Dawn of Steam: Gods of the Sun (3 page)

I seem to very much have found my blessing and curse, for I have drawn great attention from the young women of New Orleans, on news that I am a part of this company and unmarried. However, every time I explain my situation, those same women seem extremely interested in hearing all about my dear, sweet Cordelia back home. Thankfully, she is one subject of which I never tire.

January 23rd, 1816

New Orleans

29º57'N 090º04'W

My Dearest Cordelia,

You have been much on my mind of late. We have met with some early success and now find ourselves embroiled within a new conflict, though it is one in which our every instruction is to sit and wait. We have not yet been able to meet with the Colonel in charge of the forces collected near New Orleans, for he has been away at the front to the east, while his aides are occupied in holding territory to the west, which Spain has been determined to take.

I do not know how long we will be engaged with the war effort here in New Orleans. Miss Coltrane, Miss Wright, and Miss Penn seem to be especially enjoying the city: its civilization, its manners, and its markets full of English and French goods. Should your health ever permit, I should very much like to bring you here one day. While it is not England, it has its own charm and conventions, and would be the better for your presence and grace. It is certainly more comfortable and familiar than the adventures which have occupied us for some time, but also I am reminded that much more of how much I miss both you and England because of the differences.

We have certainly gained some notoriety by now, and I am sure more will come when the photographs I have sent to our employer are printed in England. While certainly not so ambitious as our original project, the pay for mapping and documenting what we have of the West, plus the fame that is likely to come with our service in this new war and the photographs may be enough to satisfy your father that I will be able to support you in the manner to which you are accustomed.

Even so, having left England with such grand designs, and having had a part in starting this renewed conflict, I believe much has been left undone. It is something I am thinking deeply upon, and over which I will likely be conflicted for some time to come. There is also some chance that it may be a moot point, for we still have a number of actions of national importance amidst our missions of exploration included in the conditions of our travel.

As much as I miss England, I also miss news from England. Perhaps as a messenger and
aide
-
de
-
camp
during the previous war, I just grew used to being closer to the officers and intelligence behind actions. Here, in an action so far away from the centers of command, I feel quite isolated. And even military concerns aside, I have none of the news of daily politics and social affairs I had grown so used to. Feeling that lack so acutely is probably the reporter in me, always interested in the newest events and happenings.

We are also in a time of great change at home, I know. The peace with France hung in a fragile balance when we left, though it seemed somewhat stronger for our actions at the
party. Likewise, even the return of Louis XVIII from exile into rulership of France following Napoleon's ascension seemed to be a difficult matter, and I am most curious to know how that is proceeding. In this, I know I am not alone, for though they are loyal citizens of the British Empire now, the people native to New Orleans remain quite attentive to matters in France. I also wonder at the possibility that this war may come to a swift end by some similar surrender on the part of the Spanish, and we simply do not know it yet. It would seem sensible on their part, but is nothing more than a guess.

Both Miss Bowe and Mr. Franzini are away on business of their own still, though they should both be reporting in soon. By then, I should hope we will have something more definite to tell them.

My love, always,

Gregory Conan Watts

From the journals of Gregory Conan Watts,

January 24th, 1816

New Orleans

29º57'N 090º04'W

Disaster has struck just as it seemed we were on the verge of learning our purpose here and what should lie ahead. We received news late last night that Col. York and his primary aides in charge of local operations had returned to the city temporarily. Messengers were sent to make sure they were aware of our presence here and that we would be hoping to speak with them. Sir James was not yet back, but these were the instructions he had left, should we receive such news. In turn, they seemed quite eager to speak with us and invited the lot of us to meet with them over breakfast.

A few further exchanges passed, and it was understood that we may not hear from Miss Bowe or Mr. Franzini until late tomorrow, though we had guessed that this news would bring Mr. Franzini back to our company quickly. Just in case, both were excused from the meeting should they not have returned in time.

That we did not see Mr. Franzini was no real surprise, though somewhat perplexing. Sir James also did not return from his evening activities, either shortly after the news came to our ship, or later in the night. Eddy had seen him not long before his own return to the ship, joining us a short time after the news came. He told us that Sir James had been speaking with his new lady friend and had promised to follow soon after. While unconcerned at first, he grew more worried as the night continued, while Miss Coltrane has been distraught and growing moreso ever since her brother did not appear an hour after Eddy returned.

A company of us returned to the bar where he had last been seen, where reports were that he left with his friend, though he looked quite out of sorts when he did so, and there was some worry he had taken ill. Eddy did not recall any sign of any illness, and the two were quite engaged in talk when he left. Sir James has always been able to hold his drink, in both my own recollection and Eddy's.

We eventually had
further account from a man who had come in about the time they were leaving, who reported that two men had been supporting a third less than a block away, and while he did not recognize any of them, the third man might have been Sir James, were he wearing a dark cloak. He had thought nothing of it at the time, save that someone had likely had too much to drink. Two women were with them as well, one of whom matched the description of Sir James's new lady friend, the other of whom I did not know at all.

He gave a brief description of the two men. One was a very large bald and mustached
man, dressed in reasonably well-tailored clothing, who had to stoop to help support his drunken companion, while the other he described as a Northerner, dressed in rougher clothing, like many of the men who have come to the city seeking to enlist with the colonial armies.              

The women were of note, for while one was the lovely young brunette Eddy knew, dressed in the wear of a well-to-do local woman, the other was described as older and severe, much as one might describe the ideal stern governess. Our source had thought perhaps in addition to the drunken friend, someone's governess may have found her young lady somewhere she oughtn't be. In between those two disparate scenes, no one seemed to have witnessed anything.

It was, at the time, thought possible that maybe something had happened to Sir James, and with his local status, his friend and whatever companions she might have summoned may have tried to help him. That we had received no news seemed to suggest something more sinister. There is a war on, and many people locally may still resent the takeover from the French and hold some misplaced loyalties that the current peace has not remedied.

We have been investigating for the evening and into the night in turns, with one of the gentlemen waiting here for word while the others continued their search. It is currently my turn, and I write as much to occupy my mind as to detail this account, for I grow more worried by the hour without word and with a meeting very soon with the Colonel. That we have lost our leader in that time cannot assure him of our competence, and, of course, there is a great deal more at stake than that.

From the journals of Gregory Conan Watts,

January 24th, 1816

New Orleans

29º57'N 090º04'W

We have met with the Colonel, and it was not at all the meeting we had expected. We had spent nearly the whole night searching for any account of Sir James or people matching the description of those he was last with. We had contacted the city authorities, who were quite cooperative but had no useful information. Despite our best efforts, we found no further trail, and neither Mr. Franzini nor Miss Bowe returned. We were still hopeful that possibly Sir James was indeed simply ill, and someone was trying to help, but that was doubtful, more an excuse to try to comfort his sister.

Long before we had any report from the town guard, men from the Colonel's staff came to collect us. We explained the situation, with regret, but our presence was still requested, with hope that perhaps the army could provide greater assistance in finding Sir James, as well as the intent for the meeting already. The presence of the soldiers among us was requested, as expected – and the ladies as well – for a formal meal with the Colonel.

I had settled my own mind that there must be at least two Colonel Yorks, for the one here had obviously not abandoned his post to chase us about the American West, and yet the other company's dirigible had been sighted by all of us. As we arrived in the dining area, I quickly learned my error. Si
tting at one end of a well-laid-out table was the man Matthew had previously pointed out to me.

I went for my gun at once, and Eddy, noting my reaction, did likewise without hesitation. Though Eddy drew first, many guns were almost immediately brandished in our direction by the Colonel's men. There were many in the room, though fewer than I would have expected wore the colors of British officers – only a few who seemed to be directly subordinate to the Colonel. Most of the rest were in the rougher garb I would associate with mercenaries. Despite being under Eddy's gun, the Colonel remained calm, insisting we surrender our weapons lest we should be shot and the women taken hostage if York suffered even the slightest injury.

We surrendered our guns, and more company joined us. This took the form of a massive bald and mustached man, along with another man with heavy scarring about his face. It was here that Col. York explained himself. There were no reinforcements coming from England. Though reports had it that Spain was, indeed, seeking allies elsewhere and may have had some designs on New Orleans – and a land route from Florida to Texas – no known attack had been forthcoming. Our own orders to organize and lead an attack were a forgery, delivered not by aides of the colonial governors and Crown representatives, but by operatives in well-stolen livery. Col. York was to take over this command from us, while he gave over direction of the dirigible to his second in command.

He did not explain the purpose behind wishing to see the attacks take place, only assuring us that England, aside from a few conspirators, was unaware of any such thing happening. He did, however, explain that the Oxfordshire woman who had been speaking with Sir James was working for him, and she had been drugging his drink for much of the evening. A drug which apparently simulated drunkenness, so she would eventually have to help him to the door, to be met by her other associates.

York told us they had been questioning Sir James regarding his battle suit. This was the reason for much of this deception: trying to get the schematics for the mechanical wonder. Though Sir James had been further drugged to try to draw the truth and plans from him, he had so far resisted all efforts. Beyond this, York's apparent primary interest was in seeing his mission finished and having me write a letter to our employer stating that we had failed to find any evidence of Dr. Bowe's route.

He also admitted to us that they had not yet taken possession of our dirigible. The Captain had not permitted them entry, despite their men in British colors, and the soldiery on guard had backed Captain Fisher. This, at least, was reassuring. Not all of the men around the city are in York's confidence, and should we escape, certainly as many would believe Eddy as would follow York.

We soon received news that Matthew Fisher-Swift had come bearing some news from one of the soldiers on guard about the place. York bade the men to bring him in and put him with the rest of us, for certainly having the Captain's ward would give him leverage enough to use against the Captain.

Though he was, indeed, let in, Matthew thankfully recognized Col. York at once. He was able to elude the men around him
, diving between one man's legs to get past them and race back out of the room. York immediately ordered pursuit.

Most of the people about kept their guns on us, while York settled back
again to continue his explanation of events. He assured us Matthew would be captured, and he had sent assassins to deal with Miss Bowe and Mr. Franzini. He would have our dirigible as soon as he had Matthew captured and would eventually achieve the two aims for which he'd been sent – satisfying his employer's bet regarding Dr. Bowe's work by putting an end to our mission, and capturing the secrets of Sir James's mechanical wonder, including the dirigible with the workshop.