Chapter 1: City of Steam

Dr. Holmes awakes the next morning tired and sore. Very sore. It takes him a full minute to stand up straight. And his hands! He has no fewer than three blisters. This is ridiculous! I'm a doctor! Not some sweaty railman!
On his way to the factory he rehearses what he'll say to Mr. Wuyuan to get him out of work today. When he arrives he takes a look around. Seeing the boiler tarpped does not surprise him all that much. Seeing Wilhundt at the controls of the ram he feels a twinge of jealousy. It seems Wilhundt found respite from manual labor today. Seeing Mr. Wuyuan, Dr. Holmes heads over for a chat. "Excuse me Mr. Wuyuan were we not meant to move the new boiler into place today? Why is it all tarpped up? I couldn't help notice it's odd shape yesterday. Is it a new design? And if perhaps you need someone with steady hands to do any delicate work today perhaps I would be better suited to help out there?"

TommyRage wrote:

"Excuse me Mr. Wuyuan were we not meant to move the new boiler into place today? Why is it all tarpped up? I couldn't help notice it's odd shape yesterday. Is it a new design? And if perhaps you need someone with steady hands to do any delicate work today perhaps I would be better suited to help out there?"

"Holmes, good morning!" Mr. Wuyuan smiles affably and steps forward to meet you. "Oh yes, you'll be moving the new boiler today, just the big one. The other one is just one of Mr. Milford's projects. I'm not sure he has any plans for it, or if it's just one of the curiosities he likes so much. Anyway, it stays right where it is." He gives a slight shrug.

"Sorry, chap, it's rails for you again today. Should be the last day, though."

Mr. Wuyuan turns back toward The Ram, waving to Arvin and the other talkative fellow. They clamber off the behemoth, lean their shovels against one of the wheels, and meet with Wuyuan for a few moments before leaving the building.

The rail crews begin to assemble, and the work starts in earnest.

Wilhundt, watching the gauges sees the rise of the main boiler pressure begin to flatten out around 200psi.  He hops down, grabs both shovels and climbs back onto the ram, stowing one shovel in it's holder where it belongs.  With the other, he shovels a bit more coal into the fire box before stowing it as well.  Judging the progress of the rail teams, he expects he has another full hour at least before he is needed to load the sled so he hops down and walks past the covered boiler to the sled.  a quick examination assures him that the sled is indeed up to the task of ferrying the weight of the boiler into the main factory building. He inspects the wheel chocks as well, wouldn't look good if instead of moving the boiler onto it, he just pushes the sled away.  Walking back to the ram, he pauses in thought, and then inspects the large boiler. First and foremost, inspecting the areas that will be in contact with the ram as he maneuvers the boiler onto the sled. As he does this he half hopes to discover that this is also something else disguised, but he holds little hope of that. Though massive, it appears much like every other boiler design that Wilhundt has seen.

Mrs. Wynne finished her shift at work, per usual, cleaning the tavern for use the next day. Before taking her customary snooze, she investigated the boiler at the inn - but it was just a boiler.

So Mrs. Wynne snoozed until the morning cook arrived and chopped chopped chopped with her knife until breakfast was ready for the guests, and for her to take some home.

Mrs. Wynne did not go straight home, however, though the breakfast was getting cold. Instead she went to Bluffin's.

Nobody knew what Bluffin's name really was because Bluffin did not speak, and Bluffin did not get along all too well with anyone. Mrs. Wynne had taught Bluffin some sign language, but only enough so that Bluffin could get by on the one thing that he/she/they did well - and that was bake and sell Dorset's best blueberry muffins.

Again, nobody liked Bluffin. And Bluffin did not like anybody. But the blueberry muffins were that-very-much-so good. And Mrs. Wynne had had quite the kind of day the day before. She just wanted the best food in town, and that was Bluffin's blueberry muffins.

Mrs. Wynne purchased a blueberry muffin each for her and Miss Leicester. Her conversation with Bluffin was brief and full of signed expletives, but it did not get under either her or Bluffin's skin. There was a comfort in Bluffin meeting her expectation of being a jerk, when so many things lately seemed contrary to her expectation.

Then Mrs. Wynne went home and shared breakfast with Miss Leicester.

There is a communal joy in sharing a delicious meal. Mrs. Wynne felt sisterly love for Miss Leicester in that moment, sharing the blueberry muffins.

And then, when the muffins were finished.... Mrs. Wynne knew it was pointless to ask, but she wanted to save her friend if she could. Save her from what? Mrs. Wynne did not know. Miss Leicester had supplied fresh-squeezed orange juice - and anyone that squeezes you fresh orange juice is worth saving.

"Tamarind...," Mrs. Wynne began, using Miss Leicester's first name. "Tamarind, do you have any family...any family anywhere?"

Work continues apace at the factory, and before long, the track-building crew has fully extended the track from the new building into the factory building, running to an iron mounting. With Milford's Ram doing the pushing, it should be easy work getting the huge boiler from one building to the next. Easy barring accidents, that is...
_________________________________

Bluffin's shop was down one of the few side streets off of Main St., across the way from Jacobson's General, a store of some repute in Dorset. Lawrence and Mildred Jacobson ran the place, and always seemed to have a good supply of staples delivered via the Exeter Planetary Express -- and impressive name for a rinky-dink steam train running between small towns.

Of course, Samar's trip to acquire muffins took her right past the Museum of Oddities. There's always a steam-powered animated sculpture of some sort out front. Last month's sculpture, a brass steamship moved between sheets of brass, cut to look like waves moving to and fro. Occasionally, a sea monster arose from the waves to menace the ship. Every 5 or 6 appearances by the monster, the monster dragged the ship below the waves before the whole sequence would begin again. Samar felt a twinge of disappointment as she realized that the sculpture has changed, but didn't stop to see the new one. The call of fresh muffins from Bluffin's was strong.

Fritz, behind a locked door in an office he's not supposed to set foot in. He opens desk drawers, rooting through papers and knick knacks. He moved to shelving, removing books and flipping through their pges, before putting them precisely back where they were. He did this in every corner without a sound outside, other than physical labor in the warehouse where the thing was. Something Somewhere in this office a clue to it, is there. "Boiler>"

Fritz opened a wardrobe, with coats and other items. Footsteps clack in the hall. Fritz stops and stands silently behind the wardrobe door. The shoes continue to clack down the hall. Fritz takes a breath. Relief fills his blood stream, until the shoes stop, down the hall. The unbearable silence. A bead of sweat rolls down his temple and cheek. Fritz waits. The shoes clack back towards his office, not his office the one he robbed. Yes, he has more than enough to pay Wilhundt back and perhaps buy a few tintures from the doc.

Fritz steps into the wardrobe, behing the cloaks and coats and working jackets. He breathes the shallowest of breaths.

The shoes jingle keys and thrusts one into the lock. Fritz closes his eyes, and thinks If I can't see them they can't see me.

Fritz breathes shallower, reigning in the anxiety and desire to burst out of wardrobe, kick the official in the butt and run, before they can stand. The official looks under desks. Fritz holds fast, with shallowing breathing, focusing, and listening.

Hey, let's go. says another officiate through the office door.

The one in the center of the room nods and leaves, locking the door. Fritz waits in the wardrobe, until the shoes fade away. Fritz continues to pick pockets in the wardrobe. Fritz knows there's something in this office He will find something. He can't find it.

From what Fritz has seen and from his time at the factory, he surmises that this is Mr. Wuyuan's office. As this thought crosses his mind, he feels a folded piece of paper in one of the pockets. When the footstep fade down the hall, he gets a chance to unfold the paper. It reads:

"When I came in this morning, I found that somebody had been tampering with Whitey. Some of the paste had been removed and the handle exposed. Tell Arvin and Meese to get some canvas on that, totally cover it, with a couple chains and padlocks underneath. Should be good enough until the boiler is on the factory floor, then we can get the night crew to push Whitey onto the stand. Should be back to normal in a day or two, then we can see how this big girl does the job on the factory floor.
-- Milford
P.S. Oh, yes. Be sure to leave the warehouse rails in place, right up to the door. It may be a while, but we're going to need them, I think. The rest of the rails can go back to the depot.
P.S.S. Did Ms. Wickham ever get back to us about the offer?"

Dr. Holmes wearily goes about his day. Every muscle sore. Every blister now has it's own blister. He doesn't speak much to those around him. Silently seething inside with frustration at the work he is forced to perform. Wracking his brain to try to remember where he saw that other similar boiler but thoughts of the woman in the blue dress keep interrupting his attempts at the memory. perhaps tonight I need to take a page from Fritz's play book and get drunk tonight. This is not supposed to be my life

Haku=Kohaku wrote:

"Tamarind...," Mrs. Wynne began, using Miss Leicester's first name. "Tamarind, do you have any family...any family anywhere?"

Miss Leicester considers the question, chewing on the tasty blueberry muffin thoughtfully. "Yes, yes I do. You're my family" she says with a smile and a bright laugh. "You know", she starts before Ms. Wynne's mouth stops in mid-chew, the blueberry muffin temporarily forgotten. A memory hits her, a moment from earlier. She'd glanced at the kinetic display outside the Museum of Oddities on her way past after picking up the muffins, but it hadn't registered until now that of all the objects depicted in motion -- the hot air balloon, the birds, the 'ornithopter' wildly flapping its wings -- there was one object that had escaped her attention at the moment. Of all the flying things, one of those objects didn't appear to be a flyer of any type: a smallish, somewhat flattened cylinder.

Miss Leicester continued, but whatever she'd said went right past Ms. Wynne as her mind raced.

With the rails nearing completion Wilhundt stokes the firebox bringing the pressure in the boiler to 250psi just as word comes that it's time to move the large boiler onto the tracks. He skillfully works the levers and on the valves and controls. Mr. Wuyuan expected the worst when the usual ram operator did not show for work this morning. He is therefore pleasantly surprised by the efficiency that Wilhundt displays while operating the ram. In short order the boiler is on it's sled and and then smoothly moved and secured onto the platform that had been prepared for it in the factory.

The operation of the giant steam engine indoors proves to be loud and sooty work, hot vapors and coal ash blasting about as Wilhundt masterfully manages the unwieldy Milford's Ram as if born to it. As he concentrates on the controls, he can feel the eyes on him, all workers stopped and watching in admiration -- both in appreciation of their own handiwork on the rails, and appreciation that their work wasn't wasted by clumsy operation of the Ram by its driver. As the large boiler settles into its new position on the factory floor, a cheer erupts from the happy and satisfied workers.

Mr. Wuyuan smiles happily when the boiler *chunks* into place and claps his hands twice, clearly pleased with the effort. He uses his hands to form a megaphone, and yells to Wilhundt, "Perfect! Now back her into the warehouse, and shut her down!"

The remainder of the day is spent tearing down the rails in the factory, and stacking them towards the back of the warehouse. Mr. Wuyuan has several positioned in such a way that it's clear to any onlookers that the odd boiler will soon be moved onto the rails. Tomorrow's work? Perhaps.

Out back behind the factory, work is completed on the sluices used to move water. A strategically placed hole in the back wall of the factory gives the sluice a place to rest, and the sluice rests on a wooden framework leading to a position just a few feet above the new boiler. As the rails are torn down in the factory, the water begins to flow. One worker with a large metal funnel sits astride the boiler, and the boiler begins to fill.

As the day comes to a close, much of the weariness seems to be gone from the workers. They seem rejuvenated at the successful conclusion of this arduous task. Mr. Wuyuan steps to the middle of the factory floor to face the workers, and holds a hand high above his head, a thumb and two fingers outstretched.

"Three!", he yells, smiling broadly. "Three days off, please enjoy them!" Cheers from the crowd of workers, and before the sound fully dies down he adds, "and be sure to ask your favorite drinking and eating establishments for Milford discounts!" The cheers rise again. It's clear that sometimes the work is hard, but the workers appreciate their employers, and vise versa.

Captain_Hoyt wrote:

Miss Leicester continued, but whatever she'd said went right past Mrs. Wynne as her mind raced.

Just as a dolphin leaps from the water and seems to pause in midair above the waves, so Mrs. Wynne - with her mind racing and all the commotion of the last couple days - felt a moment of stillness.

But only a moment - because then exhaustion hit Mrs. Wynne like a belly flop. Miss Leicester noticed how an empty, ugly expression took shape on Mrs. Wynne's face, and she helped Mrs. Wynne to bed, tucking her in. Mrs. Wynne asked Miss Leicester to bring her the journal, to write down any dreams she might have.

Mrs. Wynne did not dream - or did not remember dreaming. She slept a mindless, albeit sonorous, sleep - all through the morning and into the afternoon.

Mrs. Wynne woke around 12:30pm. While the blueberry muffin was delicious, it was not particularly filling. She made herself lunch, tidied around the place, washed up herself, and went back to settle in for another sleep cycle. . .

. . .When she saw her journal there on the bed. Mrs. Wynne's clarity returned. She sat on the edge of the bed and wrote in her journal: Went to museum to investigate origin of flying apparatus.

Mrs. Wynne arrived at the Museum of Oddities at 2:13pm, dressed in a thrilling frilled dress of clear sky blue. She took in the new kinetic display out front, and then she proceeded into the museum, full of enthusiasm, to satisfy her effervescent curiosity.

"Pardon me. You must tell me who designs those kinetic displays out front. I brought my notebook and I want to write an article for the newspaper - if they will allow it - about the imaginative marvels which entice us in off the street. It is almost as if the best exhibit is the one on rotation out front! My name is Samar, if I may be so bold, and you must introduce me to the genius behind those exquisite kinetic sculptures!"

Three days off. Must be a sign. Perhaps getting drunk tonight isn't such a bad idea after all. Now where did those other two get off to.
As the cheers die down Dr. Holmes walks over towards Wilhundt all the while looking around to see if he can spy Fritz lurking in the back of the crowd.

Before entering, Samar looks over the kinetic sculpture again. The craftsmanship strikes her as top-notch, mostly in brass, with painted details that make it come alive. Each of the objects -- the balloon, the birds, the ornithopters -- all move in wide, horizontal arcs. One object moves different, rising from the floor, moving nearly straight up before arcing over the top of the machine, and heading straight back down before repeating its motion. From the back end of this piece, a jagged brass piece painted reds and oranges, moves in and out of the brass cylinder as it moves. To the untrained eye, it might look like flames.
-------------------------------------------------------

Ms. Clara Wickham, a rather plain-looking woman in her mid-thirties, who makes up for her plainness with jaunty dress -- a white bowler hat with an iron band, with a bright red feather; a puffy white pirate shirt; tight leather pants, and black leather boots with springs set in the heels. To say she moved with a spring in her step would be redundant, of course, but she's certainly enthusiastic as she greets Samar.

"Oh, you like the display? I'm so glad, it's one of my favorites. This one was built by one of the smiths, Mr. Davies. He doesn't do much paid work any more, but he'd be thrilled to hear that people are still appreciating his work." She carries on for a bit, walking as she talks, asking Samar to please look around, to feel free to ask questions, there's so much to see, blah, blah, blah. Samar finds it difficult to concentrate on what she's saying, as the dizzying array of oddities captures her attention. Kaleidoscopes, stilts, a small collection of false teeth, some misbegotten attempts at powered and unpowered flight, and a number of kinetic displays powered by steam pressure. From one central boiler, a series of tubes lead to 4 brass kinetic displays: one has animals, one has a couple of primitive locomotives on tracks, one has stickmen riding bicycles. One shelf has some bits and bobs, their purpose being somewhat obscure. One of these items catches Samar's attention, a red disc several inches across attached to a bracket, with multi-colored wires protruding from a square, greenish plate.

"I have to admit I am taken aback and intrigued by everything about this museum. Perhaps I am somewhat of an oddity myself - but how about you? Are these oddities to you, or curiosities? Or curi-oddities?" Mrs. Wynne giggles.

"But also, when you say Mr. Davies built the display outside - I am impressed as much by the mechanism as the design and the entire idea behind it. Did it all come from Mr. Davies' imagination, or is it you who are struck by inspiration and commission Mr. Davies and others to manifest or substantiate your plans? I can tell by your impressive fashion taste - this catching ensemble - that you are a woman with an inventive mind. What titillates your veritable enthusiasm, forgive me, Ms. - I do not know that I caught your name...?"

(Conspiratorially:) "Well, you see, Clara - I work at the Hangry Haven, and at my recommendation, we have established an Inventor's Night every week. If you have not attended, you may very well enjoy it - There are quite the number of oddities showcased, and every week, to be sure. Though not quite to the standard you have collected at this museum -

"And I would like to see that change! I noticed that red disc and bracket on the shelf, and I think with that, I could create something truly worthy of this museum. How much, for a fellow enthusiast such as myself?"

Haku=Kohaku wrote:

"And I would like to see that change! I noticed that red disc and bracket on the shelf, and I think with that, I could create something truly worthy of this museum. How much, for a fellow enthusiast such as myself?"

"Oh, that piece? To be honest, most people just look at it and move on. It's not one of more popular exhibits. Fifty silvers would clear some shelf space. I'd be happy to get rid of the thing, whatever it is. One of the old farmers brought it in years ago, and didn't know what to do with it."

Whether she's playing cagey or not, she doesn't appear to be particularly interested in the object. It's not particularly pretty, not particularly dynamic compared to the other objects in her well-ordered museum, so it just sits alone.

(Giddy) "Clara, you have a deal! I hope I can do your museum credit with it. And who knows? Maybe my invention will find its way back here? Let me re-extend my invitation for you to visit the Hangry Haven for Inventor's Night, if you have the stomach for experimental prototypes.

"While you wrap up the red disk and bracket, do you remember which farmer turned the piece in or their address? And moreover, I have seen Mr. Davies around town, but do you have his address? I would like to discuss his displays with him at greater length.

"I am so glad I followed my curiosity today!"

"I'd be happy to stop in some evening! Sounds like fun. Well, unless there are explosions. Explosions in confined spaces aren't that much fun, but I'd love to stop by." It seems like Inventor's Night might be right up her alley.

"The farmer? It's been a while....Sanders? Flanders? I don't remember, really. It's been quite some time, he may have passed away by now. Mr. Davies is still on the north side, I think. There's a side street north of the Milford factory, he's up that way on the right side. Might be the only smithy on that street, so you might not have too much trouble finding it."

She goes on to tell you about one of the other kinetic sculptures, the one with animals. It has horses, and tigers, and monkeys, and lizards, but it doesn't really hold your attention.

"What is also apparent is that you have all had a long and arduous day. I do not work tomorrow evening. Shall we meet at Foxhound Fountain after your day's labors?"[/quote]

Holmes and Varyu, having located located Fritz (who annoyingly is being uncharacteristicly silent about what he found in the offices or even if he had found opportunity to do so. Perhaps he is waiting to share once we meet up with Ms Wynn) head off to rondavue with Samar at the Foxhound Fountain.

Captain_Hoyt wrote:

One object moves different, rising from the floor, moving nearly straight up before arcing over the top of the machine, and heading straight back down before repeating its motion. From the back end of this piece, a jagged brass piece painted reds and oranges, moves in and out of the brass cylinder as it moves. To the untrained eye, it might look like flames.

Outside the Museum of Oddities, Mrs. Wynne took one more long look at the kinetic display, then briefly noted in her journal both the display with its various flying machines and then much more briefly the events from inside the museum. The more she wrote in her journal, the more Mrs. Wynne became paranoid that the wrong person would read it. But without out it, she was not sure how much she would remember or not about her life's current trajectory. She felt like a detective - or how she imagined a detective would feel. "I need to get to the bottom of this, and then I can return to my normal life, or not....(?)" At that, the bells began to blow through Dorset, and Mrs. Wynne made for her scheduled rendezvous.

Mrs. Wynne approached Foxhound Fountain and saw Mr. Varyu, Dr. Holmes, and Mr. Weigel approaching from the direction of the Milford Shirt Factory. She was relieved to see that it must have been a relatively ordinary day at work for them, with no repercussions from their exploits the previous evening.

But then her paranoia increased. She immediately wanted to show them the artifact from the museum, but here? In the street? Where was a private place that they could all discuss and inspect it properly? It was far beyond her current expertise.

"Gentlemen, I have purchased something which I believe will be of great interest to our. . .interests. It is of a technological nature. Do any of you know of a private place we could discuss it openly? I supposed we could wait to inspect it until after we have had a bite of dinner. But I would not consider it an imposition to enjoy a meal from one of your tables given the 50 silver I just paid for the contents of this parcel."

I have a slip of paper that may be interesting, as well. I've got some sardines at home. It's one room really.

Fritz looks at the four of them.

My hovel may not fit us all. What does this parcel do, Mrs. Wynne?

Wilhundt speaks up quickly, not wanting sardines and also recognizing that it might be best in the long run to not know the contents of fritz' flat should authorities come around asking questions.

I have a fresh rabbit and some vegetables, I could fashion us a hearty stew while we talk.

Rabbit stew, sounds about right. I've a modest flask, but shall share what I can.

Fritz's is happy he doesn't have to show them his abode. He hasn't cleaned, sense...

They make their way to Wilhundt's flat. In truth, it is no larger than Fritz', but efficient use of the space allows for a small workbench along one wall in addition to ample space for the four of them. The bed is on stilt legs on the wall across from the door, allowing a desk below. A small table sits against the wall directly left of the door. His kitchenette to the right. He pulls the table into the center of the room and motions for Henry and Fritz to grab it's 2 chairs. A third chair he aquires from the desk for Samar before he begins preparing the stew.

"Fritz, Samar, why don't you both share your discoveries from today? I am curious what you have in your parcel Samar.

Dr. Holmes looks around the flat curiously. His flat, of course is the same size, but he hadn't thought about some of the space saving things Wilhundt has incorporated. Other than his little hidey hole that is. "Rabbit stew sounds absolutely wonderful Wilhundt. I like what you have done with the place. Very ingenious what you have done to save space. I may have to steal some of your ideas."

Fritz starts quick glances of items, nooks, and crannies in the flat. His fingers, no longer idle move items aside, taking inventory of value versus risk. He considers pocketing Wilhundt's tools. It's a compulsion he can't help. His twitching fingers beg for the thrill of theft.

Nice flat. It ain't much larger than mine. I guess we could've gone and shared sardines.

Fritz sets his extra large flask on the table. His drinking has doubled, as of late.

Wilhundt you have glasses?

Fritz spies items on a shelf, interesting enough to distract from the alcohol. He pushes aside bits and baubles. Something may fetch a price.

Wilhudnt chunks the rabbit meat and chops some root vegetables. Looking up, he sees Fritz is moving about the room. "Please, everyone, make yourselves comfortable at the table. There are glasses just there, in the cabinet. I have some bottled ale in the crate (motions to his left), or here is some of the hard stuff if you prefer. I will just be another moment. Once this is on the hotplate I can join you. Fritz, Don't touch anything please. Did you find out anything interesting at work today? As for myself, I had hoped to get a better look at the ship but the tarp they applied appears to have it wrapped up quite thoroughly. Milford, I heard, was not amused that it had been tampered with. I wager there will be a watch on it from now on." With the pot brought to a boil, he turns the plate down just enough to maintain a simmer, drops in some biscuit dough to float on the top, they will thicken the broth some as they cook into moist dumplings. With that task done, Wilhundt joins the others at the table, keeping eyes on Fritz as he does so, thinking 'so help me fritz, leave my stuff alone.'

Fritz, care to join us at the table now?

I's only browsi-looking. I ain't gonna steal nothing. I got this paper from Wuyuan's office when I was... Doing what I do best. Fritz stands at the table holding the paper in the light to read "When I came in this morning, I found that somebody had been tampering with Whitey." Whitey, an odd name for a vessel, would'ntchu think, anyway, "Some of the paste had been removed and the handle exposed. Tell Arvin and Meese to get some canvas on that, totally cover it, with a couple chains and padlocks underneath. Should be good enough until the boiler is on the factory floor, then we can get the night crew to push Whitey onto the stand. Should be back to normal in a day or two, then we can see how this big girl does the job on the factory floor.
-- Milford
P.S. Oh, yes. Be sure to leave the warehouse rails in place, right up to the door. It may be a while, but we're going to need them, I think. The rest of the rails can go back to the depot.
P.S.S. Did Ms. Wickham ever get back to us about the offer?" that's what it says.

Fritz tosses the paper on the table and walks over to the cabinet, rooting for glasses. He removes four tumblers and passes them to everyone. He pours each a snort. And raises his glass, To Whitey, I 'spect.

He drops the liquid down his throat and pours another, then sits at the table.

Mrs. Wynne what have you for us?

Henry takes the drink and raises the glass in toast to Whitey. Following Fritz's example he drains his glass in one. He then holds it out to Fritz for a refill.

"Perhaps this three day "vacation" is just to get every one out of the way to do whatever they mean to do with Whitey."

He then turns his attention to Mrs. Wynne to hear what she has to say.

"If you would have asked me at the Fountain, I would have told you, 'I have paranoia.' But gentlemen, someone or something is not to be trusted in all this. And I mean to poke it.

"And in listening to the note that Mr. Weigel has read us, I believe I have begun to do so. I met none other than Ms. Wickham today at the Museum of Oddities, and purchased this parcel from her. And if you have been listening to what I have been telling you - there is only one Ms. Wickham in all of Dorset.

"Here, Mr. Varyu - what do you make of this? When I saw it, I thought it matched your description from last evening.

"And all who are willing to speak of the danger we're in and pay their share of the 50 silver - not out of chivalry but out of covenant - may call me Samar and not Mrs. Wynne. I for one will not be brushed out of the way for anyone any longer."

Mrs. Wynne slides the parcel across the table to Mr. Varyu and lowers her voice, but not her eyes.

Wilhundt sets his empty glass down and takes the parcel from Samar.  His breath checks a bit as the contents are revealed, for before him sits what appears to be the missing button from the ship's control panel.

"Samar, you glorious woman, by following mere impulse, it appears you have aquired exactly the piece that was missing from Whighty's control pedestal. Fritz, have you 25 silver? If so, give it to Samar. You can subtract 12 silver and 5 copper from what you owe me."

"Henry, I fear you may be correct about the reasoning of our 3 day break."

"Samar, I fear this is the item Milford wishes to purchase from Miss Wickam. Though curious she would sell to you, so cheaply, the item that she apparently declined to sell Mr Milford. I say fear because if this is indeed that item, it may be discovered that it is now in your possession and I know not to what lengths Milford may go to aquire it. What, pray tell possessed you to enter Mrs Wickhams museum today? I feel whatever prompted you to enter may have value in exploring further as well. This is too much consequence that you are here tonight bearing the exact item needed to repair Whighty."

As he talks, Wilhudnt has stood and carried the object over to his workbench. Some of the materials in it he has never seen the like of. At least, not in this "Dorset" life. The flexible covering over thin copper strands is one such material.

Attached to the bench is a hinged arm with a stack of looking glasses at it's end.  Not needing much magnification for this object, he flips 2 of the 4 lenses out of alignment and peers through this device to get a closer look as he waits for a continuation of Samars tale.

12 silver and five copper? I paid you what I owed. Samar pardon, please excuse my friend here. He's confused, as he often is. I 'spect. I'll toss ya 50 your way for the trouble. Let's remember Wilhundt is cheap and pushes unknown debts upon his camarades.

Fritz raises a glass and downs a second, while flips a coin in Samar's direction. It over shoots, ricochets off the wall.

Sometimes luck ain't my thing.

He sits and pours another.

Can ya figure it out.

Fritz, if ye hadda paid me, gah! Now I'mtalking like you!

Ahem, if you had paid me, I would certainly remember it.

Wilhundt, checks his purse and his demeaner shifts from irritation to sheepishness.

well, it seems that perhaps I did forget. It is all here."

He counts out 25 silver and tosses it to Fritz.

"We cannot have you paying for all of it now. You will lord it over us forever."

"If Mayor Milford is wise to this ship and we were unwise - does it mean that it is he who is hiding the truth from the rest of us? He certainly has not announced it. Perhaps it is only that he discovered the truth first?

"What is Mayor Milford's character? He is well liked.

"If he comes to me for the missing piece, maybe he will do better than throwing fifty silver across the room. So far it is only the doctor in all his chivalry who has yet to use my familiar name and talk of money owed me yet give me none. Am I to go crawling across your floor after my feats at the Museum of Oddities! Go there yourself, and you will see why I went in.

"I am not as angry as I sound, but I cannot believe I have put my trust in you lot. I know not why I have. Milford's men seem much more organized.

"How about this: Did you not say there was another ship in town? I reckon this Witey ship is guarded now.

"All of you were daring in what you did last night, and perhaps moreover in returning to work today.

"Can Milford be bargained with? I wonder if I should not go to work to be found, but in public where I may decipher Milford's character without being in much danger. Wilhundt can keep the piece here, and my journal for that matter. I will not be caught with either one. It could be he desired something else of Ms. Clara Wickham, that he proposed some other offer, but I know none of that.

"Do we bargain with Milford or search for another ship? Or do we storm the factory now before they know we have the missing piece?

"No doubt I shall come to learn of Mayor Milford's character by one way or another in good time."

Mrs. Wynne resigns herself to sipping at her drink.

Dr. Holmes silently gets up and retrieves the silver off the floor and places it in front of Mrs. Wynn. He then pulls another 50 silver from his vest pocket and places it next to the other silver.

"If we are to continue investigating these mysteries together I shall of course pay my share. I would be advise caution for now when dealing with Mr. Millford. I have some small skill with medicine and yet find myself working in a shirt factory and doing menial labor laying track to move boilers that aren't boilers. I tell you I feel like this is not meant to be my lot. If any of you feel the same I ask you, would you trust the one that seemingly is pulling the strings? Or at least benefitting from our misery? I admire your gumption Mrs. Wynne and if you wish to try your luck with Mr. Millford that is of course your prerogative but I would not trust him and I don't believe we three have done anything as of yet to deserve your ire.

Dr. Holmes sits back down and tosses back another drink.

"Perhaps the realization of our predicament is stretching all our nerves a bit. Again I would advise caution, patience, and vigilance. We can wait a bit and see what Mr. Millford does. Or we if we think this is the part we need to fix the ...whatever...we can attempt another foray into the factory to make repairs, but we know it is likely to be watched. If we wait to long though it may be that Mr. Millford makes repairs on his own or moves the machine again out of caution."

Dr. Holmes gives an audible sigh and holds up his glass.

"May I have another Wilhundt? And boy is that stew starting to smell good."

Samar take no offensed, really. It's nothing do'n with you, except, giv'n Wilhundt over there a some sand and playing. Wilhundt! FOOD!![/color]

Fritz stands as graceful as a drunk, hobbles over to the ale and picks a stout and makes his way around to Samar, offering the brew. Doc have a drink or two.

Fritz carries another cup to Wilhundt, Wilhundt, no hard feel'ns, eh?

Fritz returns to his seat and waits for the "-Food", he says.

Wilhundt stands, looks at the all but empty bottle of grain alcohol, picks it up to empty it in his glass then changes his mind and finishes it straight from the bottle instead before leaving the table to dole out portions of the stew for all.

"Henry, any idea at all where you may have seen another pod like Milfords?

He sits back down at the table with his own bowl, pauses to eat a spoonful, and continues.

"I propose that Samar and I go have a look at this new art installation at the museum and then visit it's creator.  Fritz and Henry, why don't the two of you have a look around town for this other pod for a bit before sneaking by the factory and scoping out whether it is under guard now?  Let's meet up back at the Hangry Haven 2 hours past sundown to share what we've learned while Fritz drinks someone else's ale?"

Your Ale was delicious. The stew don't beat a proper tin of sardines, but it'll do. Before ya get'n angry I play the fool with ya. It's better, it's better. Almost brings a tear to m'eyes.

Fritz shovels the bowl's contents into his mouth.

*burp* where shall we start? Lemme fill-up m'flask, before we go.

Fritz walks over to the "hard stuff" Wilhundt had mentioned.

I wasn't gonna say not'ing about da Hangry. I's gonna say... take a look see at that factory's security to see there's ways around it. Maybe...

Fritz picks up a bottle of ale.

The Haven ain't a bad idea, Doc.

Fritz pops open the ale and walks towards the door. He stops.

We get'n d'is thing started? Let's go.

With Fritz for company Dr. Holmes heads out to retrace his steps from the other day.

"See you two in a bit." he calls back to Wilhundt and Mrs. Wynne.

"Now remember Fritz. The thing we're looking for was just the same shape as the one at the factory. But I don't think the size was the same. And I can't rightly recall whether it was bigger or smaller, so don't get too hung up on the size, if you think you see something the same shape give a shout."

I know you don't know where where, but ya recall anything near it. Fountain, Carriage, wraught iron fences

Fritz tosses the bottle, half full. A serious demeanor falls over him.