The Adventures of Albert Timmons, Engineer Extraordinaire

By Dee Blackshear

Dr. Albert Timmons’ brilliant steam designs are known throughout the world. People wanting to use them for criminal purposes will do anything to get their hands on them and even resort to kidnapping.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dee Blackshear
• Release date: Dec 7, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215212349

Dee Blackshear

Check out my blog for information about me. http://dblackshear4writing.weebly.com/

Book preview

Episode 1 In a strange place

A streak of pain jolted Albert awake. His groggy eyes tried to focus. Not even a faint glimmer of light penetrated the darkness around him.

Just don’t get killed trying it out. His brother’s caution from fifteen years earlier flashed across his mind.

Albert had come close over the years. A broken leg and arm, the scar on his face were some of the results; but why remember it today? Could this be the result of another experiment gone bad? Am I blind? He twisted his head side to side in agony at the thought. That seemed to be the only part of his body he could move. Hands and feet were constricted. Even something was tight against his throat. Disoriented in the dark, he moaned and lost consciousness again.

The life-sized clown, its mechanical workings exposed to the world, winked and bowed. Albert pressed his face against the display window. His wide eyes studied the shining wheels and swirling cogs. Large ones moved slowly while small gears within them were fast. They all moved together with precision. What he would give to have one of those machines. Small for his age, not built like his tall father and older brother, many people took him for a younger child. But he would be thirteen on his next birthday. For his present, this was what he wanted. Albert favored his mother who was delicate. She died from influenza, and Albert almost succumbed as well. Since then, they treated him like a sickly child. His adventurous spirit and talented mind frustrated their attempts to control him. He was stronger than they knew; Father and brother would have to be convinced.

Come along Albert! His older brother in full naval uniform stood at the open door of their carriage. Jack picked up his brother at school and then ran some errands. On leave from the navy, he was impatient to get moving.

Jack, did you see that? The clown. Can I have one?

Hurry, we don't have time to visit the Emporium of Mechanical Wonders. You know father doesn’t like us to be late. Besides, it’s Dad you have to convince. Jack climbed in and pulled Albert up behind him.

As the horse clip-clopped along the cobblestones, he turned around and watched while the shop faded from view. His shoulders slumped for a moment. Father, a retired Admiral held him under tight rein. He knew what the answer would be, No!

Those turning gears called to him, almost in tune with his beating heart. There must be a way. Maybe research the mechanisms and design something better. The power to make it run could be compacted. That large steam system with pipes leading to a stove was cumbersome. This was the modern 1870s, there had to be a whole bunch of stuff written about it. Albert sat up and grinned. No problem. I can build one of those in the carriage house.

Jack glanced over at his brother’s glowing face. Knowing his fondness for adventure, he commented, Just don’t get killed trying it out.

*****

Albert woke again. Where was he? The last thing he remembered was reaching for his front door, after that everything was blank. He tried to concentrate, but his mind kept drifting. Did someone drug him? Why the pain in his head? He shifted and tried to turn. With the movement, pain jolted through him and caused his stomach to heave. The hold around his throat hampered his ability to throw up, he would gag on his on vomit. Straightening his knees, the metal tightness eased around his throat. Deep measured breaths controlled the stomach contractions.

Episode 2 He meets Tattoo and Burly Man

Albert ignored his throbbing head and evaluated the situation. He was standing, that was evident. The metal wall behind him felt cold and hard. Clamps fastened across his hands, feet, and throat held him spread-eagle, immobile. His sour body odor told him he was imprisoned for several days.

A faint crack of light appeared in the darkness. As it grew brighter, heavy feet pounded the floor. Relieved to discover he was not blind, Albert stood at attention and waited. Keys rattled. A door swung open, and light flooded in. In the sudden glare, he stood exposed to whatever came next.

Well, I’m glad you’re awake. Saves me some trouble. The captain wants to see you. And don’t you look a sight! A harsh laugh echoed against the walls.

As Albert’s eyes adjusted, he strained to glance down. All his clothing was removed except for long johns. The special tools and hidden devices were gone.

The man holding the lantern studied him. He sneered at Albert’s expression. Oh, did you think Captain would let you keep your toys? Hm. I thought you would be bigger, to fit your reputation. You’re just a light weight.

A whistle sounded, and then a hollow voice called, What’s the hold-up? Bring him to me.

An elbow poked him in the ribs. As he drew in a sharp breath, a man bent and fumbled with the clamps on his feet. Next came the hands, and lastly, the hold around his neck came off. Albert’s knees went weak as he was freed. A shove from a hefty fist caused him to stumble headfirst. As he fell, a hand grabbed him by the collar of his underwear.

The man with the lantern held it high. The light revealed a twisted grotesque face. Blackened teeth appeared when he snarled, Move!

Albert struggled to stand and gripped the door frame for balance.

A fist gripped him by the back of his long johns and shook him free. Not much bigger than a scrawny cat.

Lit only by the lantern they moved forward along a dark corridor. In bare feet, he stumbled along following the bobbling light. As blackness closed in behind them, Albert focused on their steps and counted them. His hand trailed along the wall seemingly for support but also searched for clues. A cold handle, hinges, slits in the panels; their locations in the dark could be useful.

It was a ship, a steam powered device. The pistons pounded and vibrated through the wall. His ears picked up the whistle of released steam. How did he get on a ship? Or more important, how long was he unconscious? If this was a kidnap for ransom, well getting his father to pay was iffy. They did not have the kind of money that was usually demanded.

Reaching a dead end, the man grasped a protruding knob and shoved the wall aside. A small, enclosed room appeared.

Get in!

He was pushed in by that aggravating fist. His eyes flashed with anger. One day the man will regret that.

They all squeezed in the small space. Setting his lantern on the floor, the man nodded at his companion. He gripped the panel and pulled it shut.

A finger poked Albert in the rib. Don’t move.

It took both men to crank a metal handle on the wall. At each squeaky turn, they jerked upward.

Ah, they were in some kind of lift. Albert leaned back against the wall and studied his companions in the lantern’s light.

The two men were huge. One was tattooed completely over his arms and his neck. The other looked like a giant bear, burly hair and beard covered his face. They did not appear too smart, though.

Out loud, the tattooed man counted the turns, every now and then skipping a number. When he reached forty, Tattoo stopped and shoved the door open. He growled at the metal wall before him and looked up. The box was three feet below the floor. Ah, missed it again. They gave two more turns and raised it even with the floor.

The two men stepped into the room, leaving Albert alone in the lift. Deciding not to be too eager, he waited with arms crossed and leaned against the wall.

Dr. Timmons, come in. You two oafs, escort our honored guest into the room.

Episode 3 Captain Caesar Napoleon

I don’t need help.

Albert pushed off from the wall and entered a bright room. Windows lined one side and sunlight streamed in. A huge oil painting hung on the back wall. It depicted a silver haired man holding the world in one hand and flashes of light coming from the other one. His beard hung in waves down his chest. Dark, beady eyes stared menacingly at something in the distance.

Impressive, isn’t it? a loud boisterous voice demanded.

Turning toward the voice, a mirror caught his attention. He stopped and examined his reflection. With an expression of amusement, Albert studied his slender, medium tall form. Hair usually so carefully groomed, now lay dirty and greasy plastered against his head. Beard growth indicated three maybe four days. A healing bruise streaked down the right side of his face. Long johns usually a meticulous white was streaked with stains. Bare toes wiggled in the soft carpet. So much for dignity.

Welcome! A silver haired man identical to the picture sat at his desk and waved at him. Goodness, what happened to your clothes?

I wondered the same thing.

Tattoo shrugged. You told us to remove all his gadgets. So, we took off everything. They were full of stuff.

Well at least bring him his pants and shirt.

And my belt too. I have trouble holding them up without it, Albert demanded.

The two men climbed in the lift, closed the door, and pulled the squeaky chains. His eyes gleamed with amusement. Their return could take a while.

Can I get you anything while we wait for your garments?

He felt dirty. Always a neat dresser, this put him at a disadvantage. I could do with some answers, but first water to wash with.

Of course. The man reached to a series of levers fastened on his desk and pulled one forward. A wall panel slid down. Flowing water bubbled into a basin. Next to it was a folded towel and bar of soap.

When finished washing, Albert dabbed at the bump on the side of his face.

I'm afraid the men were a little rough. But I needed you here immediately.

Loud squeaks followed by a thump gave notice of the lift’s arrival. The door opened a couple of feet above their floor.

Your pants are here. Slip them on and we will talk.

Tattoo threw his shirt, pants, and belt down to him. Albert pulled the pants up and tucked his shirt in. While fastening the belt, fingers stealthily examined the large buckle. It had not been torn apart. One gadget was still intact. Though barefoot, he felt civilized again.

Sit. His captor motioned to a large leather chair placed in front of him. The man pulled a lever at his desk and another panel opened to reveal a food cart. Bursts of steam propelled it toward them. The captain pushed a lever back and the cart stopped beside him. Tattoo in the interval managed to get the lift even with the floor and walked over. He poured coffee into cups.

Albert took the cup and let his body sink into the soft cushion. He accepted a plate filled with finger sandwiches. Munching on the food, he studied the room. No clocks ticked. That was fascinating. How did the man keep time? An amber glowing box on the wall caught his attention. It looked vaguely familiar. Of course, it was the tube clock. Something he invented and described in a scientific journal. Numbers brightened as power was applied to the cathodes. The time changed as he watched. I made one of these. Needs continually recharging with neon gas.

Yes, my man comes in every morning and evening to pump in more gas. Your details were accurate, though. That’s where you first caught my attention. My engineers were able to build a precise copy.

With the plate of food now finished, he felt a little more in control. What more gadgets did the man have? But first, and the most important piece of information, I need to know why I’m here.

"Ah, but I forgot the introductions. You of course are Doctor Albert Timmons, engineer extraordinaire. I am Captain Caesar Napoleon.

At the man’s name, Albert's hand shook with suppressed laughter. He decided to play a little game with him. What if I told you that I'm not Timmons, only a lowly professor of theology? You took the wrong man!

Ah, that's good, a joke. You already gave yourself away, but adding to the humor, here's a newspaper article. He held out a clipping with Albert's face clearly exposed. What I can't understand is why a hot air balloon?

He shrugged. One of my devices got stuck in a tall tree. I used the balloon to get it loose. I didn't want it to fall and break.

Tangled together in the tree, you were more worried about the machine than yourself. When you unfastened the straps and fell, it says you cracked a rib. Also, the scar on your cheek is new. The captain smiled.

Albert ignored the man’s comments and leaned forward in the chair. Not all experiments go as planned. Now, tell me why I am here.

The captain drummed his fingers on the desk. A project I am working on is stuck. Something about the design is defective. Our trials have been unsuccessful.

That happens with prototypes. That still does not explain why me. If it is ransom, my father does not have that kind of money.

No, you mistake the reason. I need flying machines for a special job.

You could have asked me to go over your plans, see what is wrong.

I don't have time to waste. From your drawings, I have built three models but can't get them to work. Captain Napoleon’s fingers pounded in frustration on his desk.

My drawings?

My men took photographs of your plans. With a magnifying glass, we studied them and duplicated your work. Everything is exactly to your drawings. The device won't stay up. Keeps crashing.

Ah, that explains it. Six months ago, you broke in, right? I reported it to the police but didn't find anything missing. If I don't help you? Albert asked.

I throw you overboard and my engineers keep working on it until the device works.

The clock moved a minute forward. In the background, small bursts of steam emitted from the room’s various devices. A muffled sound, almost like clicking came from somewhere. Albert leaned forward and gave his cup to Tattoo.

The captain stood. I have a meeting to attend. My men will escort you to your quarters. Work starts early tomorrow.

You make a lot of assumptions. I didn't say I would do this.

We'll see. Sleep on it. If not, I hope you can swim. He waved to his two men. They lifted Albert by his armpits and dragged him from the room.

This time the lift arrived on a different level. Stopping a foot too low, the men jumped out and dragged him out over its metal ledge. They laughed as Albert fought to stand and jerked him forward down the hall. Bare feet and ankles scraped along the floor. At an open doorway, he hit the floor hard as a fist shoved him in. Raucous laughter echoed as they slammed the metal door shut.

Again, in the dark with no light visible, Albert shuddered. Trapped. No brother to rescue him. He crawled across the floor, inch by inch, and searched the room. Encountering a bed fastened on the wall, he climbed on it and fell face down on a soft mattress.

Episode 4 A few answers

The next morning, he woke to a loud knock. Lights burst out from overhead fixtures and blinded him. A small horizontal panel slid down and then out flat. Clean clothes were thrust in, followed by a breakfast tray with a pot of steaming coffee.

He downed the first cup of hot liquid in three gulps and poured out more from the pot. Now able to focus, he glanced around. His new quarters were an improvement from the last, but still a prison. A sliding wall panel revealed an attached water closet. He cleaned up and tried on the clothes. They were a joke. The red striped pants sagged down to the floor, and a seaman’s shirt fell to his knees.

Even with the shirt tucked in, the sleeves flapped like wings.