The Circus Infinitus: 1914

By Ethan Somerville

In the guise of beautiful Russian noblewoman Galina Perentina, the demon lord Vladrakov has only seven years to live. At first she makes the most of her time on Earth, but as it starts dwindling away, she becomes determined to extend her life by any means necessary.

She seeks out Gurpreet Gopal of the Intelligent Gentlemen’s club, but not even he can overcome Professor Abbacus’ spell. She is forced to ally herself with mortal enemies.

Holy men Sir Hubert Fotherington, Bishop Paul Victoris and Thomas Torquemade IX have been trying to stop the Circus Infinitus since its creation.

Vladrakov discovers the perfect spell, but Abbacus’ enchantment has specific limitations. She cannot kill or harm, and the clerics refuse to participate in sorcerous Magick.

What solution could such a bizarre union create? In 1914, Vladrakov’s time runs out, and she refuses to depart without a war.

Warning:
This book contains gay and straight sex scenes.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Storm Publishing
• Release date: Nov 19, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005696597

Ethan Somerville

Ethan Somerville is a prolific Australian author with over 20 books published, and many more to come. These novels cover many different genres, including romance, historical, children's and young adult fiction. However Ethan's favourite genres have always been science fiction and fantasy. Ethan has also collaborated with other Australian authors and artists, including Max Kenny, Emma Daniels, Anthony Newton, Colin Forest, Tanya Nicholls and Carter Rydyr.

Book preview

The Circus Infinitus

1914

By

Ethan Somerville

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SMASHWORDS EDITION

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PUBLISHED BY:

Storm Publishing on Smashwords

The Circus Infinitus – 1914

Copyright © 2022 by Ethan Somerville

www.stormpublishing.net

Smashwords Edition License Notes

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Chapter 1

Amongst the stately buildings on London’s Pall Mall, towered an ornate Georgian structure with tall, Doric columns out front. These supported an ornate pediment decorated with figures from ancient Greek legends. All the windows were shuttered so no passers-by could look in, and the heavy, embossed metal doors were firmly closed. This was the main entrance to the famous and extremely exclusive IntelliGent Gentlemen’s Club, a private establishment only for the very smartest of individuals.

Entry was mainly by invitation, but could sometimes be achieved by the very alert, who noticed the club’s unique property. Sometimes it was there, sometimes it wasn’t. And sometimes, it appeared in other locations around London, even in the darkest, dingiest of back-alleys.

Like a certain flying circus that had recently returned to the city, the club could move. Unlike the Circus Infinitus, it preferred to keep itself secret. Its owner, Gurpreet Gopal, aka the IntelliGent, preferred to achieve his aims in darkness, in the background, and undercover.

Today, a warm summer’s day in August, 1909, the Gent was sharing his study with four others. Three were seated around a large coffee table talking animatedly about the return of that infamous travelling circus. This group consisted of Sir Hubert Fotherington aka the Monocle, head of the Morality Police, Bishop Paul Victoris, a high-ranking priest of the Stigmata, and Thomas Torquemada IX of the Spanish Inquisition. They were exceptionally powerful clerics, an unlikely and uneasy alliance of the Science and Magick Earths.

Unbeknownst to them, they were only honorary members of this club. Oh, they were extremely cluey, and might have been smart enough to pass the final tests, but the Gent wasn’t about to let them anywhere near the really evil tomes. Also, he doubted he would be allowed to read their minds. Their staunch faith would probably prevent him from gaining access to their innermost thoughts.

However, he did want them in his club so he can keep a close eye on them and maybe pick their brains for clues about immortality. He was starting to feel his age.

Fotherington was a tall, distinguished gentleman with a high forehead and a prodigious moustache now liberally streaked with grey. He wore a dark-grey pin-striped suit, and a monocle on a gold chain, tucked neatly into his top pocket. He always carried a briefcase with the Morality Police’s logo embossed on it – crossed whip and paddle for the dispensing of discipline.

Both articles were also inside the briefcase, along with spare note pads and pencils for recording the many sins he encountered during his everyday activities. In the past, he’d presented extremely detailed submissions to Queen Victoria, who always granted her authorisation to act upon them. The Monocle and his Morality Police had quickly and efficiently shut down numerous tawdry, sinful establishments in and around London. They had arrested everyone found inside, escorted them back to the Morality Police’s headquarters and arranged their punishments. The MP were immune to bribes and ensured the city appeared, at least on the surface, to be a bastion of virtue. Their reprimands were not severe, but painful and humiliating. Victims were also named and shamed in the newspapers, to deter them from ever sinning again.

However, the current monarch, that inveterate libertine Bertie, didn’t much care for morality. Bertie began his rule paying lip service to the reports, but was soon ignoring the Monocle, and then refusing to see him altogether. However, he stopped short of officially disbanding the Morality Police, still wanting to appear to be supporting the organisation. Thus, Fotherington’s Punishment Officers had started to feel useless, and most had drifted off to work for more mundane law-enforcement departments. The Monocle was now at a loose end - the reason why he had agreed to this meeting with the bishop and the Jesuit.

In contrast to the tall, angular Monocle, Bishop Victoris was squat and extremely fat. He had an entire couch all to himself. He wore a gleaming white surplice over a black cassock, and a richly bejewelled stole. His bald head was always gleaming with sweat.

Thomas Torquemada wasn’t quite as tall as the Monocle or as short as Victoris, but extremely muscular. He always wore a plain black monk’s robe and sandals, regardless of the weather. He had lots of thick, curly black hair and a bushy moustache. He sat back in his chair, arms folded, the plate of snacks in front of him largely untouched. During gaps in their conversation, the bishop eyed it hungrily. He had already polished off his own sandwiches, and half of Fotherington’s without the morality policeman’s knowledge.

The Gent was seated nearby, holding a book open in his lap. He was both reading and listening intently to the interesting conversation. So, the Circus Infinitus had finally returned to town, had it?

Our mission? How can you ask such a thing? It is what it has always been - to shut down that vile den of freaks and evil magicians for good! Sir Hubert gave a disdainful sniff, and then glanced down at his plate to select another sandwich. He noticed they were all gone. I must have eaten them all, he thought.

Actually, it isn’t, said Victoris. He reached for his wine glass and took a generous gulp. Not anymore.

Fotherington gaped at him. "You can’t be serious. That sordid carnival spreads sin and degradation wherever it goes! I’d hoped, after the Martian Invasion, it would disappear for good, but nooo – it keeps popping up at various sites all over the world, like a dose of Bubonic Plague!"

At the mention of the Martian Invasion, Victoris lifted a fat finger to his lips, and then gestured over his shoulder. Not in the direction of the Gent, who knew all about the Church’s role in suppressing memories about that horrific event, but at the fifth person occupying the study.

A beautiful young woman with lots of luxurious blonde curls tumbling down her back, was perched on one of the ladders, perusing some volumes on the upper-most shelves. She was dressed in a short, tightly-fitting jacket, bloomers and high-heeled leather boots.

"A woman?" Fotherington exclaimed in horror. "Since when were such cattle allowed in here? This is the IntelliGent’s Gentlemen’s club!"

To the Monocle’s surprise, neither Victoris or Torquemada appeared perturbed. Fotherington couldn’t believe his senses. His companions were extremely old-fashioned Catholic clerics from the Magick Earth, even more conservative than he.

Victoris spread his hands. She obviously met the criteria and was allowed in.

You needn’t worry, Monocle, Torquemada soothed, She might be clever, but she will never be able to use her knowledge. In any situation where esoteric information is required, she will be far too fragile and emotional to focus.

Sir Hubert was not convinced. He folded his arms and flopped back in his chair with a very loud harrumph. I’m not sure about any of this! Women allowed in such an exclusive establishment, and you two talking about not wanting the Circus Infinitus stopped. Obviously, the world’s gone quite topsy-turvy!

The bishop glanced at the woman again, and then leaned his huge bulk forward. His seat creaked ominously beneath his weight. He continued in a low voice, Sir Hubert, you are correct; this world is changing, and not in a good way. European politics here is becoming dominated by two huge rival alliances. Back in 1871, the creation of a unified Germany disturbed the old balance of power, and fear of Germany encouraged France and Russia to form an alliance in 1894. As such, Germany is drawing into a closer alliance with its neighbour, the Austro-Hungarian Empire. Everyone is arming themselves.

Fotherington flipped a perfectly-manicured hand. "Oh, spare me the history lesson, Bishop. I am a native of this planet after all, and quite aware of these events. Where are you going with this?"

"Unfortunately, because we … er … encouraged everyone to forget the Marian invasion, no-one remembers banding together to defeat the common enemy, the bishop continued in the same ominous voice. No-one wants a world war, but because all that comradery is gone, old grudges are surfacing, causing all this sabre rattling. Like it or not, the Circus Infinitus is growing in size and popularity. It has become a tangible force, spreading joy and happiness wherever it goes. It draws people’s minds away from their poverty, their stress, and their dreary, meaningless little lives."

Harrumph, said the Monocle again.

Scientific advancements are accelerating, taking this world over, said Torquemada. They are causing empires to rise and arm, populations to spread out of control, and people to turn from God. We feel, without calming influences like the Circus Infinitus’, that a war is inevitable. We must work with such organisations to stop this from occurring.

Fotherington’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head. "Work with that reprehensible carnival? he scoffed. An alliance with such aberrant evil? Have you taken leave of your senses? I most certainly do not support this."

Hear me out – I do have a plan. Torquemada pressed his fingertips together. First, I propose a visit to the circus. After all, none of us have visited it in years. It may actually have become a more reputable place.

Sir Hubert snorted. I doubt that! Given the frightful promiscuity of society these days, I’ll warrant it has gotten worse. Just look at our blasted king! He ruts like a billygoat.

You are probably correct, but it will be our job to investigate it thoroughly, the inquisitor continued diplomatically. It’s too big and popular for us to shut it down by force. We tried, several times in the past, and failed each time. But maybe now we can … persuade the Ringmaster to make some changes.

Persuade the Ringmaster? How d’you propose we do that? He’s a mentalist of the highest order, and a Satanist to boot! Fotherington slapped his knees. He will not change.

Torquemada reached into a pouch at his waist and drew out a small, glowing object. It looked like a rock studded with hundreds of tiny crystals. It sparkled in the light of the Gent’s chandelier. It was quite mesmerising. I think he will. The Pope has authorised me to use this to convert him.

The bishop gasped.

"What … what is that?" Fotherington gasped.

That’s – that’s a fallen star! Victoris exclaimed in wonder. "However did you get it?"

Torquemada gave a thin smile. "The Pope gave it to me personally. He has blessed it, and in my hands, powered by my will, it will convert Necronites. Full Necronites."

Victoris’ eyes gleamed with excitement.

What on Earth’s a fallen star? asked the Monocle.

It’s not from the Earth, said Torquemada softly. "It’s