Miss Alice Lovelady's First Omnibus of her Inexplicable Adventures Read online

  Miss Alice Lovelady’s

  First Omnibus

  of her

  Inexplicable Adventures

  All Story Copyrights © Sadie Swift 2016

  Cover design by Jacqueline Sweet.

  Distributed by Smashwords

  www.sadieswift.com

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your own use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  All rights reserved.

  All the characters in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Contents

  Mr Tok

  The Caspian Star

  Katherine

  Also Available

  Mr. Tok

  One

  I didn’t like the way the penguin looked at me. There seemed to be something unusual about its eyes. The strange yellow eyebrows I could cope with; its long black frock coat was something I could… try to ignore. But its eyes…

  A brass plaque to one side informed me it and its brethren were Rockhopper penguins. I had no knowledge to prove or disprove this information so assumed it was correct. A feeling of relief washed over me as it turned its gaze and rejoined it’s fellows in a strange hopping dance over the stone-coloured stage.

  “Just like real ones,” my companion, Sir Percival, said next to me, derailing my train of thought.

  “Really?” I queried, drily.

  “Certainly.”

  “They must have very good tailors to get the black jacket to fit.”

  Uncertainty tinged his voice.

  “Well… Perhaps certain liberties have been taken.”

  I reckoned the liberties he mentioned may have been taken and dumped in a river in an old sack.

  “Must be going, Miss Lovelady. No time to waste. Lots to see and do,” he added quickly, shooing me away from the collection of bespoke-tailored yellow-eyebrowed birds. They continued to dance around each other to their internal clockwork programming for the amusement of the exhibition attendees.

  Suddenly I had the strangest feeling I was being watched. Quickly I turned round. Was a penguin looking at me? Before I could be certain my line of sight was obscured by a large man in an ill-fitting suit and his female companion.

  At least Sir Percival was right about the last part – there certainly was an almost overwhelming number of things to see and an awful lot to do at Queen Victoria’s Annual Inventor’s Exhibition. He reminded me of a child unexpectedly locked in a toy store wondering what to play with first. We’d visited the penguins to begin with because I was curious and it would get the crowds of people between us and the ever-present Department liaison.

  On our meanderings we stopped and joined many others watching a demonstration of Mr Gatling’s new steam-powered firearm. The large, leather-suited elderly gentleman I took to be Mr Gatling was smiling and nodding to possibly imaginary acquaintances in the audience.

  “Ten shots per second!” Mr Gatling’s younger assistant loudly said in his white shirt and red braces.

  Our fellow watchers ‘oohed’ at that. I glanced up into Sir Percival’s face. He wasn’t overly excited. Past his large bushy white beard and moustache I saw his pale blue eyes glancing here, there, and everywhere, but certainly not at Mr Gatling’s gun. Even when the assistant picked it up and blasted several large holes in a man-shaped wooden target he nary raised a hairy eyebrow.

  The sound of gunfire was quickly crushed to nothing by the overwhelming crowd chatter, so that the only evidence a gun had been fired was the slowly rising steam and black smoke heading towards the gaslight chandeliers high above our heads.

  Something caught Sir Percival’s attention and he grabbed my elbow to better guide us through the throng. He seemed to be in a hurry so with my other hand I lifted up the skirt of my newly bought dark-blue bustled dress (which matched the frock-coat of my companion) so as not to tread on it and let him forge our path.

  A purple glow, that I had only recently become familiar with, appeared to be our destination and we soon found our way jammed by fellow attendees.

  “What do you make of it?” I asked.

  “Hopefully a new aetheric device.” His normally deep voice was hushed like he was in a place of worship. I suppose the annual inventor’s exhibition was his place of worship.

  Excitement burst in me like receiving an unexpected kiss. If an inventor was exhibiting a new aetheric device then it would most certainly be worth seeing.

  Being of smaller stature I began worming my way into any space I could find between the crowd members with the aim of getting as close as humanly possible to the demonstration. Sir Percival’s hand on my elbow was now serving to let him follow me instead of vice versa.

  One large fellow seemed to take offense at my actions but he caught sight of someone behind us and grudgingly moved away; the Department liaison could sometimes prove useful. The auburn-haired lady the fellow was with gave me a secretive, timid smile and my heart fluttered. She was gorgeous, slightly shorter than me, and wore a very expensive-looking dark red dress. There seemed to be another fellow keeping an eye on her and the man she was with. Was she someone important?

  Although Sapphic love (which in a strange way had brought me into Sir Percival’s employ) wasn’t outlawed under Queen Victoria it was always best to be circumspect. Therefore, making sure my actions were out of sight of her companions, I brushed my short dark blond hair away from my face and then gently caressed her hand with the fingers of my leather glove. ‘I know,’ I said with my eyes, wishing I could lose myself in her hazel ones. But I was only here at the express request of Sir Percival and so unable to make more of the matter, however much I most dearly wanted to. Dragging myself away I continued on towards our destination wondering who she was and hearing Sir Percival muttering apologies for my sharp elbows.

  We reached the brass chain and stanchioned edge of the slightly raised demonstration platform. Looking around I saw the wide eyes of our fellow audience lit by the coruscating purple light emanating from two large glass spheres atop fluted brass stands.

  I could see no obvious power supply for the sphere’s contents and stood on tip-toe to whisper into Sir Percival’s overly hairy ear, “What’s powering it?”

  “As yet I don’t know. Let us observe further,” he whispered back, handing me a pair of brass goggles. Safety first as he relentlessly advised me.

  I managed to put the goggles on over my short, dark blond hair without ruffling it too much – short hair was far safer in a laboratory and I still had thoughts of a certain hazel-eyed lady – and wondered why we were whispering as the almost mesmerised faces of the crowd let me think I could probably dance naked in front of them and they’d’ve been none the wiser. Even wearing the safety goggles I made sure not to look directly into the spheres for too long as I’d learnt it had a markedly deleterious effect upon mammalian eyesight.

  Movement from one side of the low stage caught my eye and a tall thin gentleman with black hair seemingly painted to his head emerged from behind a red velvet curtain. He wore an open white lab coat over a tweed suit. I wasn’t able to make out the exact colour due to our goggles and the sphere’s light. Seeing his audience’s excited faces he smiled. It wasn’t one I particularly liked as it seemed too shark-like for my ta
ste.

  I felt and heard a silent ‘harumph!’ from Sir Percival beside me. “I should have known it was Peter Frost,” his voice dropped into disappointment at the man’s name. “Well, best see if the bounder has a smidgen of useful information,” he added with a disappointed sigh.

  Mr Frost’s eyes swept over the audience and his smile seemed to falter slightly at seeing a be-goggled Sir Percival and myself watching him. Regaining his composure he walked forwards to stand between the two spheres. They were roughly two feet in diameter and the height of his shoulders.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for your esteemed interest in my work.”

  At this the ladies tittered and preened themselves for being so clever by merely standing in front of him, while the men puffed their chests out at each other. I nearly threw up.

  “You see before you the very pinnacle of modern-day aetheric invention.”

  He let the excited ‘ooh’s’ and ‘aah’s’ die down before continuing. I was now on the verge of relieving Mr Gatling of his new gun and doing serious damage with it.

  His voice changed down in tone. “As many of you know aetheric energy will soon overtake steam as the world’s major power source as it is in plentiful supply. The only problem being drawing it into this world and harnessing its unique qualities.”

  He moved closer to the attentive crowd, possibly the more gullible ones, and continued, “In front of you I demonstrate the harnessing of this energy source. Each of these spheres is using enough aetheric energy to power several hundred homes!”

  The awed gasps almost sucked him into the audience. One lady almost swooned but I managed to viciously poke her in the whalebone corset before she could keel over.

  “I shall now demonstrate the patent pending principles of my unique invention.”

  At long last he seemed to be getting to the nitty gritty. I felt Sir Percival’s body stiffen as he made ready to memorise everything Peter would say.

  Peter opened his mouth but then stopped as if struck dumb. This wasn’t a symptom of aetheric poisoning I was aware of and turned to ask Sir Percival’s thoughts on the matter when a Rockhopper penguin’s head flew down and smashed one of the glass spheres in front of us resulting in a tremendous purple explosion.

  Then the screams began.

  Two

  Loud eruptions came from behind, echoing around the building like thunder, and the frightened crowd forced us towards the demonstration and the raging purple aetheric fire. Luckily the second sphere was still intact.

  “Put it out, Peter!” yelled Sir Percival trying to make himself heard over the screams and explosions.

  Peter had been thrown to the ground by the force of the sphere’s explosion and was wiping his face as if stunned.

  “Bu– Bu–” he gabbled.

  “Idiot,” sir Percival said under his breath and quickly climbed over the brass chain lifting me over afterwards. I was too startled to voice my thoughts of such man-handling, especially as I also caught sight of another severed Rockhopper penguin head shattering one of the gaslight chandeliers high above us. Hot, sharp glass rained down on the chaotic crowd eliciting yet more screams. I hoped Hazel-eyes was safe.

  While Sir Percival dragged me over to deal with the purple fire I saw the bald bulky-bodied Department liaison quickly heading our way pushing people out of his path. He was certainly single-minded about his job. Luckily I was with probably the only person in the whole place who knew what to do. Unfortunately that also meant I was closer to an aetheric fire than I really wanted.

  “What’s the power source!” Sir Percival yelled at Peter.

  “W–?” he looked confusedly up at Sir Percival.

  “This is for your own good, Peter.”

  “W–?” he tried to say again.

  Sir Percival’s hand flashed out and slapped Peter’s cheek so hard his head jerked to the left.

  “Now, where’s the power source?”

  Perhaps not wanting a repeat of such uncouth behaviour Peter’s right hand pointed towards the curtain he’d appeared from earlier.

  Leaving Peter on the ground Sir Percival tugged me after him and headed to the curtain. Behind us the Department liaison had climbed over the brass chain and was skirting round the purple fire in our direction.

  The curtains reduced the chaotic screaming and noise so I could make out Sir Percival’s quick muttering to himself. One of the things I’d found I was good at was understanding what he wanted, sometimes before he even knew it himself. So it was that while he examined a veritable birds-nest of brass pipes and levers and pulleys I rooted through an obsessively neat toolbox.

  “Sir Percival! We leave now!”

  The Department liaison had caught up with us.

  Sir Percival stood up straight and glared at him through his goggles.

  “You understand the danger. If I don’t do something the whole building, possibly this area of London, will be a crater.”

  I could have done without this information.

  “Then I need to get you out now.”

  “Miss Lovelady, see to him,” he said, turning back to the power source.

  I do wish he didn’t do this to me. The Department liaison and I exchanged looks. I smiled and shrugged apologetically at his broad stoic face.

  The noise from the exhibition suddenly dropped to nearly nothing. We shared a puzzled look and he joined me in carefully peered round the curtain.

  It looked like the majority of the crowd had managed to escape, which was lucky because in the distance a strange white mist seemed to crawl over the exhibition floor. The people that breathed it fell insensible to the ground. I didn’t see any move again. Injured attendees tried to crawl away from the mist calling for aid. Small fires were threatening to increase into major ones if left unchecked. But that wasn’t what held my attention.

  Chills ran up and down my spine as out of the mist I saw the group of Rockhopper penguins living up to their name by hopping over the still and occasionally moving bodies in our direction. Their eyes shone purple, and they had some sort of death-breath as the same strange white mist escaped from their orange beaks. I felt this wasn’t their normal method of catching food, although it was very effective as whoever breathed it ceased moving. Quickly I looked around the auditorium floor trying to remember the dress Hazel-eyes wore but couldn’t make her out. I could only hope that she’d escaped.

  Slowly walking behind the murderous penguins was a strange jerky figure. Even though I could guess he wore some sort of breathing apparatus his own bodyshape and mannerisms reminded me uncomfortably of gothic nightmare visions. He was covered head to toe in some shiny black material, two black canisters on his back had tubes leading to a black facemask. His left arm and leg seemed to be badly hinged and he would shuffle and then jerk his body forwards onto his left foot.

  Still dazed Peter watched the strange apparition and his poison-breathing penguins move towards him, the purple fire and sphere providing an otherworldly feel to the scene.

  The Department liaison and I again looked at each other and then at Sir Percival.

  With fear making my voice nearly fail me I managed to whisper, “Have you solved it yet?”

  “Monkey wrench,” Sir Percival tersely responded.

  I hastened to the toolbox and retrieved the requested tool. After handing it to him I asked the Department liaison, “Do you have a gun?”

  Silently he nodded.

  “Would it be too much to ask you to use it?”

  He reached into his tweed jacket and brought out a small handgun. Carefully I peered round the curtain. The purple-eyed penguins had stopped their movement with some standing on the floor, others on top of motionless bodies. The black-covered person approached Peter as he lay on the ground next to his aetheric devices.

  “Toby? I– I thought you were dead?” he said to the advancing apparition.

  Meeting the brass chain the figure moved his left hand forwards so the chain was between his fingers and, li
ke they were scissors, he snipped it in half. The sound of metal hitting the floor was strangely loud in the almost silent auditorium.

  “Toby is dead, Peter,” the figure said in a harsh rasping voice. “I managed to survive, dragging my ruined body from out of the pit you created to kill me. Using my knowledge of clockwork devices and the aether I rebuilt myself, making it better, stronger. I am no longer Toby,” the figure seemed to spit his name out. “But Tok, a higher evolved human. A self-evolved human.”

  Oh dear. Oh dear, dear, dear. It sounded like he was well on the path to insanity, caused by safety not being first during aetheric experiments.

  “What? What do you mean?” Peter said.

  I could hear the fright in his voice and, turning to the Department liaison, hissed, “Shoot him.”

  Just as he pointed his small gun at the black figure, the purple aetheric fire disappeared.

  “Yes!” Sir Percival said loudly behind us, completely oblivious to the danger past the curtain.

  “No!” cried Tok at the loss of the aether.

  Then both Peter and Tok looked in our direction spying myself and the liaison. Tok raised his left hand and pointed his fingers as if aiming a gun. I didn’t like the look of it.

  Small bursts of compressed gas fired from his fingertips and little tracers of purple headed towards us. I dove into the Department liaison to get him out of the way – Tok hadn’t seen Sir Percival and didn’t know he was there – and we tumbled to the ground. I felt a sting in my arm and saw the blue dress material had been sliced open. Red blood began to seep out and then quickly turned a nasty shade of purple. A chill went through me as I knew aetheric poison was now invading my body.

  The Department liaison scrambled to his feet and grabbed Sir Percival’s arm. He started to drag him further into the darkness to find a way out while leaving me lying on the ground. But Sir Percival noticed me.