Authors: Alex P. Berg
From my vantage point on the hill, I could easily see the stage in its entirety. On the left-hand side, a massive metal contraption consisting of an elevated box, a thick-walled steel cylinder, and a flywheel at least ten feet in diameter dominated the space. A crankshaft that by itself probably weighed twice as much as I did connected the box and cylinder combo to the giant wheel. Smoke, or perhaps steam, seeped through a valve that fed up through the top of the apparatus, and grimy workmen lounged by the side of it near a cart piled high with coal.
Sitting across from the contraption on the right-hand side of the stage was another instrument of similar size. A thick, black covering draped over the top of it, hiding its mysteries from view of the public. A trio of burly, mustachioed gentlemen that looked as if they might be brothers surrounded the hidden machine, arms crossed, their eyes trained on the crowd.
Milling behind the two pieces of equipment onstage, I noticed a few familiar faces. One was that of Perspicacious Blaze, a fire mage and owner of a number of foundries who I’d wrongly accused of murder in me and Shay’s first case together. If anything, his granite-like visage had only hardened since I’d last seen him, and based on the scowl he wore alongside his vest and slacks, he wasn’t particularly happy about his attendance at the event.
Behind Blaze I spotted Torg the Defiler, a goblin who, despite his name, had long since traded in his defiling business for a much more profitable one—coal production. The coal baron was one of the wealthiest humanoids in the city, as his enterprises had displaced nearly all the charcoal industries that had preceded him. A lush, ermine coat hung from his shoulders, its hem hovering an inch above the stage, and enough gold dangled from his neck to fund the operating costs of a mid-sized orphanage for a decade.
Off to the right of the stage, I noticed another wealthy business magnate by the name of Linwood Bock. Bock owned the aptly named Bock Industries, a conglomerate that dipped its fingers in everything from transport to manufacturing, including, I could only assume, the manufacture of whatever iron-clad behemoth had drawn my gaze on the stage. The man wore a tailored pinstripe suit and clutched a gleaming black cane in his right hand, which, based on the way he moved, he used more for assistance than as a full-blown crutch. A stovepipe hat sat atop his head, and a white doorknocker beard covered his upper lip and chin.
I turned my attention from the ostentatious businessmen to Shay. “So what exactly do you know about this exhibit?”
“Not much,” she said. “Only that my dad insisted I attend. He says the demonstration is going to be spectacular.”
Shay’s father was a chemist, a point that came up in conversation more often than it should. Her upbringing had made her more adept at unraveling the mysteries of science than I’d ever be.
I opened my mouth to ask Steele when the party would start, but before I could push the words out, a hush fell over the crowd. A tall, barrel-chested announcer clad in nothing less than a tailed tuxedo, top hat, and spats walked to the front of the stage. A baton spun in his hand effortlessly, and when he spoke, his voice boomed in a large bass that put the graybearded locksmith to shame.
“Ladies and gentlemen, humans, elves, dwarves, goblins, gnomes, ogres, trolls, and faeries, citizens of New Welwic and travelers from across the vast expanse of the lands and seas, welcome to the opening day of the biennial World’s Wonders Fair, the largest, most comprehensive, most stupendous spectacular featuring the greatest feats of science, technology, and engineering derived from the minds of the world’s leaders in business and industry.”
As well as quackery and hogwash from scam artists,
I thought.
“Today we gather here to learn, to think, and to be inspired, to open our minds to not merely the probable but the
possible
, to share in a mutual sense of wonder, and to catch a glimpse into the future, made possible through innovations that’ll shape and mold our future in ways that until recently were mere fantasy. Undoubtedly you’ve already widened your eyes in wonder at many of the innovations throughout the fair, but it is not until now, until this very moment, that you glimpse the true future of technology and industry.”
The announcer spun and pointed with his baton to the gargantuan metal contraption at his right. “Surely by now you must wonder…what is this machine that graces our fair stage? What purpose does it serve? What future does it hold in its gleaming, metal embrace? Perhaps some of you already know, but the vast majority of you undoubtedly do not. Behind me is the newly fabricated, newly redesigned, and newly christened Bock Industries crank-and-piston churned, single-cylinder, double action, high pressure, coal-fed reciprocating steam engine. And what does such a machine do, you ask? Gentlemen, stoke the fires!”
At the announcer’s command, the workmen at the side of the machine jumped into action, two opening a hatch in the apparatus’s side and shoveling coal in through the gap, a third working a set of bellows, and a fourth manning a set of levers poking from the top of the ensemble. The valve at the top of the machine whistled as the fourth man yanked on a chain. The crank shaft that connected the massive flywheel to the steel cylinder pushed forth, slowly at first, then back, then faster, forcing the mighty flywheel into motion.
As the machine roared to life, the announcer continued to speak, becoming more animated the faster the flywheel spun. “Ladies and gentlemen, it’s not mere hyperbole for me to state that this machine will transform the world around us in ways we cannot yet fathom. The Bock Industries reciprocating steam engine harnesses the power of the earth and transforms it into real, usable work. This spinning wheel represents far more than a mere technological proof of concept. It represents the milling of grain, the pumping of water, the turning of presses. No more will mankind be subjected to the vagaries of wind and water for his needs. No more will—”
As the baton-wielding announcer droned on about the implications of the machine, I found my eyes drifting to Perspicacious Blaze, the fire mage, standing in the back. He stared at the proceedings, unblinking, and I recalled a thought I’d had during our case with him: a passing bit of mirth in which I’d pictured Blaze and other similar working mages put out of work by technological advances, forced out onto the street, angry and with grudges against society. The vision was coming to pass—except for the fact that Perspicacious Blaze owned two-thirds of the foundries in the city. I doubted he’d lack for funds anytime soon.
“This is amazing,” I said to Steele. “I hate to agree with Baton McTwirlsalot, but this could impact a lot of businesses.”
“Well, it
is
amazing,” said Shay, her eyes on the stage, “but it’s not really the draw of the presentation.”
I scrunched my brow. “Huh?”
“This technology’s been around for a while,” she said. “Don’t get me wrong, the improvements made to the reciprocating steam engine by Bock Industries are impressive. That thing’s purring like a kitten. But the scientific basis for steam power isn’t new. People have been working in earnest on it ever since Torg the Defiler established his coal empire.”
“You’re kidding,” I said. “How come I’d never heard about this?”
Shay looked at me, tilting her head and giving me a smirk. “I thought we already established you’re not particularly well-versed
or
interested in science. Your words, not mine.”
I frowned, unconvinced.
Shay decoded my expression. “If I’m wrong, then why was the engine uncovered? Whatever’s beneath that black shroud is the real draw here.”
As if on cue, the announcer flicked his baton at the workmen. As they closed the coal hatch and played with the levers, the flywheel began to slow, and the announcer switched his attention to the other side of the stage.
“But, ladies and gentlemen, as magnificent, as astonishing, as portentous, and as awe-inspiring as the manufacture and functions of the Bock Industries reciprocating steam engine are, the implications of this next feat of science and engineering are even larger, even greater, and even
more
momentous.
“Picture for a moment, as I stand here in front of this thick span of canvas, the state of the world in which we all live and work. Long has mankind achieved mastery of three of the four elements: fire, which we use to heat our homes and light our dark streets, water which we use to power our mills and churn our grindstones, and wind, which we use to fill the sails of our vessels. Earth we’ve used to grow our crops and build our homes, but with the advent of the Bock Industries reciprocating steam engine, synergy—” The announcer intertwined his fingers. “—has been achieved between the elements. Earth and fire combined to produce the energy previously harnessed from water and wind. But is there more? Are there other secrets, other natural phenomena, other elements which we’ve yet to harness? Well, friends…yes. There are. Lads, harness the machine!”
Shay groaned as the mustachioed brothers removed the black canvas. “I’m glad my dad’s not here. He’d probably have a heart-attack hearing this guy talk about ‘fire’ and ‘water’ as elements.”
Even I knew better than that. I shrugged. “He’s feigning ignorance to pander to the crowd. I hope…”
The black covering fell under the combined pull of the burly-armed trio, revealing another curious contraption. This one also featured a large flywheel, but instead of steel it appeared to be made of copper, and it sat between arms wrapped with thick coils of wire. In front of the machine, up out of arm’s reach, were two broad metal plates that faced each other about an arm’s length apart.
As the flywheel from the engine finally slowed to a stop, the workmen brought out long, heavy belts which they used to connect the two machines. A young man with medium-length brown hair and a thin mustache, dressed in a white overcoat, separated himself from the crowd onstage and stood next to the newly revealed machine. Once done with the belts, the workmen ran back to the Bock Industries engine and stoked the fires with more coal. The flywheel began to turn again, spinning the copper wheel along with it.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” said the announcer, “although it goes against my nature, I’ll try to be brief. As this Bock Industries reciprocating engine spins—need I remind you, fueled by the power of the earth underneath our feet—it brings to life a new Bock Industries creation, one that’ll let civilization harness a power heretofore only dreamed of, the power of nature, the power of the heavens, the power of the gods above.”
The announcer cast a glance at the young man with the lab coat. With both flywheels spinning rapidly, the young man placed a hand on a lever at the side of the newly revealed instrument and gave the announcer a nod.
“Ladies and gentlemen…may I present the Bock Industries Gen-er-ator!”
The young man flipped the lever. The air before us crackled, sparkled, and hissed, and with a resounding pop, a bolt of lightning materialized out of thin air, convulsing and pulsating but contained between the two metal plates in the air. A gasp erupted from the crowd, interspersed with countless ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ and followed by a thunderous crash of applause.
For once, Shay looked as slack-jawed as everyone else in attendance.
I, however, had maintained full control over my facial muscles. “Well, it’s cool, I’ll give them that. But unlike the engine, I’m not sure what use it’ll be to anyone—unless someone plans on starting a tree-splitting service using it.”
Steele picked her jaw up off the ground before answering. “Your problem is that you don’t have any vision. And before you crack any jokes about my psychic ability, yes, I can envision numerous applications for such a device.”
“Such as?”
“Well, for starters—” My partner raised a finger, but before she could respond, the crowd parted behind us, spitting out a familiar blond-haired, blue-eyed, smooth-cheeked face. For once, it didn’t carry with it a perfect, white-toothed smile.
“Rodgers,” I said. “What are you doing here?”
Gordon Rodgers adjusted his coat and snorted. “Taking in the sights, what do you think, Daggers? I’ve been searching for the two of you for the past hour. If you weren’t up on this hill, I’d never have found you.”
Rodgers wasn’t as ardently opposed to aerobic exercise as I was, but I couldn’t imagine he’d tramped all over the fairgrounds for his health. I deduced the obvious. “There’s been a murder?”
“Your deductive abilities are unparalleled, old chum,” he said. “Come on. Quinto’s already on the scene.”
3
Rodgers led us to an apartment building on Height Street—a fairly new, tan brick structure in a city where ‘fairly new’ generally meant anything octogenarians couldn’t remember existing in their spoon-fed years. Based on the first floor windows and the richly furnished lobby, I guessed the dead person’s abode would be on the nicer side of the housing spectrum, and as I slid past a bluecoat standing guard at the door of the second-story apartment, I found I wasn’t mistaken.
A pair of matching beige upholstered sofas shared the middle of a living room with a wide, rectangular ottoman while a mahogany coffee table sat over to the side, lonely and forgotten. The room’s shutters had been thrown open, allowing light to flood into the room and glide over a broad writing desk, a round eat-in table, and a quartet of chairs. A couple of technicians from the precinct hovered over the desk and table, dusting the hard surfaces for prints.
“Seems pretty idyllic.” I walked in and ran my hand across the top of the padded couch. “You sure this is the right place?”
“The body’s in the bedroom,” said Rodgers. “It’s not quite as
idyllic
in there.”
A shadow filled a portion of my vision, and I heard a familiar rumbling, gravely voice. “Not so much. Although it is more colorful. You know, because of the blood.”
Detective Quinto, Rodgers’ partner, filled a doorframe at my right. At six foot three and over two century-notes, not many people dwarfed me, but Quinto did by a good four inches and at least a hundred pounds. As if his size wasn’t distinctive enough, his mismatched buckteeth, buzz cut, and grayish skin—a byproduct of his alleged half-troll heritage—really rounded out the package. Despite his intimidating appearance, the guy had a good head on his shoulders, and he was a bit of a teddy bear at heart—unless you insulted his mother.