Colts, Crinolines, and Conspiracies

Casefile: 08-KE-04021500

Location: Krakenwell & Co, Babbage Square

Synopsis: Complainant Mr. Benjamin Briggs states that sometime during the period between Wednesday and Friday Instant unidentified subjects removed 11 barrels of small beer from the premises of Krakenwell & Co.
The investigation is ongoing.

Case Status: Open

Ms. J. Dagger, Senior Investigator
Terranova Investigative Services
#25 Merryman Way
New Babbage, New Babbage

Personal Journal

10 April NByr7

It was a nice enough day, until the word came of a mass fish kill down at the port. Decided to wander by and take a look. It was as bad as I had imagined it would be. The fish were piled into the spaces between the piers, driven in by the tide. They were all open water species, with a few I recognized as deep divers. Nothing really stood out as a cause for them being dead, so I took a few samples with the intention of getting someone who had more depth in biology to take a look. The boys down at the fertilizer mill were all too happy to claim the carcasses. I hope this isn’t a sign…

13 April NByr7

I expected that it was going to be a slow afternoon, and in spite of my best efforts to make it that way….
The city messenger charged in and nearly plowed over the welding cart I had left out on the floor, before sliding to a stop to rap on the door. I was up on the loft patio, relaxing with a drink and the new issue of Brunel’s Gazette. I dropped a couple of pence on the runner for his effort, and he managed to leave the note before collecting his tip and running off.
It didn’t take too long to hoof it over to the Patent Office in Wheatstone. Well, what was left of the Patent Office. It looked as if something walked or pushed though one side and walked out the other. I went over the place pretty carefully, and came up with nothing other than a headache from the stink of canal water. It reeked as bad as the docks did, but there were no floaties that I could see.
I sent out a few quickly written notes, and assembled a team of porters to carry the files from the office to City Hall. Civic duty, City records, etc etc, and let Ozzie worry about where to put them. Took a few pictures, and wondered what would have caused such a localized phenomenon.

15 April NByr7

Word on the street is ‘Brother’ Effingham is back in town. Lovely.

Spoke too soon. Apparently he nailed his demands to the City Hall door.
Someone saw him skulking around on Abney. Why won’t the nutters stay gone?

16 April NByr7

The old “temple” plot on the hill is getting busy. After posting his missive downtown, he apparently went up to the old foundation and did some chanting and arm waving.

I walked up there and found that someone decided to up the oogy-boogy ante and do some chanting of their own. I have come to the conclusion that Mumsy should have roped the joint off and charged admission. Folks come by, many fingers were pointed, many tales were told, many speculations were aired.

Despite my native cynicism, I dug up that box from my semester abroad in Massachusetts and pocketed a couple of old mementos. I know, I know. If it turns out to be nothing, no one will be the wiser.

18 April NByr7

Came home to Kimi on the roof with a bundle of equipment that I hadn’t seen out since we first met during the aftermath of the Martians. I asked her what was going on, and all she did was point. You could see it, even across the neighborhood. It looked like a heat mirage at first, then got…deeper looking. She told me that the new uprated version of the electrochemical rifle she built last fall was in my office. Once again, I tried telling her to go visit her aunt in Caledon, and once again I was told that she signed on for better or worse, and that worse included dimensional rifts or the end of the world as we know it. Who am I to argue with that?

Personal Journal: 27 Jan NByr7

It took a while to sink in. I was out checking on a few things, and happened to cut down the hill along Savory when I saw it, or didn't see it as the case may be.

The northeast corner lot at Abney Parkway and Savory Lane was empty. I walked across the cobbles and dirt to the spot I approximated as where my old favorite spot at the bar used to be and stood a while. I thought about how many nights I spent there, chatting with friends, or about that night a little over two years ago when I slipped a ring into someone's pocket.

Change is in the nature of the world, but it doesn't mean I have to like it. I headed off towards Clockhaven, the wind off the water seeming a bit colder than normal.

((bon chance & bon voyage melniks))

Casefile: BB12182012

Location: #20 Abney Parkway, Bucket of Blood Public House, New Babbage, New Babbage

Synopsis: On 12/18 a body was discovered in front of the Bucket of Blood public house. The city coroner Dr M. Miggins made an initial examination on the scene. The body was transported to the mortuary for further examination. The crime scene was examined and evidence was collected for analysis.
The investigation is ongoing.

Ms. J. Dagger, Senior Investigator
Terranova Investigative Services
#25 Merryman Way
New Babbage, New Babbage

The petty officer stood at the door of the coal bin, watching the tall redhead in the dark blue peacoat pace back and forth inside the structure. Her anger was apparent, and the object of her anger was now obvious. Someone had built up a void space under the coalpile, to that to the casual observer it would look as if the bin was nearly full. The truth was revealed once the auger began transferring coal to the nearly empty bunkers of the Naval Squadron ship that had tied up for reprovisioning.

Jed pushed her hands a bit deeper into the pockets of her jacket, fists clenched. “Who has been in here? Has the watch been checking the gates?” The young sailor nodded “Yes’m, the only folks what been here have been workers from the city. Had papers signed by Mr. Underby, all proper like.” While he was speaking, Jed pulled a notebook out of her jacket and wrote a brief note. She tore the page from the notebook and placed it in the sailor’s hand. “Send this for me right now.” she said. Before he could say anything else, the Commodore was off and away walking towards the Depot. He threw a quick salute and headed back to the relative comfort of the wharf office.

In the distance between the Clockhaven docks and City Hall, Jed had time to think about what she was going to do. Underby was still the same weaselly paper-hanging bastard he had always been, but now he was in a position where he was a powerful and influential one. She opened the side door, tried to knock the majority of the snow off of her newly hobnailed boots, and began the climb up the staircase to the office that the Mayor’s assistant now occupied. The nails made an echoing click with each strike of the stair tread that reverberated through the largely empty building. Normally she would have tried to be much quieter coming in, but this time she really didn’t care if he heard her coming or not.
She pushed the door open, and found an unusually agitated Underby sitting in the corner of his office. Curiously, what passed for a look of relief passed his thin face as soon as he saw it was her.

“To what do I owe the honor of a visit Commodore?” he said, the voice exceptionally dry and scratchy.
Jed looked at him squarely

“You damn well know why I’m here Oswald. You owe the Naval Squadron a full load of coal for the victualing yard, and I will hold you responsible if there are any more shenanigans down there, and if you say ‘I have no idea what you mean’ I swear…”
The sound of her voice trailed off as she caught herself and stood back up from where she had been leaning over the paper-cluttered desk. She thought to herself that he almost seemed relieved to be dealing with her, and that he was not quite himself.

“I’ll expect a deliver soon, and the militia will take care of the ‘repairs’ to the coalyard.”
She saw it in his face, finally. There was something he wanted to say, an idea pressing so hard on his mind that it seemed he had to will himself to not say it. Jed paused for a short moment as the thought dropped back into the abyss of his mind, and the same old look returned to his gaunt countenance. He smiled at her as he shifted slightly in his chair.

“I’ll see what I can do to assist you. Now if you'll excuse me...” as he looked down and began shuffling a stack of receipts from one pile to another.

Jed stalked out of the office and headed back to the Depot, hoping the coffee hadn’t run as low as the coal had.

Jed sat atop the Palisade wall in the little alcove overlooking the Fells. It had been a busy sort of week, with watching Beckett begin to square away the new squad of Marines, getting things ready for Fleet Week, and the general hubbub that seemed prevalent this time of year. So while everyone was otherwise engaged, she went to the armory, picked up her rifle and a few boxes of ammunition, and headed out to the wall. A quick circle around to the chip shop completed the provisioning for her expedition, and after a bit she found herself up on the wall overlooking the broad expanse that stretched out to the creek. The good news was her longstanding instructions were still in place, as curious as they seemed to anyone who might have observed it from the outside. On the edge of the creek there was a remnant of a brick wall, and on that wall stood a neat even row of objects. Old bottles, discarded bowling pins, oilcans, pails, and various other things stood there on the wall. One of the likely lads who wanted a bit of extra money would come by and say that the wall was in order to the tune of tuppence, and the tall redhead would return to her perch and clear them away.
She uncased the rifle and laid it on the sandbags she kept there as supports. This was the older of her two long-range Sharps, the one that signaled the end of the little surveillance episode that old Mureau tried to pull. It had been rebuilt since then, and fitted with a fine German made telescopic sight. Jed snuggled in behind the rifle, dropped the breech open and picked up one of the cigar sized cartridges, slipping it into the chamber. She pulled the stock into her shoulder, and looked into the eyepiece of the long ‘scope. She lined up on the dented KrakenOil can that sat at the left of the wall, then leaned back to examine the elevation settings on the base of the scope. Jed added two clicks up elevation, made a note in her notebook, and leaned back into the rifle. Her breathing slowed, deep in, half exhale, squeeze…
THOOOM!
She dropped the breech with a well-practiced downward flip of her wrist, and waited a bit for the smoke to clear. The can had been removed from its place, and the large tonic bottle next to it remained in situ. Her hand was on a second cartridge when she noticed the line of black clad folks walking in from the Academy side of the Fells. Jed rolled the rifle around and looked at the line of students carrying all manner of crossbows, followed by Brothers Lapis and Rudyard.
“Well well,” Jed said to herself “what are you boys up to now?”

3 June 188x,NByr 6
Jed sat up in bed and ran her fingers through her hair. This was not what she wanted, or expected, but it seemed that the boys from the Manor would have their pound of flesh one slice at a time. She noticed that she was wearing some sort of gauzy cotton nightgown in place of the silk chemise and underpants she was wearing under her gown at the party. The man noticed her change in expression and he already had a razor thin smile at the ready when the obviously annoyed redhead turned to look at him.
“Before you ask, your maid Lupe changed your clothes while you were asleep. She’s been seconded to you from our Latin America bureau, so you won’t be by yourself for the duration.”
“Lovely, already assigned me a handler to keep me in line?” Jed scowled.
The man shifted in his seat again. “She is also well aware of who you are and what you are capable of Morrigan. You keep thinking that we mean you harm, when it is the furthest thing from the truth. You may not know this but there is a new occupant in the Master’s chair.”
Her eyes narrowed as the man rose and began walking to the table at the other side of the room. She stood and walked across the floor to stand next to him, where he had already busied himself opening a thick folder sealed with scarlet tapes and numerous wax seals. Jed read the title on the folder and was suddenly gripped with a feeling of nostalgia and dread. Written there in her own hand was the legend “Operation Thunderbolt” and underneath was the box stating “prepared by Dagger, J 186..”. At that instant the silence in the room hung thick like a New Babbage fog.
“You may recall this man, Dr. Ramon Cortez, was working on several projects related to an advanced weapon system that you had determined would be sold on the open market,” he said, tapping the engine-printed picture of the man, “and the end brief said that the files and journals had been confiscated and that the good doctor would not be resuming work on this project.”
He opened a second folder and placed it on top of the first. “What we have learned now is the good doctor is working for an Eduardo Aguilar, a local industrialist who is flush with cash from a recent success in the regional markets. Mr. Aguilar fancies himself as becoming the Krupp of South America, and he feels that Dr. Cortez can give him the edge he needs to step into the arms market.”
Jed leafed through the new folder, reading the briefing materials and making mental notes of what she read. The doctor had come to the island a few months ago, and was living alone in a cottage adjacent to his workshop. Alone? This thought ran through her head as the man continued.
“The mission is pretty straightforward, assess the threat, observe any activity at the lab, gather any actionable intelligence or any materials about what the doctor is up to now, and take those actions necessary to ensure that there is no threat to Her Majesty’s interests in this area.”
Jed looked at the man as those words danced in her mind, the old bugaboo “any actions necessary” meant that she would have to decide, and the higher ups could walk away and say that it was merely the actions of an overzealous agent, or worse yet deny that she was even associated with the Ministry at all. New tune, same old dance.
“The overt cover is you are on holiday with your maid, and you will have the proper introductions to get you in to Mr. Aguilar’s evening get together. It seems he has a taste for English noblewomen, so Lady Burnley will be making a reappearance. He also has a taste for blonds..”
Jed swore under her breath.

The little airship sounded as if it was about to fly apart. Next time, the pilot mused, I’ll steal one that isn’t on the repair line. Next time. The thought that there could be a next time was an annoying thought, but was shuffled off to another part of the mind as a new mountain peak loomed large in front of the struggling flyer. Skimming valleys, running along ridgelines, threading though passes. This flight had been one of constantly being ‘up on the stick’, no pleasure cruise here, and with the constant threat of pursuit it had been a long nerve-wracking time. The sun pushed through the low clouds, and there was a very welcome sight of the Two Sisters and the Finger. This meant one turn through the pass, a short run along the edge of Bone Valley…then the Fells, and home. The reverie of being close to the end of this flight was interrupted by an increase of noise from the airship’s engine. The pilot cursed again, as that sound could only be made by the main bearings. It vibrated and strained so much the pilot feared it would come loose from its mounts, and all that could be done was turn up the oilers and pray they didn’t run out before the wall came into sight.
A few moments later, the ribbon of tracks along the aqueduct pushed out of the growing haze as the struggling little airship fought its way along. Just when it seemed the engine would finish the task before expiring, the envelope decided to raise the ante. Despite the best efforts by the weary pilot to keep the little ship in the air, it was losing altitude just as surely as the destination stood just out of reach. With a determination borne of desperation, the pilot pushed the throttle full open and pointed the doomed little ship towards the wall of the city. In a last desperate act to cling to the sky, the ship turned sharply to avoid the looming walls of Szuster House and raised its nose before coming to rest tail down in the dirt next to the Academy parapet. The pilot shut down the engine and moved away sharply from the wreckage as what little hydrogen was left in the envelope met the last of the heated metal of the now seized engine. The pilot stood watching the fire consume the flammable bits of the wrecked airship and thought that this way there won’t be any need to hide the evidence.
A solitary figure walked into the Muirsheen Durkin wearing a Prussian Fliegertruppen uniform. The bar was empty, and the figure walked to the counter and began to peel off the heavy layers of clothes that had been such a godsend while flying across the mountains. Once this was done, it took another bit of effort to locate where the proprietor had stashed the good rum. Devoid of the flight helmet, goggles, and scarf, the pilot took a long draw of Pussers from the bottle and pushed a tendril of blonde hair back behind her ear. She looked in the mirror and smiles that old familiar smile.
“Jed darlin’,” she said to herself, “nobody will believe this, even if you could tell them the truth.”

To: Office of the Clockwinder

From: Dagger, J. CDRE, NBM

Re: Van Creed

After the actions of today's date, I would recommend the following:

1) Seizure of all attributable Van Creed society assets within New Babbage

2) Place all parts of the Porte Terrarum (aka Eliot Device) under city control.

3) Immediate demolition and clearance of the Colton & Co factory building, as same is a hazard.

4) Sealing of the foundation in concrete.

5) Issuance of a warrant for Barnaby Hopkins.

J. Dagger, commanding.

The congregants filed out of the Cathedral of the Builder, shaking hands with the Brother who delivered the service and gathering in little groups there in the lee of the chapel. Many talked quietly about the strange goings-on in town, or the more nervous folk who decided to evacuate. One attendee had another plan and another reason for sitting through the sermon. The man slipped into the alcove of the chapel, and there found the object of his attention, a crate marked “For Clerical Use Only”. The crate was filled with squarish parcels wrapped in brown paper and string, and as he lifted it the contents made a muted metallic click. He slipped the package into his coat pocket and he joined the group outside, shaking the Brother's hand and complimenting him on the logic of his sermon.

The man walked off towards Ruby's Pub to see a friend, collect a debt, and have a pint.

………………………………………….

The deliveryman stood smiling, hand out at the door of the office as the tall redhead fished in her purse for the correct change. She looked at the large silver coins and was struck with a sudden pulse of generosity. Dropping 6 coins in the courier's hand, she smiled and cradled the bundle he had just brought to the door.
“Thankee mam.” He smiled and headed back towards the Post Office.

Jed opened the package, and after undoing the careful wrapping and the layers of crumpled sheets of newsprint, found what she had been waiting for...5 metallic cartridges of a caliber she couldn't recognize and with an oddly formed bullet protruding from the end. Smiling, she placed the cartridges in her pocket, stuffed the box into the stove, and headed back to the building that housed Ying Research. She walked in, kicked the snow off of her boots and looked around the shop for signs of what Kimika was working on today. The submarine was still in the main workbay and as Jed walked closer she saw a booted leg and the hem of a skirt protruding from an access panel on the aft quarter of the boat.
“Hello dear. What are you up to in there?”
The leg promptly disappeared into the access hatch and a few moments later the raven-haired head of the former Miss Ying appeared out of the hatch.
“Hello love. Remember how we were discussing the descent issue over supper? I had an idea to increase the flow rate to the ballast tank, so I’ve been working on the valves. How has your day been so far?”
Jed smiled that crooked little smile that indicated that she was up to something. “I need you to take a look at something for me. It’s a specialized cartridge that I would like to make in a caliber I can use. I need a full metallurgic breakdown, design analysis, and an estimate of how hard it would be to reproduce. I’ll just leave them on your desk.”
Kimika looked up at her, and nodded. “I should be done with this in a bit, and I’ll let you know what I find out.”
“Thank you dear.” Jed said, bending to kiss her forehead. She turned and walked back over to the office to continue sorting through the mass of paperwork associated with the matters at hand.

………………………………………….

Later that afternoon the entry bell on the entrance rang, and Jed saw a very welcome sight. Kimika walked across the workshop floor, carrying a tin lunch pail in one hand and a box in the other. She had that look on her face, so Jed stopped working and waited for her to walk into the office.
“There. I brought you some food since I know you haven't eaten, and I have a surprise for you as well.” Kimika sat the box on the desk, and pulled off the slip-fit lid to reveal 25 large brass cartridges.
“I found the unloaded casings you bought for the Greener, and used them. The bullets themselves had a few curious features, and a few extra things added to the lead, but it wasn't anything that took too horribly long to figure out. The physical design of the bullet itself was actually more difficult. Each one of them has writing on it. Almost a sort of incantation...I assume you'll want to test them, and I also assume you'll try to insist doing it alone, and of course you know I'll not let you go by yourself.”
Jed looked into Kimika's eyes and realized that this was going to be a no-win situation, and despite the fact she had worked very hard to keep her partner out of harm's way, it was apparent that there were two risk-takers in the Dagger house now.

…...............................................................

Jed decided to do the test at the pod in the old cemetery behind the Academy. This would give them a good route of egress should the rounds not work. Kimika stood back at the gate as Jed walked up to the cylinder and gave it a solid kick with the sole of her boot. The kick was rewarded with the appearance of three of the cyclopean little crabs, who rushed to defend the pod from the intrusion. She ran back to the gate, where it was quickly closed. She knew she'd only have a short time to shoot, because the crabs would use the bodies of their cohorts to climb over the fence to get at the two women.

Jed leveled the Greener at the first creature, the steel nosecap of the heavy police shotgun just inches away from the beast. The sound of the shot was punctuated by the scream of the creature, who lurched as the heavy slug punched through it is shell. She reloaded and fired again, the creature screaming as it evaporated into a cloud of slimy smoke. Jed fired and fired until the creatures were all gone, the barrel of the shotgun too hot to hold.

“Well, that proves they can be killed, and if they can be then maybe we still have a chance” Jed said. Kimika smiled, and nodded. “A chance is all we need.”