhardt left the dining room. "I didn't mean to cause a scene,"

  Gilchrist wiped his mouth with his napkin and dropped it on the table. The staff swooped in to clear the plates. "No matter Rose, He is an odd fellow but highly regarded. Certainly, I am a little concerned he is a godless man, but if he has a means to bring Preston bac
k from this insanity, then he will be in my favor no matter how disagreeable his views. Burckhardt does have a point, that with your background and experience you could never do much more than quiet his demons, never expunge them," posed Gilchrist.

  Rose sank into her chair. If he only knew that she had the means to cure Preston but at the cost of her soul and that of Azul, would he have her make that bargain?

  "Enough of this, let me show you the prize of my travels," Gilchrist stood up and guided Rose out to the back garden.

  Just off the patio stood an enormous round stone. It was taller than Rose and carved in ancient pagan petroglyphs.

  "This monster took twelve mules to pull out of the jungle. The Olmec calendar stone; I found it atop a temple, I believe it is evidence of this pagan civilization’s advanced mathematical understanding of astronomy. Our local guides theorize that human sacrifice took place in that temple, using this stone."

  Just then Rose felt a cool chill roll over her. As she touched the stones’ intricate carvings her skin pebbled with goosebumps. "I can affirm to you Lord Gilchrist that this stone has tasted the blood of the living."

  11:45 a.m. The Home of Ms. Anna Moore, Regent’s Park

  The steam carriage chugged down the street eventually arriving at its destination, the Moore's townhouse, in Regents Park. Violet road in the back of the hire car with her unlikely chaperone, wearing the splendid new dress she had tailored to fit her perfectly at Presley's boutique. Pāora fidgeted next to her in a somber navy coat with a collared shirt and bow tie.

  "What time would you like me to return?" asked the Maori.

  "Pāora, I'm having tea with a lady of society; not going on an adventure with my sister," Violet knew how protective their newest household staff was of herself and her daughter. The coachman opened the carriage door and waited for Violet to exit.

  Pāora placed his paw-like hand on Violet's tiny wrist, "It is the dangers of the city that concern me and you're coming and going within it, are safer with me as company."