The Clockwork Detective

By R.A. McCandless

“This is my kind of book: a wonderful, fully realized, utterly plausible Steampunk world with a dynamite plot, great characters, and the best dirigibles this side of anywhere. I hope there’s more to come.” James. P. Blaylock, World Fantasy Award-Winning Author

Aubrey Hartmann left the Imperial battlefields with a pocketful of medals, a fearsome reputation, and a clockwork leg.

The Imperium diverts her trip home to investigate the murder of a young druwyd in a strange town. She is ordered to not only find the killer but prevent a full-scale war with the dreaded Fae.

Meanwhile, the arrival of a sinister secret policeman threatens to dig up Aubrey’s own secrets – ones that could ruin her career.

It soon becomes clear that Aubrey has powerful enemies with plans to stop her before she gets started. Determined to solve the mystery, Aubrey must survive centaurs, thugs and a monster of pure destruction.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ellysian Press
• Release date: May 7, 2019
• ISBN: 9781941637593

Book preview

Table of Contents

Dedication

Prologue – Magic and Rituals

Chapter 1 – Airships and Detours

Chapter 2 – Ice Houses and Grudges

Chapter 3 – Fae Lights and Madness

Chapter 4 – Morning News and Laudanum

Chapter 5 – Healers and Housekeepers

Chapter 6 – Forests and Trees

Chapter 7 – Centaurs and Survival

Chapter 8 – Pain and Loss

Chapter 9 – Replacements and Modifications

Chapter 10 – Monsters and Queens

Chapter 11 – Rocks and Glass

Chapter 12 – Apartments and Airships

Acknowledgments

About the Author

Also from Ellysian Press

About Ellysian Press

The Clockwork

Detective

Constable of Aqualinne

Book 1

R.A. McCandless

The Clockwork Detective

R.A. McCandless

www.ellysianpress.com

The Clockwork Detective

© Copyright R.A. McCandless 2019. All rights reserved.

Print ISBN: 978-1-941637-58-6

First Edition, 2019

Editor: Maer Wilson, David A. Gray

Cover Art: M Joseph Murphy

Ebooks/Books are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared, or given away, as this is an infringement on the copyright of this work.

All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

Dedication

This book is dedicated to my siblings Jamie and Kaleen – far more educated, better read, and winning more than ever. You have been and shall remain an inspiration.

Prologue

Magic and Rituals

I can’t breathe, Moritz tried to cry out, but nothing came. I’m dying. Help me! I’m dying!

Panic filled him as he dug at his throat and tried to will it open, to force air into his strained, burning lungs. His chest was on fire, filled with agony, but the rest of his body had started to grow numb. He could see several pairs of feet move quickly toward him, but the darkness rushed across his eyes and he couldn’t see anything more. His fingers and hands became clumsy without feeling. He rolled onto his back and his heels slammed up and down, drumming against the cobbled stones of the ritual circle. Sudden warmth filled him from his center out, a gentle, welcome sensation. His arms became heavier than the world. He tried to keep his hands at his throat, but they were like useless clubs of stone. The warmth burned through his body, consumed him, and he knew nothing more.

Chapter 1

Airships and Detours

The Haenlein’s twin Jupiter engines screamed into a higher pitch that shook the entire airship. The rattle ran across the open deck of the command gondola, over the sparse crew and up through Constable Aubrey Hartmann’s teeth. The vibrations in the floor made her left knee throb. She didn’t need another reminder that the Imperial field hospital had cut her leg off below the knee to save her life. Nor that she stood on a clockwork replacement of iron, steel and bronze that had to be wound twice a day. But the cannonball sent courtesy of the Glorious Republic of Hamill had insisted. When it rained, or when it got too cold, or when it got too hot, or when an airship powered up its engines for docking, she could feel it grind up through her hip.

The crew of The Haenlein, with goggles in place over their eyes, rode the vibrations of the powerful engines without notice. The voyage, to that point, had been as smooth as a dream. At the captain’s invitation, Aubrey had chosen to stand on the command deck, above the cargo and passenger decks. She was at the side of the open gondola to watch The Haenlein maneuver the last thousand yards into the Aqualinne docks. The air whipped around her from all sides. Tears formed at the corners of her eyes. She hadn’t thought to ask the crew for a pair of their cumbersome goggles but refused to look away.

This was only her second airship ride. As an evacuee with a dozen other badly wounded, Aubrey had been unconscious for the first. She meant to take full advantage of the captain’s invitation no matter how much it made her wish for solid ground and a good, slow horse. Aubrey grabbed the wooden safety rail with one hand and clutched the handle of her cane with the other in firm, white-knuckled grips. She blinked the tears from her lashes and stared in a mixture of awe and horror. The sound and the sensation of the airship’s final approach washed over her as the mooring tower, a spire of thin, crisscrossed, wooden beams, rapidly approached the front of the airship. Two similar sized ships were already docked at angles to the tower, floating calmly against their tethers, with long, rubberized tubes trailing from their hydrium bladders.

It looked like The Haenlein would crash into the mooring tower, careen into the other airships and tear itself apart. Aubrey repositioned her grip on the gondola’s safety rail, braced herself and drew in a sharp breath. She had a vision of tumbling several hundred feet as the ground rushed up to meet her in a violent impact – followed, for some reason, by an explosion.

With the discovery of hydrium, the fear of airship fires and tragic explosions had mostly become a thing of the past. Combat airships and firing platforms, because of their ferocity and advantage, were still regularly targeted with enemy rockets, but they no longer had to maintain height and distance for fear of shrapnel or incendiaries igniting the gas. Hydrium was wholly inert and had nearly twice the lifting capacity of hydrogen, which meant that civilian passenger and cargo ships, like The Haenlein, were the fastest, safest and most reliable forms of transportation. The industry couldn’t keep up with the demand for new airships.

The crew know their jobs. Aubrey’s words were lost, even to herself, over the engines’ roar, but they seemed to help.

The engines whined higher and louder. The deck took on a new rattle, as if it was trying to shake itself apart. Aubrey thought something might be wrong until she felt air blow from behind her. She looked back and saw that the smaller rudder fans had engaged to negotiate the final distance to the mooring tower. They tilted in and out and twisted up and down on their swivels like angry, winged insects answering the helm’s commands. The Haenlein smoothly slowed to a crawl and drifted into the tower as if drawn on a wire. A heavy rope line arced across the distance from the mooring tower toward the nose of the airship. It seemed to slip and fall, tumbling toward the ground. Suddenly, the line lurched with an upward wave, caught by the invisible hands of a crewman stationed in the nose of the airship. A second line, this time from the airship, appeared and was likewise caught by ghosts. Both lines went taut and the airship calmed with a slight rock.

In her peripheral vision, Aubrey saw a bright light pulse on and off. She turned toward the control board. The helm, first mate, and captain of The Haenlein crowded together on three, small, uncomfortable chairs bolted to the deck. The first mate leaned into the helm, and must have shouted an order in her ear, because the engines started to ramp down from their teeth-pulling tornado. The made-wind from the rudder fans dropped to nothing, and soon it was as quiet as she’d ever heard aboard The Haenlein.

Well, that’s better. Captain Jana Wegg’s voice broke across the sudden silence. She pulled her goggles down around her neck and pushed her fingers under the brim of her hat. She worked at her dark, tight curls for a moment, before she seated her hat back in place on her head.

Wegg grabbed the speaking tube that connected her with the passenger and cargo area of the ship and spoke loudly into the funnel.

Ladies and gentlemen, we’re secured to the mooring tower. Wegg waved out of habit toward the blinking light, as if anyone below the command deck could see. In a few minutes, we’ll extend our gangway, and when it’s made fast, you’ll be allowed to collect your luggage and disembark. Anyone staying with us through to Grazburg is welcome to remain aboard or spend the evening in one of Aqualinne’s public houses. We’ll leave port at oh-seven-thirty-seven sharp to catch the early thermals.

Wegg guided the speaking tube back up as it retracted into the ceiling.

The Haenlein’s crew, like most airships, was completely female. It wasn’t that men couldn’t handle the demands of airship navigation – they certainly could. But there were practical considerations when cargo capacity was dictated by weight, rather than size and strength. Everything on an airship was reduced to its simplest components and that included controls, quarters and the crew. Women, generally smaller, lighter, and able to function better under the tighter constraints, turned higher profits. Guild-owned ships, like The Haenlein, were almost entirely female crewed, except for the odd cabin boy or such.

Fifteen minutes or so, Constable. Wegg turned to Aubrey with a smile. Then you can go down, stretch your legs, and see the sights. Aqualinne isn’t much of a stopover, but a few of our passengers are getting off here. We’ll replace them with cargo if we can, stay overnight, and leave in the morning.

During the two-day journey to Aqualinne, Aubrey had been curious about everything. Flying was a vastly different way of travel from carriage, motive train or boat. Captain Wegg and her crew had been happy to answer her questions, and Aubrey had returned the favor by telling stories about her experiences in the Cimarron campaigns over dinners. The crew set as fine a table as was possible on the airship.

I’m in no rush. Aubrey pulled out her Kerns pocket watch and pushed the release button on the winding stem. The brass and nickel hunter’s case popped open and she noted the current time against the captain’s estimate. It was an old habit she’d developed while in the Imperial Army. Time could save lives or get you a good spot in the mess at dinner.

Thank you, again, for letting me watch the docking. Aubrey snapped the Kerns closed and pushed the watch back into its pocket.

Hope we didn’t shake you up too awful. The ride is much better on the lower deck, which isn’t attached directly to the engines.

I might need to have my teeth tightened, Aubrey replied, and Wegg laughed. I suppose you get used to it?

Not completely. Wegg shook her head. It’s the smooth sailing that keeps me going out. Up there, above it all – very peaceful. It’s like being carried in the arms of angels. Makes you believe in something better, bigger, than just the company or the guild.

Wegg’s eyes had taken on a faraway look, something Aubrey had seen in some naval officers when they spoke of the sea.

The company, the guild-authorized Imperial Air Transport Company, sounded grander than it really was. Their fleet consisted of seven medium cargo airships and five smaller passenger-only craft. According to Wegg, they were on the cusp of purchasing one of the larger, continental transports, which would increase their range of operation and, by correlation, their profits. Wegg had even suggested that Aubrey invest, if she had the money.

Aubrey didn’t, yet, but she politely tucked the information away for consideration.

The captain sighed, which seemed to bring her back to the now. She focused on Aubrey again, and looked down at her cane and left leg.

Will you require . . . assistance? Wegg’s tone was extremely polite.

Only with directions to the nearest public house. Aubrey grinned and moved past the uncomfortable topic of her leg. I’ll stand you to a drink for your trouble and courtesy though.

I’ll have to take you up on it when we reach Grazburg.

I’m sorry to hear that. Aubrey tone was genuine. She liked Captain Wegg and admired her competence. I hope I haven’t outworn my welcome?

Not at all, Constable. Not at all, Wegg assured her. Ruhe and I need to drum up some paying weight or the company won’t be pleased. We’ll have to oversee the provisioning for the next few days of the trip, and wire ahead for weather and scheduling concerns. We’re busier in port than out – at least for the first few hours.

Alina Ruhe had turned at the sound of her name, smiled and tipped her officer’s hat at Aubrey.

Next time? Alina asked. Her smile more than friendly.

The first mate had a design on her, likely to get them both drunk and see what happened from there. Aubrey hadn’t decided if she minded or not. She had, after all, served the Imperial Army and found that her eye wasn’t set on men or women specifically. She smiled back at Alina. The logistics of her current assignment made anything more than these warm, if pointed, exchanges the full extent of their interaction. Aubrey’s life was in Grazburg, and Alina Ruhe wouldn’t be there more than two or three weeks a year when The Haenlein was docked for repairs and maintenance.

Certainly! Aubrey let more than a little of her interest show. And your crew. Anytime.

Captain Wegg looked from Aubrey to Alina and back. She pushed her fingers up under the brim of her hat again and rubbed at her dark curls. It seemed to be a habit of the captain’s while she considered a course of action.

Aubrey felt a twinge of excitement. As much at being able to spend the night in Aqualinne as the prospect of drinking with Alina Ruhe. While the airship’s flight had been comfortable enough, sleeping on the hard, thin mattresses provided to the passengers had not. Her knee was stiff and the last two mornings she’d had painful cramps in her thigh.

Five years ago, Aqualinne had been a sleepy backwater known mostly for hand-carved wooden furniture and not much else. Situated on the Empire’s border, it had been guarded to the east and the south by nearly impassable mountains. A large village, nearly a town in its own right, with smaller, outlying villages and farms situated around it, and no rivals. It hadn’t even merited a motive train stop. When the discovery of hydrium made airship travel safe and practical for both passengers and cargo, Aqualinne had been perfectly situated to take advantage of the new traffic. Airships now travelled quickly over the mountains in and out of the Ludolf-Salian Empire. Standard airship range put Aqualinne not only on the map but made it the most practical port-of-call in the region.

The new Imperial hydrium refinery near the Zaradric mountains had transformed the town. Only half a day from Aqualinne, it provided a cheap and endless supply of the lifting gas for arriving airships. As a result, the town had nearly transformed overnight into a going concern. The growth was evident, from new construction projects surrounded by fresh-cut wooden scaffolds, to the formerly sleepy, abandoned buildings, bought and filled to capacity without so much as a fresh coat of paint.

Lara. Wegg turned to the slender girl at the helm. Get Pia down from the nose and secure the gangway to the tower. Help any passengers get their baggage to the docking, but no extra trips down the lifts. That’s what the dock hands are for. Ruhe, compliments to the dockmaster, our usual bottle of Grazzi whiskey, and let him know our needs. We’re happy to take on post, cargo and passengers – provided they’re all headed to Grazburg - total all to nine-hundred pounds. Not an ounce over. We need to top off our hydrium and the petrol – haggle him if you can. We’re set on supplies, unless he’s giving a good price. No more than a hundred pounds though.

Aye, Cap’n.

Lara was a smart-looking helmsman in her middle-teens. She maneuvered out of her place around the close-packed seats and scaled the ladder in the back of the gondola that took her up and inside the workings of The Haenlein. Ruhe followed immediately after her but took the ladder down into the passenger and cargo decks.

Wegg turned to Aubrey and was about to say something, when a whistle from one of the speaking tubes drew her immediate attention. The captain grabbed the tube and drew it down to her face.

This is the captain. Go ahead.

Wegg moved the tube over to her ear, and Aubrey could hear a small, tinny, unintelligible voice speaking. The captain nodded, and when the voice on the other side of the tube stopped speaking, she moved the tube back in front of her mouth.

Permission granted. Wegg let the tube retract up out of the way and turned back to Aubrey. A quizzical look was on the captain’s face.

You have a visitor. The Aqualinne Constable wants to have a word with you.

Aubrey frowned. She didn’t know the local constable.

Did he – he? – say what about?

He. Wegg confirmed. No. He only asked permission for himself and his sergeant to come aboard and speak with Constable Aubrey Hartmann of Grazburg. Unless there’s another by that name . . .

I’m the only one in the city that I know of. Aubrey rubbed at the line of her chin. I haven’t done anything to put your ship or your schedule in consideration, I assure you.

Wegg nodded and some of the tension went out of her.

I believe I’ll meet them in the bay. Wegg stood up. Do you want to wait here?

No. I’m at least as curious as you and might as well come halfway.

As Aubrey walked to the ladders where Lara and Alina had disappeared, she touched the outside of her coat. Nestled in the inner pocket was her warrant from the Imperium, the government appointed by the Empress to rule in the name of the Ludolf-Salian Empire. Aubrey stood at the second ladder, the one Ruhe had taken, which descended into the belly of the gondola. She hung her cane on her forearm, took hold of the ladder’s rails, pressed her boots against the outsides, and let gravity carry her through the hole in the floor. Aubrey controlled her slide using the rungs but kept the bulk of her weight off her bad knee until she touched the floor with a moderate thump and the soft tick-tock of her clockwork leg’s mainsprings.

The gondola’s bay, where all the cargo and passengers rode, was far more spacious than the airship’s command deck. Benches had been folded out of the bulkheads as needed, and portholes, spaced at even intervals throughout the cabin, let in plenty of light and air. Unused nets dangled from the overhead beams, ready to secure cargo, or double as hammocks for the crew.

There were only a half-dozen passengers. Most were lesser merchants or guild members on business who couldn’t afford one of the more expensive airships, but also didn’t want to ride on the slower motive trains. Aubrey’s status as a constable afforded her passage on any Imperial airship if she was on assignment.

She stepped away from the ladder, took her cane from her arm and tapped along to the middle of the deck where her luggage – a small steamer trunk and a long, wooden box – were strapped to the floor along with the other passenger luggage. The knots were expertly tied to staples fixed to the floor, but it would be easy enough to slip them free when the time came.

She started to turn, and her false leg took an extra second’s hesitation, which meant it was about to wind down. If Aubrey left the mechanism alone, she had about fifteen minutes of use before the clockwork became dead the same way a pocket watch would become an expensive paperweight. She looked around the cargo area, but other than the crew, she was alone.

Aubrey leaned her cane against the steam trunk, turned her back toward the entry ladder, and sat down. She still wasn’t quite used to the elaborate hook-and-eye fasterners hidden along the inside of her pant leg, but she found each one, slipped the catch free, and after only a few moments work, bared her clockwork leg up to her knee.

Trans-tibial amputation was the term the field medics used, which simply meant that her leg had been sawn off below the knee. The Grazburg doctors had cemented a short rod of anodized, Fae-spelled bronze into the remaining bone. It had taken her body weeks to heal around it, with the doctors prodding and poking to make certain the hand-length of metal remained exposed, and Aubrey didn’t die of septic shock. When they determined the operation a success, the Imperial boffins took over. They ran tests, took measurements, and finally provided her with a prosthetic leg. The false leg was a clockwork analog, with a host of gears, pulleys, actuators and rocker-arms housed inside a steel, iron, and bronze case. She understood there were even some jeweled pivots – rubies and sapphires. The bronze rod implanted in her natural leg fit through a hole in a leather cup and pressed into a socket joint inside the clockwork. Aubrey’s natural movements would engage the cams and cranks making the prosthetic lift, extend, flex and retract with only a brief pause in motion.

The boffins had explained the inner workings and went on about potential engery and kinetic energy and Young’s modulus, but most of the knowledge was too deep for Aubrey to understand. The important bit was that the leg ran on the engery stored in its complement of three mainsprings, each of which had to be wound separately. Instead of a winding stem, the Grazburg boffins