Lazarus Goes Forth; Episode 2 of Kingship an Odyssey in Aether: Kingship an Odyssey in Aether, #2

By Michael Richie

The Kingship, an Odyssey in Aether series follows the crew of Kingship, a steam powered aethercraft built long ago by the then benevolent Brotherhood of the Strange. Now, Captain Vance Williams and a band of war ravaged adventurers turned merchants must aid the brilliant scientist Degory Priest in tracking down a missing time machine that carries an arcane device which could doom the whole world!

 

Not familiar with Steampunk? No problem. Think H.G. Wells, Jules Verne, but dialed to an eleven! It's the romantic notion of the Victorian age melded with steam powered yet futuristic technologies. Its airship pirates by day, waistcoats, corsets, and bowler hats in London battling the supernatural by night.

 

Episodes are fast paced, with heroes you will love and villains you will hate, set in a world familiar, alien, and exhilarating all at once! 

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Michael Richie
• Release date: May 16, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393020981

Book preview

Chapter One

The cacophonous sound of bagpipes initiated Vance’s morning much earlier and far harsher than he would have preferred. Dinner at the Von Fersch manor went late and adding the side trip to collect Wingnut the captain of the Kingship was hoping to sleep in just a little later than usual. As the ship was landed in a field next to the open market there was no need to arise as early as those vessels moored at the towers. Their crews would already be busy getting their cargos and wares onto the enormous steam powered lifts in a bustle to claim prime vending space for buyers whose ships were likely moored in very the same towers. It was hot and thirsty work, work Vance had performed many times and was grateful once again at the Von Fersch’s hospitality allowing them to land Kingship in such a convenient location. The thought of sleeping that all too often elusive extra hour or two was a refreshingly exciting prospect as he climbed in bed once Wingnut’s needs were seen to. Now with each note of Winston’s bagpipes vibrating through the metal decking Vance felt somehow cheated. After a wasted minute of trying to shut out the music with his pillow he rolled over and hammered his fist on the floor.

Winston! Shut it! he shouted below to the aged pilot’s quarters which of course were located directly beneath his own. There was a pause in the music followed by some loud muttering from below. The specifics were lost through the deck plating though Vance was guessing he and all of his ancestors were being insulted. Now painfully awake as Vance never found it easy to fall back asleep he rose and showered in his private bath. As soon as the water was turned on the bagpipes recommenced. Once clean and dressed in work pants, waistcoat and shirt, he donned his cap, leather belt containing several pouches filled with useful odds and ends, and his small Celtic knife. Ready for the trade and business of the day he left his quarters and headed to the galley to find some breakfast. There he found Burd cleaning a disassembled plasmatic derringer and Afa who was cooking some sausages given to them by Anna Von Fersch the previous evening. Afa always found German sausage a little too mild and Vance could smell the healthy dose of West African bird pepper he added. Nearby some eggs were being poached, tomatoes just picked from Afa’s onboard garden were lightly frying, and the smell of fresh coffee permeated the room. Vance was continually impressed at his friend’s ability to pull such a bounteous larder from a converted greenhouse on the back of his ship.

Good morning, Captain, said Afa.

Cap’n, added Burd.

Vance replied, Morning, gentlemen. Please tell me that coffee is ready.

Aye, said Burd, reaching over and pouring him a cup. Though you might want something a bit stronger to drown out the musical accompaniment.

Taking a sip of the hot beverage Vance nodded, I see our dear Winston woke you two up as well?

Burd replied stoically, Yup. I was sleeping as sound as a baby. But it’s fine. The sound of ten cats being strangled is an invigorating way to start the day.

I was already awake, Afa added. I assumed that Winston would be playing music this morning. He always does when he is in a particularly joyful mood. I started my morning meditations in the greenhouse a little earlier to get them out of the way before Winston began his. He is quite good at that instrument.

Burd laughed, How can you tell? Bagpipes always sound the same to me.

Has anyone seen Wingnut this morning? Vance asked sipping his coffee. Both men shook their heads. She’s probably still sleeping it off, best not to disturb her.

Afa nodded, Agreed Fekitoa, we all deal with our pain in our own way. He cocked his head in the general direction of Winston’s quarters, As well as our joy.

The large Polynesian served up the food he cooked and the three men took their places at the long oaken table in the large room by the kitchen. In days of yore this room was reserved for the small banquets and summits held by the many world leaders once frequenting this ship and had come to be referred to as the Ballroom by the crew. It was easily the largest room on the vessel, second only to the cargo hold and launch bay now turned greenhouse. In keeping with the style of the Kingship and her original mission, the furnishings and decorations were expensive and tasteful boasting the best influences of Victoria I’s era. Huge windows looked out over the foredeck and bow of Kingship and stained glass skylights brought multihued beauty when the sun’s angle was just right. Though much of the furniture had been removed and the remainder in sore need of reupholstery, the money Vance spent in restoring her was well worth it. An expensively framed photograph adorned the wall, one that Vance was grateful to have. It showed his grandfather dressed in uniform standing next to several Heads of State including the Queen. In their hands was the signed copy of the Aether Accords. The history books said those Accords were signed and ratified in London. That was only partially true as the non pomp and circumstance version of the event took place on the deck of the Kingship three thousand feet above London. Vance liked this room as it reminded him of the great things his grandfather accomplished and he could often be found here in his spare time, second only to the library.

The three men ate their breakfast discussing the previous night’s events with the Von Fersches. Before long they were joined by Winston, still toting his bagpipes and finally Wingnut. Afa made plates for each of them as they came in pouring an extra large cup of coffee for the petite engineer. At a glance one would not notice any evidence of a hangover or the emotional maelstrom from the previous evening. No words were said by her nor by anyone else. As Afa wisely said once, It is her cyclical ritual of grief. Until she, and only she, is willing to break that pattern, she will be forced to repeat it.

Finally, with their bellies ready for the day the silence reluctantly yielded and the crew began discussing the task of selling and trading.

Okay, Vance began, stepping into the shoes of the trader side of his personality. We have some prime sales real estate here. He motioned out the window across the field that was the traders market. I want to offload the rest of the machine parts and textiles. I’ve noticed there are several ships from India. We should try to procure a good shipment of assorted curry powders. We’re bound for England next and we always make great profit there with that. Wool is down right now so I’d rather hang onto what we have.

We have quite a bit there, lad, said Winston.

I know, but we can always sell that on the higher uplands.

What about that load o’ weapons grade plasmatite? asked Wingnut. There’s an awful lot o’ money to be had in that cargo."

We still don’t have the necessary permits to resell it. Vance explained. When we bought it from that mining upland over Spain I thought it would be easier to acquire them.

Afa asked What’s taking so long?

The Central London Trade Consortium is dragging their feet. I’ve wired them several times.

It’s me isn’t it? Burd asked somewhat ruefully.

Honestly? Probably. Sorry to say.

Burd shrugged, Can’t say I blame them. An AWOL deserter onboard must not make them too comfortable when dealing with plasmatite. Sorry, everybody.

You made the only choice your conscience would allow, said Afa. We are the better for your company.

Yes, agreed Molly. Thank you for that.

Vance quickly reverted to the business at hand in order to avoid recapping the past at this awkward time. We all know what goods we have onboard. Burd, you have toys to sell?

Burd’s eyes lit up in a way that only happened when he discussed a good fight, one of his rocket packs, or toy making, Aye Cap’n. I think I have almost three crates right now. I’m pretty sure I can offload two of them to ships heading large cities. The third one I have plans for.

I figured as much. How about you and Winston handle setting up in the market. Wingnut, you still have that list of parts we need? She nodded. Track as many down as you can. Afa and I will help you all get set up and then we’ll head over to Ulrich’s warehouse and get the cargo we’re being paid to transport.

Do we know anything else about that cargo, lad? asked Winston.

Not yet, the captain replied. Apparently a fairly hefty advanced payment and a letter are waiting for us though. All I know is that the wire we received said that this cargo was time sensitive. However, it looks to be a simple and well paying job.

Who knows, it might offset your fugitive cursed plasmatite, Burd said in a self mocking