INVISIBLE ENERGY ALL AROUND
1904—St. Louis
The heat of the day had waned some by the time Jack Grew finally pulled himself out of bed, popped two more morphine cubes into his mouth, and made his way to the Exposition. St. Louis was a dump compared to the grandeur of New York, no matter how glorious the Society believed their little fair was. They’d never reach the status of the Order, now that he had transformed it, and their city would always be a backwater town wishing it were something more.
Still, begrudgingly, he had to admit that the lights were something to behold. They covered every surface of the fair, reflecting in the enormous lagoon and shining brightly, late into the night. The crowds had started to dwindle, and the Streets of Cairo were nearly empty. They were also nothing more than a second-rate attempt at resurrecting the splendor of a long-lost civilization. It was nothing compared to what Khafre Hall had been, or what the Order’s new headquarters would be when they were complete. They didn’t even have an authentic obelisk, he thought with some disdain, not like Manhattan, where one was planted in Central Park for everyone to see.
But none of that stopped Corwin Spenser and David Francis from preening about their Society’s offering at the fair—a singular stone set into an exquisite collar of platinum and polished so that it seemed to gleam from within.
An artifact that had once belonged in the Order’s vaults.
Do they know what they have? Jack wondered as he stared at the necklace in the velvet-lined case before him. Could these two men—and the rest of their ridiculous Society—know that the stone was one of the treasures taken from Khafre Hall? Were they gloating because they thought he cared about the Order’s power? Or did they truly believe they’d discovered some new object of power? He couldn’t be sure.
He didn’t actually care. The Order and its business only interested Jack insomuch as he could use them. He had already proven how easily the Inner Circle’s leadership could be made inconsequential back at the Conclave nearly two years ago. Impotent old men, all of them.
What Spenser and Francis didn’t realize while they boasted about the Society’s power was that the Order was simply a means to an end, a convenient tool for gaining Jack access to the right people and the right places. Places like this chamber, which had been closed for the night to the public but which Jack now had free access to, without the worry of being watched.
“Where did you say you found this piece?” he asked, keeping his voice casual and easy.
“Oh, we couldn’t reveal our contacts,” Spenser said, sheer satisfaction on his face.
“With the number of people coming through, it must be difficult making sure that you secure a treasure like this,” Jack mused. “Quite the feat, really.”
They took the bait. “Not difficult at all,” Francis boasted. “This chamber is fitted with the most modern security conveniences around. The walls are two feet of steel-reinforced concrete, impervious to bombs or bullets, and should anyone try to disturb the case, the doors seal over with vaults thicker than the bank downtown.”
Inconvenient, but not impossible.
“We’ve also protected against any . . . less desirable elements,” Francis added, his chest puffed out. “The ventilation system in this chamber is equipped with a machine that distributes a low level of suppressant for anyone who might think to use illegal powers to access it. Any disturbance and it increases the dosage tenfold, incapacitating the miscreant before they can cause any trouble.”
“And the Antistasi?” Jack asked. “I hear your city has had trouble controlling that element of late.”
Spenser bristled at that. “The Antistasi are not a threat to this city. The Society and their Guard have dealt with that problem, and should any other troubles arise, they too will be dealt with, swiftly and judiciously.”
“Perhaps, but you failed to deal with the Devil’s Thief, did you not?” Jack asked, keeping his tone mild and enjoying the way their faces flushed in consternation.
“We have it under control,” Francis insisted.
“Do you?” Jack asked. “Because she will come for this piece, gentlemen. You must know that?” He paused, letting his implication sink in. “But you must have everything in hand, because it would be quite the embarrassment to have her take it from you before the ball, especially after all you’ve promised. I know my brothers at the Order are well familiar with the sting of that particular humiliation,” he said, clearly implying that they’d enjoy witnessing the same thing happening to others. “And they’re eager to see if the necklace is all that you’ve promised.”
Spenser looked uneasy. “I’m sure you’ll be able to tell them that it is,” he said.
“Of course,” Jack said. “Most definitely. Congratulations, gentlemen.” He offered his hand to Spenser first. “You’ve outdone even the Order, I think.”
Spenser still looked somewhat uneasy as he took Jack’s hand. Perfect. Let them worry. It would keep the necklace safe from Darrigan and the girl until Jack could get his hands on it.
Across the room, Hendricks—the Guardsman from the hotel—was watching the group. Jack said his good-byes and motioned for Hendricks to follow him as he headed for the exit.
Outside, the Pike was as overcrowded as it was gauche. Jack led Hendricks away from the scene until they came to the building that housed displays of electricity. Inside the templelike structure, the De Forest Wireless Telegraphy Tower was sending messages through the air to Chicago and back. From what he understood, a similar technology combined with the hermetical arts was responsible for the Jefferson Guard’s ability to communicate so effectively and efficiently. According to Hendricks, the Guardsmen each wore a small medallion that could be activated to alert the others when a danger was spotted. It was, he reluctantly admitted, ingenious.
It was also a development that had captured Jack’s attention, since it wasn’t all that long ago that he himself had been interested in building his own machine. He’d nearly forgotten about how close he’d been those years ago, but this exhibit made him want to revisit the idea. The Book, after all, held answers he could only imagine, and a secret within its pages that might make his machine finally possible.
“Is there something you needed, sir?” Hendricks said. If he had any concerns about their excursion, he didn’t show it.
“I want to know where the Society found the piece they’ve displayed in the Streets of Cairo,” he said. “The necklace that everyone comes to gawk at.”
Hendricks’ brows went up, a question in his eyes.
“I’m hoping they might help me find another,” Jack said easily. “I’m a bit of a collector myself.” He slipped the Guardsman a large bill.
“I’m sure I could look into it,” Hendricks said, tucking the bill into his dark-coated uniform.
“There’s much more where that came from if you do. I want to know everything about the necklace—where they store it, when it will be moved, everything. I need a good man to help me, Hendricks. I’m hoping that good man will be you.”
“Of course, sir,” Hendricks said, his eyes shining with avarice. “Happy to be of service.”
“Excellent, Hendricks,” Jack said, thumping him roughly on the back and leaving him there, with invisible energy all around.