The Travelers' Club and The Ghost Shp

By Michael Bradley

This is not the 1880 you read about in your history books...

Confederate sharpshooter Ashley Cooper fled abroad after the South lost in the War of Northern Aggression. While selling his services as a mercenary, Ash had no idea that his chance rescue of a British aristocrat in Afghanistan would lead him to unimaginable challenges. While facing wily women and difficult travels with his new friend Lord Reginald Harcourt, Ash will also discover alien technologies, a world full of foes, and a showdown with creatures of nightmare that will determine the future of mankind.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Michael Bradley
• Release date: Jul 19, 2012
• ISBN: 9780985450830

Michael Bradley

Michael J. Bradley, Ph.D. is a psychologist, a leading expert on adolescent behavior, and is certified by the American College of Professional Psychology in the treatment of substance abuse disorders. The author of the bestselling Yes, Your Teen Is Crazy, he has been featured in the national media, including CNN, Fox News, NPR, Today, Good Morning America, The New York Times, USA Today, and Rolling Stone.

Book preview

Chapter 1 - The Ghost Ship

On the bridge of the tramp steamer Hibernian Captain Josie Stump and his first mate Zachariah Bonden were sharing their afternoon tea. Thaz' one good thing at least it is.

Whaz' that Zach? Josie looked at the binnacle to make sure the ship was still on its proper heading, plodding through the calm Mediterranean waters toward England with its load of rubber.

We may be travel all the way across the bloomin' globe to get this here rubber in the hold and then travel all the bleedin' way back, but at least we gets the freshest cup o' tea I e'er did seen. Zach smiled with the remnants of his tea stained teeth.

It ain't so bad Zach, not only do we gets the good tea, but I don't figger me and the missus could right stand each other on a reg'lar basis like. Josie thought of the shabby flat his fat wife and his six lazy kids called home. I jus' as soon get me some on each end o' the journey if you knowin' my meanin', then gits meself back into the water where I belongs.

Zach stopped looking at his Captain and stared out into the water. Bloody Hell Josie, ever seen sumthin' like that? He pointed out to the starboard side.

Josie looked out in that direction at a bulge coming out of the water like a glowing green orb, a good fifty feet across. What ye think it be, a bloomin' whale tossin' its fins, here in the damnable Meddy?

Captain Stump's eyes widened as he saw red flashes in the air, too quick to make out, like streamers of rockets on Guy Fawkes' Day. I have no bloody clue Zach, better, hit the claxon and get the crew on deck, jus' in case mind.

Zach rang the claxon by spinning the brass lever on the bell sounding out the alarm throughout the ship. As he did, he saw a dark robed figure, impossibly tall standing in the doorway to the bridge. It's Death it is! Come here to claim me! He yelled in panic.

Then there was a blinding flash, followed by silence.

**********

Captain to the Bridge, Captain to the Bridge! The polished brass speakers sounded throughout the steamship.

Captain Niles Chapliss put on his hat with its gold braid and climbed the gleaming ladder to the Bridge. Captain on deck! Shouted the Ensign and the bridge crew snapped to attention with a click of their shoes and the outward facing knuckled salute of Her Majesty's Royal Navy.

At ease. Situation report please. Captain Niles Chapliss stood looking out over the HMS Gallant, one of the latest steam-powered destroyers armed with the ultra-new four inch bore steam cannons. Just ten years ago such a ship would have had just two steam boilers for propulsion and two smoke stacks for exhaust. The HMS Gallant still sported those, but in addition each of the six cannon turrets also had their own boiler and short brass smoke stack protruding from the top of the gun mounts. The eight stacks belched steam and smoke at a precipitous rate and used coal and water in great quantities.

Captain Chapliss sighed and not for the first time. The extra water and coal reduced the operating range of the steam destroyer to one third its previous amount. True, the new steam cannons fired over ten times faster than the traditional breech loaded powder cannons, but patrols were usually uneventful anyway. Few would challenge the Royal Navy anymore, so the lack of range was discouraging. Luckily, the HMS Gallant was stationed at Gibraltar and had very little area to patrol, the straits being only eight miles wide at the narrowest point and just twenty-three miles wide at the widest.

"Captain, ship adrift off to port. It's the freighter Hibernian, an English vessel expected from Alexandria days ago. No response to signals." The young Ensign indicated the ship and handed the Captain the new brass zoom goggles that had recently replaced the single lens telescopes used before. The Captain strapped them on and adjusted the gear slides on the edge to focus. The sets of lenses rotated in and out until he was at ten times zoom. He could clearly make out the empty deck of the ship. It was a steamer but the boilers were obviously cold as the stacks were silent and the ship was not under power, wallowing badly in the choppy waters near what the ancients had called the Pillars of Hercules.

Bring us alongside Ensign Smythe. Prepare for grapple, boarding and tow. The crew was well trained and drilled by their Captain. The HMS Gallant quickly laid aside the Hibernian and squared her away alongside with cables. A simple boarding ladder was tossed between the ships. You have the ship Ensign Smythe; I am going aboard her to see what we have here.

Captain Chapliss and a party of some twelve sailors boarded the Hibernian. Most of the sailors went down to restart the boilers and to go to the bridge so she could get steerage. The freighter was large enough to damage the HMS Gallant if she continued to bang alongside her with the swells.

The Captain took his Bosun along with him and searched the ship. All the lifeboats were still aboard and there appeared to be nothing amiss. Strangely, there was no sign of the crew and all the cargo was gone. Meals, now rotting on their plates and drinks still in their mugs were found in the mess hall. All about the ship it appeared the crew and cargo had simply disappeared. The Bosun pointed out several black lines on various parts of the ship. The bridge, the interiors halls and other areas all had the bizarre marks. They looked as if someone had dragged a welding torch along the bulkheads and burnt a clean line. They had not caused any serious damage though, just left burnt scars on the otherwise relatively clean ship.

Captain Chapliss reviewed the ship's log and found that the entries stopped three days ago, but there were no indications of any problems. The ship had sailed through the Suez Canal with a belly full of rubber from the East Indies. The Captain noticed the strange behavior of his boarding crew, several crossing themselves and looking about anxiously.

When it came time to put a prize crew on board, he had to ask for stalwart volunteers, as word of the ghost ship had passed quickly on board the HMS Gallant, and few were willing to sail her. Even in today's modern world the Captain knew that sailors were the most superstitious lot. Lieutenant Moore and a prize crew of ten sailors were eventually persuaded to go aboard and the ship sailed for port in Gibraltar, the HMS Gallant running as escort.

Captain Chapliss had overheard Lieutenant Moore discussing the possible financial benefit of the discovery and used that to motivate him. Under the rules of maritime law, the ship would be considered salvage since it had been abandoned for over twenty-four hours and the crew and Captain would receive a bonus. Captain Chapliss did think the sum would be much since the cargo was all gone, but to a young Lieutenant like Moore, every pence and shilling counted.

Niles was uncertain what had happened, but it was peculiar enough to use the new hush-hush device he had on board. He went down to the special berth created for the secret device and saw the Master's mate ready for him. How does this infernal machine work again Master Hobbes? The Captain squinted down at the many tubes, liquids and crystals of the device.

Hobbes smiled and scratched his head. Not quite sure WHY it works, Sir. However, they've shown me HOW to use it. He picked up a brass cup with a long corded hose attaching it to a brass box. The box had several spinner wheels and levers, all made of brass, and various colored crystals set in the top with a few tubes of colored liquid swirling around the sides. You see I set these here levers to a particular pattern they tell me in port, then I swish around these spinner wheels to 'set up a charge' what'er that means, Sir. Then you speak into this brass cup and they can somehow hear ya' in port. Magic, I calls it Sir, but they say it be science.

Very well Master Hobbes, do, er, whatever they showed you. The Captain looked at the device as if it would bite him.

Aye, aye Captain. Hobbes moved the levers, spun the wheels and handed the brass talking cup to his Captain. Now you jus' talk into it if you will, Sir.

The Captain made his report, uncomfortable and stuttering as he was talking to thin air. It was his first time using the strange device that sent voices over the aether magically and he hoped he would not have to use it often. Somehow, it seemed wrong and he longed for the old days when he gave his reports in person when he arrived back in port.

Chapter 2 - The Travelers' Club

Lord Reginald Harcourt pranced about by the well stoked fireplace flailing his arms as he gave his speech. Excitement was his usual state and it was enhanced by his favorite topic - an upcoming expedition. His audience shared his enthusiasm, for they were of course the Travelers' Club, a disreputable and frowned upon subset of the British Royal Academy of Science. While the Academy met in only the finest settings, the rapscallion Travelers' Club took delight in meeting in a shabby pub decorated outlandishly with the prizes and trophies of their travels. Here were shrunken heads hanging from the wall, tribal shields and spears, rare rugs of Persia, elsewhere elephant tusks and a stuffed tiger from Far Asia, many items from India, and flags of all sorts. Various old swords and pistols hung in pairs with coats of arms. The Proprietor loaned out the place to them on Tuesdays for a hefty fee, glad to do so on his slowest night of the week.

While at the Academy they may imbibe fine claret from a crystal goblet, here they drank small beers out of the bottle, and on occasion, were lax enough to exchange snifters of brandy, usually after a successful journey. Their guest, careful to make himself unnoticed, sitting in the back in an overstuffed chair found them all quite amusing. They were scholars, mostly from the upper crust of society, and their shabby pub was still in one of the finest neighborhoods in London and their rebellion was laughable to a working class sort such as himself. Still, they were all very good folk and he could not deny them their slumming for fun.

His name was Ashley Cooper, though his friend Lord Reginald Harcourt simply called him Ash. Ash was only allowed in the meeting because Lord Harcourt told the other members he was his man, his valet, assistant, and batman. In reality, Reggie as he called Lord Reginald Harcourt, was his best friend, and they were more partners or even brothers and certainly not employer and employee. Reggie was tall and skinny, about five foot ten inches but only around ten stones soaking wet. He had dark brown hair, nearly black, with his pride and joy huge mutton-chop sideburns. His eyes were a twinkling light brown and while decent enough with a sword or pistol, he was by no means hardened. His affectation for wearing his vest with its alternating red and yellow vertical stripes gave him a bit of a dandy look.

While Reggie was a dreamer, the young boy in a scientist's body, Ash was the hard bitten mercenary. Ash was a giant at six feet and nearly 15 stones weight of solid muscle. He had turned prematurely grey and his blonde hair had a silver white sheen to it. He kept it short, nearly to stubble, and was always clean shaven. At age 35 he looked older and more rugged than Reggie, but was in fact his junior by five full years.

Ash had seen so much war and killing that he was jaded. He had lost count of the number of men he had killed and knew there were some he did not even remember. Somehow, he felt he had lost part of his soul or his humanity. How could you justify not even remembering someone you had killed? It seemed you had an obligation to remember them. But Ash knew that the more he killed, the easier it became and the less he felt.

He was no murderer or street thug and he had never killed for criminal reasons. He was a soldier, he told himself. But he also knew that was not the whole truth. He was also a soldier for hire. At some level he knew he was good at killing and liked the idea. That disturbed him more than anything else.

He was born in Baltimore, Maryland and he was an American. Being a Colonial made him almost as unwelcome among the British aristocracy as did his mercenary background. In 1861, at the age of 16, he had joined the Army of Northern Virginia and fought for General Robert E. Lee. First he served under General James Ewell Brown JEB Stuart's Cavalry and later as a sniper. After the South was sure to lose, he had fled the country. Snipers were often killed when captured and he had built quite an unwelcome reputation among his enemies.

Since then, he had traveled from one war to another, usually on the losing side. It was In Afghanistan that he had met Reggie for the first time, while he was acting as a scout for the British Army in the Second Anglo-Afghan War. It was also there he had saved his friends' life for the first of many times. That was when his fortunes had turned and he found himself on the winning side. You could say a lot about the drawbacks of the British, but they certainly did seem to be on top of the world at the moment. Now it was 1880, and he had fought for nearly twenty years across the globe and had little to show for it but numerous scars, a keen ability to kill, and a working vocabulary of many languages.

Lord Reginald was still talking animatedly about his plans to go to the Dark Continent and to explore the paths of the Nile. It was just eight years ago that word of Dr. Stanley Livingston's discovery of the source of the Nile had made him a national legend. Livingston had died shortly after his triumphal return to England. In the time since, none had mounted follow-up journeys sufficient to map large areas and to bring commerce and trade to the region. It was just such an expedition that Sir Reginald Harcourt was planning.

It was this constant excitement, childlike innocence and need to explore and discover that drew Ash to his side. Ash could experience this innocence vicariously through his friend Reggie, even though his own short childhood had long been stripped from memory. At the same time, Reggie needed someone with practicality and worldliness to protect him and help him on his expeditions. He rarely gave thought to simple items such as food, shelter or angry natives. Reggie's mind focused on the wonder and magic of the trip, not the practical aspects.

After finally coming to an end of his speech, his fellow Travelers' Club members cheered him in his planned endeavors and went about finishing their beers and gathering their cloaks and canes to make their tottering way home. The English, Ash reflected, are the funniest of all people and yet take themselves the most seriously. Ash rose with a smile and patted the back of his friend Reggie. Quite a night Lord Harcourt. Everyone is excited. Anyone offer to fund this expedition yet?

Sir Reginald smiled at first but then winced a bit at the last. Not yet, but I did not expect anyone here to be able to do so. They all have their own bits of fun dreamed up that take their resources. But I have no doubt I will find a willing benefactor soon. He grabbed his cane, cloak and hat and headed out the door with Ash, shaking hands with his fellows on the way out.

I have no doubt you will either Lord Harcourt. He smiled at Reggie mischievously.

Good God Man! I know you have to call me Lord Harcourt in front of the others, but we are outside and alone now, please don't tease. You know I don't abide by all that fuddery. One of the few things I agree with you rebels on is your penchant for using first names.

Alright Reggie, I won't tease you. But I will say I am always amazed how you find someone to fund your travels, given your relative history of success.

What now, Ash? Still mocking? All my travels have been quite successful. You know that.

What about the New Guinea fiasco? Ash asked, he loved to annoy Reggie a bit. When Reggie got so animated Ash found it was quite enjoyable.

Why, how was I to know that they were actually cannibals? I thought people had been joking, and anyway, the water never got to boiling and we did make it out in one piece more or less.

And the Amazon expedition? Ash continued to prod Reggie who was quite beside himself now.

Look that would have worked out as well if our guest the trade ambassador had just been a bit quicker on his feet. That curare dart barely got him before we made the boats. If we were a bit better funded we could also have had a better translator. Maybe then he would have said it right, Chief you have a lovely wife, not Chief, your wife is a lovely pig. Reggie grinned despite himself. Yes, we could have gone back and sorted it out if the trade ambassador had only lived. But after that, no one else would go back with us.

Hard to imagine why. Ash chuckled.

Yes, well... Reggie snorted. You forget the diamonds in Togo and the vanilla trade in Madagascar. Those worked out just fine.

I suppose they did Reggie at that. So, maybe fifty-fifty eh? Ash shrugged. I guess those are good enough odds for your wealthy friends, much like a coin toss.

Yes they are my friend, yes they are. Just then Reggie and Ash pulled up short. Out of a dark side alley a figure emerged and pointed a very large pistol at them. The revolver looked immense as Reggie looked down its nickel plated barrel and saw the dark figure behind it.

Give us your money, Lord Harcourt. The voice was soft but firm, the hand steady on the pistol.

Ash moved forward slightly while he moved his hand toward the purse at his side. As he did so, he looked up and past the assailant quickly, furtively. The man with the gun saw Ash's eye movement and just for a moment turned slightly to follow his gaze, but immediately realized his error. Ash moved quickly, his right hand shot out and gripped the barrel forcing it up as a massive bang exploded in the air and the shot went wild. Ash's left arm came up and instantly it held a long thin blade. He rammed the blade home under the tip of the sternum and up into the heart and twisted it violently.

The dark intruder went limp and Ash lowered him to the ground, removing his pistol and pulling out his wallet in one smooth movement. Ash held the contents of the wallet up to a street lamp to examine them as the Bobbies came running to the sound of the shot blowing their whistles and jostling the lamps in their hands.

Reggie looked at the dead eyes of the man on the blood soaked cobble stone, staring upward in disbelief. Reggie immediately felt embarrassed, not only for himself, but for showing his weakness in front of Ash. While he had stood stock still, his friend Ash had reacted and once again saved him. Reggie envied his friends' amazing abilities.

The Bobbies listened to Lord Harcourt's recounting of the attempted robbery and removed the body. It was unusual to have a mugging in this part of the city, but the word of a Lord was all they needed to close the case as self defense. It would be one less thing for them to have to worry about. Lord Harcourt thanked them and resumed his walk, Ash coming out of the shadows to join him.

I am sorry my friend. Reggie stared at the cobble stones as he walked.

For what?

For doing nothing.

Ash realized with a grimace how little the event had meant to him. The act of killing the man was reflex; he had not even given it a second thought. That's what you have me for Reggie, don't worry about it.

Thanks Ash. I mean that. Still, quite the exciting end to the night, a robbery of all things. Reggie quickly regained his casual swagger as they walked.

Ash hesitated to tell Reggie his speculations, but felt he must. It was no robbery my friend.

Reggie stopped in his tracks and spun on Ash. No robbery, what is this rubbish, he asked for our wallets?

Ash's face went stern, and he pulled out the man's wallet and gun. Reggie was amazed he had kept them from the police. No cutpurse uses a brand new Webley-Green army model 1879 pistol with brass shells and has a purse with a stack of ten pound notes in it. His clothes were all new and tailored, his hair cut and oiled and his fingers manicured.

Reggie harrumphed. He always felt a bit taken aback as a man of science when Ash so eloquently spoke of things he knew little about. For a common man, Ash certainly had a brilliant mind in his own fields of experience. You certainly took great stock in the man. If not a robbery, why would he ask for our wallets?

Ash remained serious. As a cover, he was there to kill us both and make it look like a robbery. In another second he was going to pull the trigger, I saw it in his eyes. Also, he was a professional, I could tell by the way he held the pistol and his own stature, plus a common thief would have looked where I looked, not given me just a fraction of a second. I have to add that he knew who you were. It was no random shake-down.

Reggie thought over all that and could find no fault in the logic. It was sobering to think he had been marked for death. Fortunately, he knew why, and he also felt it was time he reveal to Ash the truth about himself. One more thing Ash. How did you produce a knife so quickly? It all happened in such a flash.

Ash pulled back his left sleeve and revealed a brass spring and gear contraption which Reggie immediately recognized. I used your automatic candle snuffer from the entry way at your manor house. I thought having a knife at the ready would be better than sparing Chives the effort of putting out the candles at night. Ash laughed.

Reggie looked at the new use of his device and chuckled. You always amaze me Ash in your new uses for my inventions. Quite the applied field tester. At least Chives can put out half the candles with the second one.

Not exactly. Ash rolled up his right sleeve and revealed the twin device with another knife. I suppose Chives will just have to manage the old fashioned way.

My God Old Man, you are a walking arsenal! Reggie tapped his cane in delight.

Ash did not bother to mention the knife between his shoulder blades, the one in his left boot, or the derringer in his right boot. Ash thought he was relatively lightly armed tonight.

Ash, this evening's events lead me to a conclusion on something I have been fretting over. You simply must come by Lady Tremaine's place tomorrow for tea. We need to discuss something very important. Reggie looked over at his friend in anticipation.

I will be there, but would appreciate you making some Colonial coffee for me instead of that blasted tea. Ash had to maintain some American traditions after all.

We have an agreement then kind Sir. Reggie took his leave outside his manor house and had his driver take Ash to his place in the working district.

Chapter 3 - Reggie's Secret

Ash arrived by coach promptly at three in the afternoon at the door to Lady Tremaine's spacious manor house in the most elegant environs of London. The large stone structure was beautifully carved and decorated and a footman stood attentively to help guests as they arrived. Ash thanked the liveried servant as he helped him from the simple black coach carriage and escorted him to the door. At the huge double door a small rap by the footman resulted in the doors opening and the well dressed butler welcoming Ash. Ash smiled, realizing that even the servants here were much better dressed than he was in his simple workman's clothes and heavy boots. He was used to such a disparity in dealing with the English aristocracy and it amused him but did not embarrass him in anyway. He had seen way too much in the world to let social morays bother him in the least.

Mr. Ashley Cooper is calling, Milady, the butler announced and bowed deeply, leaving Ash in the parlor with the Lady of the House. Lady Ilsa Tremaine was truly as lovely as she was rich. Her tight bodice and lacy gown showed off her slim figure while her blonde hair spilled down her shoulders like a shower of golden silk. Her eyes were a bright blue grey and twinkled with a zest for life. Ash could see why Reggie was so smitten by her.

Ash bowed awkwardly, but tried his best to be respectful. Lady Tremaine, it is my deepest pleasure. She laughed gaily and the whole room suddenly felt warm and welcome to Ash.

Mister Cooper, my darling. Lord Harcourt told me you would be stopping by to join us. I also understand he plans to reveal his secrets to you. I know it has bothered him greatly not to be able to do so until now. She waved for him to be seated and