The Complete Adventures of Victoria & Romney

By Michael White

 To the casual observer, the age of steam and the subsequent industrial revolution was to revolutionise the structure of Great Britain in almost every fundamental way. This time saw the rise of the middle class and the entrenchment of the upper class. The working class moved from rural employment to factories and mills. Towns and docks and harbours grew around the industries that the steam engine created to cater for them, and there it could have stopped. The Difference engine however created by Sir Charles Babbage was the first indication that the industrial revolution could head beyond industry, and with the completion of the Analytical Engine in 1834 a new revolution began to take place: this was the age of the technocrat, and the computational engines began to proliferate and become more commonplace. Machines that could think and make decisions, driven by steam and mechanisms of wood and brass, the likes of which had never been seen before. This was a very British revolution however. Queen Victoria sat upon her throne and saw her country grow to dominate the world, her trade and technology so advanced beyond any other that computational devices were common and in most well to do homes. Yet the workforce was needed even more, and outstripped the supply. By the middle of the nineteenth century drastic measures had to be taken by her majesty's government and the working classes were placed in designated areas, their currency being their availability for work in the factories and mills, the computational engines and the data sheds that they produced. The poor house was the start of this process, but with the new technology it was greatly expanded, and now all of the working classes were under the jurisdiction of the local mill and factory owners, the true drivers of this data fed industrial age. In the skies above London, Zeppelins filled the air, swollen with lighter than air gas and flame, and on the ground even the most trivial of items were gathered and improved upon by the computational engines. This was the age of steam, yes, but it was also the age of the analytical engines, and they made Britain the greatest power that the world has ever known.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mike White
• Release date: Feb 2, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215924112

Michael White

Michael White was a science lecturer before becoming a full-time writer and journalist. He is the author with John Gribbin of the bestselling ‘Stephen Hawking – A Lifetime in Science’. He is a regular contributor to the ‘Sunday Times’, the ‘Observer’,the ‘Daily Telegraph, GQ, Focus’ and ‘New Scientist’.

Book preview

The Adventures of

Victoria Neaves and Romney

Copyright © 2023 by Michael White / EDP. All rights reserved worldwide. No part of this publication may be replicated, redistributed, or given away in any form without the prior written consent of the author/publisher or the terms relayed to you herein.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.  Any resemblance to actual persons, living, dead or generally lurking around a steam funnel is completely coincidental.

Table of Contents

Victoriana

The Strange Case of the Denwick Beauchamp Fairies

The Vanished Man

The Cinder Path

The Clockwork Thief of Crickenden Broadwick

Romney’s Day Off

The Abbott Bowthorpe Dependables

A Long Age in the Deep Delved Earth

Victoriana

"To the casual observer, the age of steam and the subsequent industrial revolution was to revolutionise the structure of Great Britain in almost every fundamental way. This time saw the rise of the middle class and the entrenchment of the upper class. The working class moved from rural employment to factories and mills. Towns and docks and harbours grew around the industries that the steam engine created to cater for them, and there it could have stopped.

The Difference engine however created by Sir Charles Babbage was the first indication that the industrial revolution could head beyond industry, and with the completion of the Analytical Engine in 1834 a new revolution began to take place: this was the age of the technocrat, and the computational engines began to proliferate and become more commonplace. Machines that could think and make decisions, driven by steam and mechanisms of wood and brass, the likes of which had never been seen before. This was a very British revolution however. Queen Victoria sat upon her throne and saw her country grow to dominate the world, her trade and technology so advanced beyond any other that computational devices were common and in most well to do homes. Yet the workforce was needed even more, and outstripped the supply. By the middle of the nineteenth century drastic measures had to be taken by her majesty’s government and the working classes were placed in designated areas, their currency being their availability for work in the factories and mills, the computational engines and the data sheds that they produced. The poor house was the start of this process, but with the new technology it was greatly expanded, and now all of the working classes were under the jurisdiction of the local mill and factory owners, the true drivers of this data fed industrial age. In the skies above London, Zeppelins filled the air, swollen with lighter than air gas and flame, and on the ground even the most trivial of items were gathered and improved upon by the computational engines. This was the age of steam, yes, but it was also the age of the analytical engines, and they made Britain the greatest power that the world has ever known."

(Taken from Great Britain - A History

by William Rothschild)

Widdengham Manor, Buckinghamshire

London 1883

Victoria Neaves stood in the ballroom of the great hall in Widdengham Manor, staring at the vast array of people gathered there, the floor being filled with dancers parading about in their finest, the small orchestra nearby loud but not overly so, the room being large enough to absorb the sound relatively easily.

Yet all of these people made the room stuffy, the air clinging. It was a warm July evening and the doors that led out to the balconies around the outside of the manor hall were wide open, revealing lit gas lamps illuminating the open areas, the darkness held at bay by the lanterns therein.

Canape? said a brass clad butler as he wandered past, waving a tray to her.

No thank you. she said politely, moving within the throng towards the windows. As she did so she caught a view of herself in one of the mirrors at either end of the hall. She was not so tall as such, five foot one or so, and slim. She had long blonde hair that currently was pinned in a bun on her head but she knew that if she released it then it would come half way down her back. At her neck hung a short tiger's eye necklace, the large orange stone inert but not overly ostentatious. Her ball gown was long and a dark shade of lilac, her cosmetics matching perfectly. The gown was ruffled high at her neck and pooled about her ankles, covering her small but well-rounded figure completely. She smiled at herself, realising just how attractive she was, which was useful.

Ah. Victoria. There you are. said a voice nearby and she smiled, recognising her suitor who had accompanied her to the ball, George Rushden.

George. she smiled, half apologetically, We seemed to have become separated.

Indeed. said George stiffly, failing to keep the edge of annoyance out of his voice. Still. You are here now. She smiled, and linking arms with him began to move towards the balconies outside, taking him with her. Fresh air. she smiled, and George responded in kind, being dragged along as they went.

George! called a voice as they exited the ballroom and went out onto the gas lit balcony. George! repeated the voice, more insistently this time and Victoria saw George colour somewhat as a tall, handlebar mustached young man came pushing through the crowds of people towards them, brandishing what appeared to be a bread roll. Victoria assessed him quickly. He was red cheeked, eyes bright and wide. Either it was laudanum or he had taken too much to drink already.

Rupert. said George flatly, as Victoria hung to his arm, smiling widely at the newcomer.

George, old chap! said Rupert, clapping George rather roughly on the back. Fancy seeing you here! Rather dull so far though, don’t you think?

I don’t know! It all seems to be going quite well. said George, trying to push his way past the man who was not having any of it at all.

Perhaps you should introduce us? said Victoria, smiling sweetly at Rupert who, noticing her for the first time, beamed a smile at her.

I say. he spluttered, Things are looking up! Where did you find such a filly, George you old dog?

Quite. said George, his lips white and closed firmly. Victoria. This is Rupert Widdengham, the son and I should point out, heir to these fine premises. Rupert gave a deep mock bow and Victoria giggled. Rupert, this is Victoria Neaves. She is a secretary from the guild of Steam operatives. My father’s guild if you recall.

Quite. said Rupert. A secretary, eh? He looked down his nose at Victoria, sneering almost as he did so. Quite a well-connected group of people you are mingling with tonight I would hasten to suggest.

Oh yes sir. said Victoria. Quite a privilege I would say.

Of that there is no doubt. said Rupert, winking at George as he did so. So, is she a marvellous cook or just good between the sheets then old man? he smiled. George blushed, but Victoria looked at her feet as if in recognition that here she had no say and was just really part of the furniture as far as these two men - or indeed most of the men in the room - would attest.

I needed a partner for this evening and Miss Neaves was available. She was very obliged to attend.

No doubt you will see just how obliged later George. laughed Rupert, leering at Victoria. Perhaps you could go to the tables and bring us a sandwich or two from the buffet miss Neaves? We have man’s talk to attend to, if you will.

Certainly sir. said Victoria, and bowing to both George and Rupert, made her way to the table.

Give her one for me old man. she heard Rupert laugh as she walked away, and George laughed too.

She seems a bit of a cold fish really. she heard George say before concluding, I will see if I can warm her up later perhaps.

Once at the banqueting table she selected two plates, piling several sandwiches onto each, arranging them nicely and then slowly and carefully returning to the two men who were leaning in close, deep in conversation. She stood beside them with the plates for a moment or two and then she gave a small polite cough, the two men startling as she did so. Rupert at least seemed to have forgotten that she had been there at all, but nevertheless he snatched a plate off her and examined the sandwiches carefully, peeling back the bread to inspect their contents.

No ham? he tutted loudly and sighed, Perhaps I should go look myself. Never set a woman to do a man's job. he sneered, and George smiled at him as if this was the funniest thing he had ever heard.

I didn’t see any. said Victoria quietly, a tremor in her voice. Shall I go and look again? Perhaps there is someone I could ask?

No matter. said George loudly. These will suffice.

If I may be excused, I need to powder my nose. she said, sounding as if she was about to burst into tears.

Very well. said George through a mouth full of food. Just don’t be long. I will need your services sooner rather than later.

I should say so! roared Rupert from behind Victoria as she crossed the veranda and entered the ballroom once again. It was very hot in here she thought, and so skirted around the edge of the room, avoiding the dancers as she did so. She exited the ballroom and saw a small line of ladies and gentlemen walking off to her right towards the east wing and no doubt the location of the nearest water closets. She looked at them to check nobody was watching her, and then walked left instead, opening a large set of double doors and slipping inside the west wing, closing the doors behind her.

She was standing in a small wainscot corridor, lined with portraits of frowning no doubt Widdengham ancestors, and she walked quickly past them, exiting the corridor through another set of doors, and sure that nobody was about, entered the next room.

This room was enormous. It was dome shaped and rose she estimated hastily a good ninety feet above her head, a skylight allowing moonlight through the glass that puddled on the floor before her. There were a few gas lights around the circular edges of the huge room but the analytical engine that ran the house was no doubt tuned to keep them at a low level.

She walked towards the centre of the room. It had no discernible purpose that she could determine. It was empty of furniture, though there were several bookcases and sculptures dotted around the edge of the room.

She walked forward and as she did so touched a small clasp at the top of her gown, and as she did so the dress fell from her, falling to the floor. She was clad underneath in a black steel lined jumpsuit; lightly armoured but lightweight. Easy to move in. At her waist was a wide belt and she pulled from it now a set of thin black gloves and put them on, an audible click being apparent as they fitted into place.

Next from her belt she removed a small glass phial, and uncorking it she threw the contents over the gown that lay at her feet, moving carefully back from it as she did so. The gown was specially treated, and as the chemical hit it dark smoke rose from the cloth and it quickly disintegrated until there was nothing left of her dress at all, not even ash.

She pulled at the necklace at her neck and the orange stone changed colour, turning a deep crimson colour, almost the colour of blood.

All those damnable weeks in the typing pool. she said out loud, Trying to get noticed. All of that bloody typing and rolling eyes. Dear gods of the seventh level. I thought I was going to go insane!

She touched a small almost invisible switch on her glove and a small rope on a line shot into the air as if stirred by a rifle, landing in the roof high above her, just below the skylight, embedding itself into the masonry and brickwork easily.

Hold on Romney. she said, clutching the amulet about her neck, and with a rapid movement

the wire lodged in the roof began to shrink and as it did so she shot up into the air, winched above the room by the wire, and as she reached the roof she was travelling at quite a speed, and pressing another concealed button on her glove she swung up, shattering the glass and exiting onto the roof.

Nice work. said a voice from the amulet, chuckling softly to itself. I knew you were too good to be a bloody typist.

Oh god shut up Romney. she said, and began to run across the roof, completely unseen; as silent as a shadow.

The Licensing of Séance’s and the Rise of Demonology

The rise of interest in matters occult and arcane was at first scoffed at by the engineers of Great Britain's new technocracy, but like most scientists, the engineer’s curiosity was peaked and so studies began into the multitude of séances that were running like wild fire throughout the country. The discoveries made were astounding, the future of the country changed forever. It was discovered that the seven circles of demonology were real, and that was power there that could be used; harnessed. Thus, the establishment threw itself with great fervour into capitalising on this new area of science. The arrival of the first demonological powered computational engine was in itself astounding. That it was also completely sentient was beyond the wildest hopes of an emerging science. The higher circles of demonology were as would be expected aloof and unreachable, but at the lower circles of seven through to five the demons encountered there were malleable; of distinct use. Soon it was discovered how to bind them, to combine them with current science, and so demon driven clocks and timers were suddenly commonplace. This though was just the tip of the iceberg, for the demons seemed to enjoy being bound, to be of use, and used they were, from common household appliances to weapons and methods of warfare. The evolution of these devices when it came was sudden and expansive. There were rumours of certain professional societies conducting experiments with demons from the higher circles, but that was never confirmed by any of them, for to do so would force the other societies to concur that they were lagging behind in some way. It came as no surprise in 1861 then that the government passed a law that all séance’s were to be licensed, and this law was conducted with great expedience. No exceptions were allowed at all under pain of death.

(Taken from Great Britain - A History

by William Rothschild)

Victoria raced along the apex of the roof in the moonlight, heading west along the very top of the great manor towards the single highest tower that was now a mere hundred yards ahead of her, bright lights shining from within.

Got to give it to them guv. said the amulet, its voice heard only by Victoria, not because she was alone on the roof, but because the demon inside the amulet was bound to her and her alone. They’re not taking any chances with whatever they’ve got hidden in that ruddy tower.

Guards? she said.

Two by the door and three guarding a plinth in the centre of the room. There’s a small wooden brass box there.

‘What’s in it?" she asked, slowing her pace as she reached the tower, the windows of which were just ten feet or so above her now.

It’s hidden. said the demon Romney from inside the amulet. It’s giving me a bloody headache too; I can tell you if I try and have a gander.

Okay. she said. Leave it then. None of our business really. We just need to get the box. Whatever is in it is the business of the steelworker’s society and nobody else’s.

Okay. said the demon as Victoria reached into her belt and pulled out a small round object, and with a swing threw it deftly towards the window. It hit the frosted glass and smashed it easily, dropping into the room below. There was a brief sound of commotion from within the tower and then silence.

Victoria flicked her glove again and the grapnel hook shot from her glove and hit the roof, and she allowed it to pull her from the tiles and towards the window, where she stuck her legs out before her, arrow-like, and upon hitting the glass the window smashed completely and she somersaulted into the room, landing deftly on the floor inside besides the plinth on which stood a small carefully engraved box.

Around the room were five soldiers, all on the floor unmoving, their faces contorted in agony. There was a slight smell of ammonia about the room but Victoria did not pay it any heed. She was looking at the box on the plinth, examining it carefully, but not touching it.

It’s blood locked. said Romney.

Shit! hissed Victoria. Who to?

I think you will find that it is me. said a voice from the door, and Victoria turned to see Rupert smiling at her, a small pistol pointed at her head in his hand.

Victoria smiled but did not move as Rupert moved inside the room, his eyes never leaving her.

Which society are you working for? he asked, the gun never wavering, his eyes set on her, watching her every move. Artisans? Demonologists?

As if I would tell you. said Victoria, her eyes locking with his. Professionally that would be suicide.

That will be irrelevant shortly anyway. He pressed a brick on the wall of the tower and somewhere far below a bell began to ring urgently, barely audible from where they stood, but ringing none the less. This room will be flooded with guards very shortly.

I see. said Victoria, and Rupert watched as her cheek twitched and as she did so a small pocket on her belt opened and there was a small puff of smoke.

Rupert fell to the ground, the gun clattering to the floor as he did so, a small round hole now visible in the centre of his forehead, from which a small curl of smoke was rising up into the air.

Good shot. said Romney, chuckling dryly to himself.

Indeed. said Victoria, Now tell me if I am wrong but blood locked means that only the hand of the one it is locked to can remove this chest.

Correct. said the demon from the amulet, chuckling to himself, And unfortunately you just seem to have killed him.

Nobody says he has to be alive. she said, removing a small knife from the belt that expanded as she pulled it from the pocket holding it. She hunched over the figure and began to saw at the corpse. The knife was very sharp and it did not take long before he stood up holding Rupert’s hand in her own.

Call the skimmer! shouted Victoria as she approached the small wooden and brass box on the plinth.

On it’s way. said Romney. Arriving up top in two minutes.

From somewhere down below came the sound of shouting that was quickly getting nearer.

I knew I should have anchored it nearer. hissed Victoria, Still. Should make things interesting.

She held Rupert’s hand over the box on the plinth and slowly lowered it onto the box, sweat trickling down her back as she did so.

Third circle guarding it? she said nervously.

Almost certainly. said the demon."

Just move it off the top of the plinth?

Yes.

Okay. said Victoria, steeling herself as with Rupert's hand she pushed the box slowly to the edge of the plinth and then with a last budge pushed it off it altogether, trying to catch it with her other hand, but it landed awkwardly and the chest fell to the floor, the lid opening as it hit the ground, a small brass coloured object falling out from it. Victoria kneeled down and picked it up,

What is it? asked Romney and Victoria shook her head.

It was a small brass device, consisting of several small thin strips of circular metal running around each other in concentric circles. In the centre of the small metal cage spun a small red circle, crimson coloured yet about the size of a ball bearing. It twinkled slightly, almost like an eye that was watching her closely. Victoria counted four circles of the brass like metal but then on an impulse placed it carefully back into the chest and closed it shut.

I don’t think we were meant to see that. said Victoria and she heard Romney grunt in affirmation. What was it? A gyroscope of some sort?

No idea. said the demon. Didn’t like the look of it much though, I can tell you that for nothing.

From her belt she produced a small net and wrapped it around the chest and then slung it over her shoulder and onto her back, where it seemed almost to adjust itself and lock into place, holding the small box securely there.

Let’s go! she shouted, jumping up to the window she had entered by with a great leap and then crawling out through the broken glass and up onto the round tiled turret of the tower.

The wind blew strongly now across the rooftops, and through the moonlight she saw a small zeppelin moving rapidly towards her, its turbo props spinning rapidly, a rope trailing from the device.

Thank the seven for automated drones. she smiled as the voices from below grew louder and louder, and as they burst into the room and noticed the smashed window Victoria leapt from the roof, catching the rope dangling from the zeppelin easily, drifting away from the manor and into the night.

Operate the mist, Romney. she said, slowly climbing the rope to the small empty cabin hanging below the drone.

Certainly mistress. said the demon as a head poked out from the smashed window in the tower, and then another, the zeppelin faded into nothing and disappeared into the dark London night.

The State of Nations

"With the race for technology having been won by Great Britain there was a certain national interest in keeping the technology secret from anyone perceived to be a foreigner. The kingdoms of Saxony and the Archduchy of Austria were particularly voracious in attempting to steal the new found technology for themselves, but so advanced were the British by now that this was easily avoided. There were certain authorities in place to do this of course; the police and the military in particular, but these were mere amateurs in comparison to the secrecy that the professional societies held about their methods and discoveries. Outbreaks of fighting between these societies were of course not uncommon, but they were hushed up; brushed over, and rumours that a new professional society of assassins was now in existence was thought of as nothing more than a rumour. This was a mistake for the society of assassins were

much sought after. The assassins were delighted to be paid for any sort of job that may prove embarrassing should anything go wrong and the real perpetrators were revealed. This problem did not exist with the society or association of assassins because officially they did not actually exist at all. It was however commented on by several prominent figures at the time that for a society that did not exist, they did appear to be very, very busy."

(Taken from Great Britain - A History

by William Rothschild)

Victoria watched the city of London from the public cabin of the passenger zeppelin as it maneuvered slowly around the steeples of Whitehall, before docking with the exit tower for the city and heart of the city. Many would argue she thought that the financial quarter was the heart of the British empire, but she knew that this was not the case. It was the professional societies and politicians that ran the empire, and Whitehall was the heart of this.

The ether driven lift descended down the landing tower to ground level and Victoria and the other passengers dispersed, Victoria heading to a nondescript building and striding inside. She ignored the reception desk and ran her thumb over a small brass plate by the lift and the door pinged open. She pressed a button inside and the lift began to move, stopping at the sixth floor.

The doors slid open and she entered a plush office, a small desk to one side, behind which was sitting a small round-faced woman with bouffant hair.

Hello Victoria. said the woman with an easy smile. Mister Smith will see you straight away.

Aren’t I the lucky one? smiled Victoria, and walking past the desk behind which the woman was sat she knocked on the large wooden door and waited.

Come! came a voice from inside and Victoria turned the handle on the door and went inside.

The office was furnished to a very high standard, the wooden walls and brass lights contrasting perfectly with the deep piled red rug underfoot. There was a large desk in front of a window that looked out over the city, a huge picture of Queen Victoria on the wall lit from an ether lamp from underneath, and the picture was draped on either side by the Union Jack. Behind the desk sat a large man, a monocle in one eye, a pipe in his mouth. As Victoria entered, he stood and walked around the desk, shaking her hand.

Good work on the Widdengham thing. he said in an upper-class voice, puffing smoke from his pipe across the room. The society of steam workers are ruddy furious! He laughed deeply and returned to sit behind his desk, gesturing for Victoria to take a seat in front of him. The steel worker’s society however are singing your praises most highly for the return of the box.

Thank you, sir. she said, watching him as he turned from her and looked out across the city.

You seem to be on a bit of a good wicket at the moment Victoria he said without looking at her. I have someone I would like you to meet. It was he who put us onto the retrieval of the box in the first place.

I see. she said.

Smith turned a brass dial on his desk. Send in Mister Prentice please... he said and switched the dial again.

The door opened almost immediately and a short man entered the room confidently, crossing to the desk and shaking Smith’s hand furiously.

Glad you could find the time to meet with me. said the man, turning to shake Victoria’s hand too. She found his grasp weak and clammy, and was glad when he released her hand and sat down beside her.

Not a problem at all. said Smith. Victoria, this is Mister Alberney Prentice. He is a representative of Her Majesty’s Government.

Charmed, I am sure. said Victoria, re-appraising the man sitting beside her. He wore a tightly striped blue pinstripe suit and small round glasses. He was almost bald and looked thin and distracted almost. His fingernails however were carefully trimmed, his small grey moustache neat and tidy.

Civil servant. thought Victoria, and so was quite surprised with what he said next.

Are you familiar with current international politics Miss Neaves? he said, a frown crossing his face.

Any particular sphere? she asked, smiling. Prentice smiled back, but it did not reach his eyes.

I am thinking in particular the state of Saxony and the Archduchy of Austria.

In relation to the German Empire I suspect?

Indeed. smiled Prentice, taking off his glasses, peering through the lenses and then replacing them. I think I can ascertain that you are familiar with the desire for unification between these three countries. Such a unification is of course against the wishes of her majesty’s government.

Of course.

It would appear that the German Empire have been quite voracious in the their...shall we say... search for some of our most secret research. In fact, but a week ago one of our most highly thought of scientists quite simply disappeared from a locked laboratory within one of our most highly guarded compounds. To say the least this caused us quite a significant amount of inconvenience.

But what has this got to do with the Germanic states? asked Victoria.

Indeed. I was coming to that. One of our people placed in Germany has information that but a few days ago this scientists name was mentioned at a briefing at the highest level.

Yet he has not been seen there?

Not at all. Our man in Germany seemed to indicate that the Germans are just as baffled as we are.

Yet where do I come into all this? asked Victoria, and Prentice smiled, a smile almost like a slit cut across his face.

The box you retrieved from the society of artificers last night contained a mock-up of some of the work that this scientist was working on. It was imperative that it was returned to the right society, that is the society that our missing scientist belonged to. I think you will understand that these societies can be... shall we say... competitive?

Smith snorted behind the desk and Prentice gave him a weak smile before continuing.

Her majesty’s government simply wondered now that this device has been returned to its rightful owner if you could cast an eye over the said laboratory. Any outside input would be more than welcome.

Sir? asked Victoria, getting Smith’s attention.

We would be delighted to accept. said Smith.

Excellent. said Prentice, The offices he was working from are at Greenwich. He handed Victoria a slim folder. This is the precise address. Please report to the front desk and I shall meet you there. Nine am sharp tomorrow morning if you could.

Of course. I will do all that I can to assist. smiled Victoria, taking the folder from him.

Just one question. asked Victoria as Prentice stood to leave.

Of course. he smiled, straightening his what Victoria considered to be somewhat plain tie.

What was this scientist working on? she asked, smiling.

Prentice looked as if he had been struck. He pulled at his collar as if it was suddenly too tight and looked around him nervously.

I am afraid I am not at leave to tell you that. he said, stammering over his words slightly. Suffice to say it was work at the very highest level.

Of course. smiled Smith, Of course. We understand. He stood and guided Prentice from his office almost, arm lightly on the man's back before returning and sitting behind his desk once again.

Be careful Victoria. he whispered, as if afraid of being overheard. Be very, very careful. Slippery bastard is Prentice, mark my words. Just keep your eyes open and trust nobody.

Of course, sir. said Victoria. Of course.

The zeppelin to Greenwich ran precisely on time, gliding over the Thames, carrying a full cabin of business people to work on the south bank of the river. Upon docking with the platform Victoria took the lift down to street level and after asking a policeman for directions made her way to the rather austere looking building that she had in Prentice’s note. Upon reporting to the anonymous looking reception desk, the woman behind the desk made a quick phone call and then asked her to sit which she did.

Romney. said Victoria in her mind, Switch to non-vocal mode. I don’t want Mister Prentice to hear us talking.

No problem boss. said her third circle demon in her mind.

Thanks. thought Victoria, smiling at the receptionist sweetly.

Prentice appeared a few minutes later through a set of double doors behind the reception desk and shook Victoria’s hand vigorously.

Thank you so much for coming. he smiled. Please follow me. and holding the door open for her he guided her into the corridor that lay beyond.

To Victoria it seemed quite a busy place, a contrast to the solemn reception area. Some of the men working there were in suits, as was Prentice, but some wore long white coats as well. There certainly seemed to be quite a mix. She followed Prentice along the corridor at a brisk pace until they reached a lift, the doors of which swished open as they arrived and the man ushered her inside pressing the very bottom button, and the lift began to descend.

They stood in silence as the lift descended, which it seems to do for quite some time. After a minute Victoria could not hold her curiosity in check any longer.

Quite a descent. she smiled and Prentice nodded.

The work Mister Randolph was working on was very hush hush. The further down we go the more secret the research I think you will find.

And you pressed the bottom button. smiled Victoria. To her amusement Prentice actually looked embarrassed.

I did indeed. he managed eventually.

Excellent. said Victoria. I really do enjoy intrigue and a mystery.

Quite so. smiled Prentice, obviously not agreeing with her. Quite so.

Eventually the lift stopped and the doors opened onto a brightly lit metal lined corridor which ended no more than twenty feet ahead of them, frosted glass double doors barring whatever lay beyond. Two armed soldiers stood in front of the doors looking at them suspiciously as they left the lift. Prentice produced a small card and showed it to the two men however and they moved aside, holding the door open for them. Victoria was quite surprised as she entered a large chamber, the centre of which was a huge round wall of glass that ran in a circular fashion inside the cavern in which they found themselves.

Looks like a bloody big goldfish bowl. Chuckled Romney in her mind and she bit down sharply on her lip to stifle a giggle, for that was precisely what it resembled.

Inside the glass bowl was an office of some sort, and as they approached it Victoria saw that there was a small metallic walkway that ran around the circular glass room. There appeared to be no other exits from the cavernous room at all.

All very impressive. smiled Victoria and Prentice returned a tight-lipped smile. Is it a quarantine?

I beg your pardon? said Prentice as Victoria looked inside the office. It also has one single door that seemed to be hermetically sealed, the only evidence of it actually being a door at all being a small round door handle.

A sealed chamber. said Victoria. I have seen the like before, though nothing on this scale, in experiments regarding gases and the like.

Nothing like that at all. sniffed Prentice. You must understand Miss Neaves that I cannot tell you what Mister Randolph was working on. Not at all. But I will say that it was not gas or the like. The globe is triple sealed. It may look especially transparent, but the vessel’s walls are two feet thick. It is glass because we wanted to be able to contain but also observe everything that happened in the sphere during the conduct of the experiment.

I see. smiled Victoria. So, it is a quarantine of kinds.

Of information only. smiled Prentice, and Victoria nodded, beginning to walk around the sphere, Prentice in tow. Tell me what happened. she said and they came to a stop as Victoria stooped to observe one of the long flat benches inside the sphere before standing and continuing her circuit.

Very well. said Prentice, but remember that I am just a very highly placed civil servant; not a scientist.

I am neither. smiled Victoria. Proceed.

Three days ago, Randolph's was alone in the sphere commencing an experiment that he had informed his superiors was the final stage in testing a new discovery that he was, according to them, rather excited about. When these experiments take place, we ensure total security inside the sphere and outside by placing six armed guards around the office, equidistantly placed. Just a precaution really. Three of these men face outwards and three face inwards, observing the laboratory inside the sphere.

A good precaution. said Victoria.

Quite. The experiment proceeded as per usual, and Randolph was working on a piece of equipment more or less in the centre of the room.

Besides the large glass tank on the bench there? pointed Victoria.

Just so. The six guards say that they saw nothing at all, and nothing is out of place within the sphere, but one moment Randolph's was standing there, the next he was not.

Any traces of ash or dust, remnants of a burst of energy. Prentice looked confused. Smoke? she said, raising an eyebrow.

Nothing whatsoever. The experiment continued even though Randolph was by now... absent, but as the controls were not being manipulated a security system closed them down automatically after thirty seconds.

In case of death.

Yes. said Prentice. A dead man’s handle if you will.

A wise precaution. Victoria looked inside the sphere as if thinking, standing there for a good minute or so before continuing. The security systems seem to agree that Randolph is dead for a start.

Yes.

Is there anything missing? Any part of his research or lab equipment?

We have had one of Randolph’s close colleagues give the place a once over and he says nothing is missing.

Very well. said Victoria having completed her circle of the sphere and now standing by