"Eh? Wot?" Pembleton starts awake from his snoring. "What's that..? Oh." He rubs his eyes with his thumb and forefinger.
"An excellent point, Miss Gallagher. There is an absence of information here that perhaps Parkes can fill in. We do know that the one who hired those men to attack our carriage had black hair, while Theodosia Sparks was quite fair. That said, she could clearly change her appearance. And of course, the carriage had already been tampered with before we stepped in it."
"I have assumed, since going over our missives," he adds, "that there were two missions here: stop an attack from the outside, and stop a bomb found within."
Pembleton begins piecing more devices, coils and armoured fabrics together, making some kind of small wrap or large belt.
Simon's burusque threats start to calm down Parkes and finally Lottie rushes in and manages to settle down the -extremely- agitated man.
"N-neutralized? Oh thank you thank you." His weapon clatters to the ground and he slumps back. "She is... well, was my greatest rival. Hated me. Swore she'd have me dead! Brilliant woman - if we're honest a better savant than I ever was. But she had no business savvy, no connections. Had no clue how the politics of it worked. While she was getting drunk and talking about how brilliant she was, I was establishing my connections with the crown."
He produces a handkerchief and dabs his face of sweat. "She vanished a little while before I announced the commission for the Emmanuel - I never suspected any of this was her doing. The bomb threat we received, I didn't even think of her. I have a lot of enemies! A man of my means, you surely understand."
Parkes stares at the floor a while. "Why did she attack us? Did she say anything about a bomb? We could never find one."
Bending to retrieve Parkes's dropped pistol, Simon will inspect it absent-mindedly as he both berates the savant and plies him with questions.
"We were a mite too busy shooting at each other to ask many questions. We'll speak with some of her followers shortly; however, it doesn't make much sense to plant a bomb and then attempt to capture the ship. That means that either the bomb is a hoax, or you have more than one enemy attempting sabotage - I strongly suspect that latter. What can you tell us, for example, about Sir Pimsoil?"
"Parkes seems to have a real knack for makin' friends, he does." Eileen mutters, sliding her legs over the edge of the gurney. She pauses as a thought strikes her.
I wonder, she thinks, if Sparks died suddenly -and- with something important so close but unresolved, maybe she...
She purses her lips, trying not to betray any outward sign of her suspicions.
"I think I could use a bit'a fresh air," she suddenly suggests, slipping to her feet.
Parkes blinks incredulously as Simon barks at him. "Eustace?! He's an idiot! Tottering fool has some bloody connections though, I'll give him that."
----
In the meantime, Pembleton manages to whip up a device for Eileen's wound, powerful enough that she won't even know she was shot.
"Eustace?! He's an idiot! Tottering fool has some bloody connections though, I'll give him that."
Simon smiles wryly: "Some might say that description fits yourself..."
Sighing and scrubbing a hand over his eyes, Simon growls: "I don't have time to do all the work myself - THINK! He has connections; you have connections - who is connected and wants you dead?! I'm not saying Pimsoil is involved (though he was acting suspiciously), but someone is!"
Barring any clear objections from Pembleton, Eileen slips out of the infirmary and carefully makes her way back to the main deck, still slightly favoring one side to avoid tweaking her stiff shoulder.
Once there, she gradually maneuvers close to where the last moments of the fight occurred. She tilts her head slightly to one side, subtly listening for any noises that don't seem to belong. Her gaze sweeps over her immediate vicinity, on alert for any unusual movement or a telltale shimmer in the air.
He scoffs at the insult. "I am very good at what I do sir, just because I'm not killing people with dangerous, wild inventions like Sparks was doing. I play my trade well, and know how to sell it to those in power. As for that ponce Pimsoil, he didn't even buy a ticket! Frankly I'm not sure how you lot got on either, but I suppose you were one of the agencies that bought tickets for staff or something. With Pimsoil we were over capacity and I had the Secretary of State personally tell me to get him on the ship."
--------
Pembleton whips up his healing device which he applies to Eileen. Knowing these devices only work within the first hour after an injury, he gets it together quite quickly. The bullet is extracted and the wound patched up with an adhesive and painkiller. Although Eileen will sport a scar, she's soon painless and has full movement.
Feeling much better, Eileen heads up to the deck to clear her mind, and get a sense of the ship.
The deck of a ship is a strange place to look for spirits, but a battle did just take place here. What causes a spirit to stay in this world or leave is unknown - they usually aren't much for company and instead quite single-minded.
Particularly this one, and she turns around to see a dark form rushing straight for her! Before she can properly react, the spirit rushes through to little effect beyond a horrid chilling sensation. It turns to face her, and she sees the woman who just died, Theodora Sparks. She screams with rage before rushing at Eileen again, to the same effect.
The crew doing cleanup don't seem to notice a thing, but as Theodora's spirit passes past or through them, they shift uncomfortably.
Eileen huffs out an irritated, "not this again" sort of sigh, rolls her eyes, and turns to face the apparition.
"Oi, Sparks," she hisses. "Stop that. You're just wasting time."
She keeps her voice low, not shouting for fear of alerting the crew and having to make a bunch of awkward explanations.
"Look, I'll explain things, right, but if you wanna get at that mug Parkes, ya have to tell me why. That is what you want, innit? Tell me and I'll see if I can help, yeah?"
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Pembleton has a little fun with Eileen's healing vest, pulling down his goggles and shouting "STAND CLEAR FOR INCOMING DEATH BEAM!" as he pushes down on a plunger and ducks behind a chair. He chortles afterwards, apologizing through it as the healing effect tingles deeply and repairs her shoulder. Whether it's funny or not, he clearly thinks it is.
After she departs, the old man adjusts his somewhat-ruffled look to a more proper appearance and begins waddling around the ship aimlessly, looking at anything of interest.
The spirit makes another futile swipe through Eileen before she finally hovers before your face for a moment, looking stunned.
You can see me?! Who are you people? You stabbed me in the back you wretched girl. All I wanted was Parkes so I could stop that damned bomb!
---
After scaring the absolute s!~* out of some of the staff, Pembleton decides he's earned himself a brandy on a walk and so procures both. He looks at the deck for a moment to spot Eileen staring weirdly at nothing and Vada piloting the Emmanuel over Italy. Constantinople is not too far from here now.
He then heads belowdecks. Passengers are now starting to leave their quarters but seem scared to go up. A woman rushes up to Pembleton. "Good sir is it safe to go up again! We hear gunfire! Were there pirates?!"
Wanting to dispense with the usual explanations, Eileen sighs. "Yeah, I can see you. No one else can. Don't ask me why."
She gives a quick glance to either side to see if anyone is paying any particular attention to her. "We'll get to the rest, I promise, but - what bomb? Where is it? We're tryin' to stop it too. What does Parkes have to do with it?"
Pembleton smiles under his moustache, patting the woman's hands.
"Yes, there were boarders, madam, but I can assure you that they have been thoroughly repelled. Everything is quite safe now, quite safe." He pauses a moment, thinking, and speaks louder to everyone. "But I would remain below decks for now, everyone. We are nearing our destination, but there is a.. bit of a mess on the deck upstairs, you see. Certainly not suitable for a visit quite yet."
He flaps his hands at them, halfheartedly shooing them back to their rooms, and decides to wander off to see where Simon may have gotten to.
"Pah! What does the Secretary of State have to do with Eustace!? "
Looking down at Lottie, Simon shakes his head: "I never thought I'd say this, but I wish my brother were here - he's the one with a head for politics. This all seems ridiculous to me - if you want to hurt someone, then you stab them. You don't hide a bomb on that will kill hundreds of people and then send a note saying 'haha! now you'll regret that one time when you laughed at me.'"
"Let's go find those pirates and see if they have anything interesting to say."
=============
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"How should I know?!" interjects Parkes. "And fine... they m-must have some idea what they came here for."
You leave with Parkes in tow, running into Pembleton as he calms some terrified passengers.
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She lets out a low wail, clearly distressed before she starts speaking. "I feel nothing but rage... it's hard for me to hold on. I'll be quick. Parkes ruined my life. That bastard stole my ideas and watered them down only to sell them through his political connections. So I sought my revenge - this airship, his greatest achievement, I would ruin it." She casts around wildly. "Using connections, I paid off his work crew - I was afforded access to the ship before launch. There, I sabotaged what I could to embarrass him. Nothing dangerous. I found a carriage for distinguished guests and redirected it to some hoods who were to put a proper scare into the guests. Finally, I sent a bomb threat.. My hope was to ruin this voyage and his reputation, nothing more!"
She moans slowly, her eyes flashing red as she hovers before you. "And I became Prudence as she calls herself. You met her. You see, I had imbibed an elixir which I had crafted to grant me great strength and force of will, but the woman I became while under its influence was not myself and instead this... monster of great evil. She would fade after a while, but in a time of stress she would return and do wicked things. After I sewed my mischief, she returned the next day and - I believe - used a connection on the ship to plant an actual bomb. Once I was myself the ship had already launched. I called in favours to a pirate crew so we could fly out here to stop the bomb, but Prudence took over... and now I am dead. None of these people here deserve to die, not even Parkes. We need to find that bomb!"
Eileen listens intently, trying to balance the competing concerns of taking in the deluge of information and not obviously talking to an invisible person that only she can see. Nonetheless, she can't help but wince at a few points in the explanation - first at the mention of the hired hoodlums and then again at the revelations about Theodora's alter ego.
"I'm sorry - for everythin'. Really," Eileen says in a low voice, her expression one of sincere regret. "We didn't know - and once she started snuffin' the crew..." She gives a quick shake of her head and attempts to change the subject.
"Least I can do is try to help fix the rest - an' maybe then you can rest as well, yeah?"
She takes a deep breath.
"Any idea where to start lookin'? And..." She pauses as a thought seems to occur to her. "Could ya tell me somethin' only one'a you nobby inventor types would know? Somethin' technical - or somethin' only you an' that fraud Parkes know about? Then MAYBE they'll believe me."
"Ah, Simon! Mrs. Wandsworth!" Pembleton greets both warmly, but his jowls drop as he looks with displeasure at the savant now with them. "And Mr. Parkes. Finally out of your room, I see."
He looks to Simon. "What news, if any?"
Simon's scowl lessens as the old soldier comes into view: "It's good to see you Sir Pembleton; I trust Mistress Eileen is faring better then we left her? And no, no news of any particular import. It seems Parkes here had a rivalry with that woman, Sparks was it? I gather she was the more brilliant, but he the better connected."
"Oh, and a small point that I haven't yet had a chance to relay - Sir Pimsoil has hanging suspiciously about in the engine room when I was down there earlier - he was talking to some boy who ran off before I could interrogate him. It's a bit hard to believe that twit would be involved, but I'm running out of ideas. Parkes here says he was pressured by the Secretary of State to invite Eustace aboard."
"At any rate, I was on my way to speak with those pirates."
"Ah, well. Lay on, MacDuff." Pembleton steps aside and lets Simon lead the way, taking up the rear behind Parkes. He speaks to Simon over the man's shoulder.
"May as well find this Pimsoil chap while we're at it, eh? Rough him up a little if need be, boorish as it may be. British lives at stake and all that. Can't leave anything to chance, can we?"
Pembleton has an odd thought that perhaps the various savant devices around the ship might, when placed together, form some sort of bomb. Working from the idea that this is likely hogwash, he nonetheless does the mental mathematics to see if this is possible.
==========
===========
Pembleton does a quick think and although feasible, it seems a stretch as the components would have be laboriously moved into a single location, combined, and then attached to a good supply of explosive like fuel.
Reunited with Lottie, the three of you head off to the makeshift brig.
----
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The spirit flickers before you as she struggles to maintain form. "If I was to plant a bomb, I plant it somewhere that would insult Parkes' intelligence. Obvious. Tell Parkes that insipid tie press' pneumatic mechanism was stolen from my plans for a rivet gun, plans he scuttled as the Eccentric's Society banned the creation of weapons, thanks to his blasted politi--" as she grows angrier, she swipes at the air before fading out.
On the off chance that Sparks can still hear her, Eileen whispers, "Thank you. We'll get this sorted."
Taking one final look around to see if anyone has noticed her apparently one-sided conversation, she quickly sets off in search of the others.
Pembleton informs the other - including Eileen, if everyone should meet up now.
"A thought occurs, my friends. It seems to me that many of the... unique devices around the ship could be used as an explosive device if assembled together. They'd need to be attached to a fuel source, of course."
The four of you meet up and take off belowdecks to interview the prisoners. Meanwhile, the Emmanuel continues on its journey, cutting south from the French coastline and over the sparkling Mediterranean.
The two surviving pirates and the captain are in some refashioned servants quarters that are fitted with simple locks on the outdoors. A rather nervous-looking young man holds an inconveniently large rifle as he sits at some chairs. He looks at all of you and clears his throat.
"Urm... Vada told me to expect you to talk to the prisoners. Be careful, they may have some fight in them."
He points to two blank doors and moves over to unlock one. Within is a rather despondent looking ruffian who jumps to his feet, but sits back down once he sees four well-armed people.
"You lot." He spits.
Seeing the prisoner, Eileen turns her back to him and gathers the others for a brief aside. In a low voice, pitched to escape the prisoner's hearing, she tells them:
"I got some news. I know who mighta planted the bomb an' why. I also know why Sparks attacked an' hired those bludgers. Yer prolly not gonna believe -how- I found out, but yer gonna have ta trust me."
Eileen gives each of the others a slightly defiant, challenging look, as if daring anyone in advance to call her crazy.
Pembleton blinks back at Eileen from behind his glasses. Having valued her abilities as a good soldier immensely thus far, he moves instead past how and straight into what.
"You certainly have my trust, Miss Gallagher, and I'm sure you had your methods. What have you learned?"
Pointing a warning finger at the prisoner, Simon turns to listen to Eileen: "Frankly, any information is more than the conjectures I have. We've been through enough that I think we all trust one another - so, let's hear it."
Without any further hesitation, Eileen launches in to a quick summary.
"Sparks wanted ta ruin Parkes for nicking her ideas, so she sabotaged a buncha the things onboard. Also the carriage, though the bludgers in the alley were just supposed to scare some nobby passengers. She sent a letter makin' the threat."
She gives a quick glance over her shoulder at the prisoner before continuing.
"She didn't plant the bomb though - or, er, not exactly. She'd made this whatsit to make her strong an' whatnot, but it made her someone different - someone she called Prudence, the big grey one we met. She believed that Prudence had taken over sometime after all her sabotage, come back, an' planted an actual bomb. That's why she hired the pirates to bring her here - ta try ta stop it. But Prudey popped back up on the way here."
She pauses, brow furrowed, before quickly adding.
"Oh, right - an' the bomb would prob'ly be somewhere that'd be an obvious insult to Parkes - somewhere that'd be a jab at his abilities."
After she concludes, Eileen glances over her shoulder at the prisoner again, self-consciously brushing imaginary debris from her dress.
The prisoner, knowing what to do when scary armed people are talking in front of him, just clams up.
Pembleton considers this awhile, nodding and looking to the others. It seems logical to him that the pirates, now imprisoned before them, may have knowledge of the whereabouts of the bomb.
"Well done, Miss Gallagher. Let's see what this lot knows about a location."
The old soldier unwraps his weapon, fires it up for the visual electrical effect and the unpleasant crackling noise, and turns to the prisoner in the doorway. He leaves it unloaded of any solid shells, but his brow is furrowed and he speaks in a stern tone.
"Where's the bomb?"
Lottie sighs as Pembleton starts trying to looks terrifying. "Stand in the back, love. You'll hurt yourself."
She steps in waggling her purse menacingly. "These 'ere bloodthirsty maniacs are gonna kill you where you stand unless you start prattling! Tell us everything! Where's the bomb?!"
The man in the cell goes white. "Don't kill me! I... I don't know what happened! I... we're with the Red Cap Brigade, we gots some ornithopters and do raids on airships for hire. Got a call for a job, saying we had to board a ship and find a bomb and maybe put a scare into a guy. But the woman what showed up was that monster you shot who changed back! She said we was going for blood instead so this Parkes fellow'd learn his lesson, and didn't say nothing about no bomb. Was right confusing, but she doubled our pay so we went with it."
Pembleton scoffs through blustering cheeks, but is amazed by the older woman's skills once again. He powers the rail gun off as the pirate finishes.
Eileen glances at the others uncertainly, finally offering her own reluctant interjection.
"The job offer ya got - it give -any- clue where the bomb might be? An' remember, yer stuck on board now, too, so..." She lets this sentence trail off, allowing the implication to sink in.
To the others, she adds in a low voice, "Should prob'ly see if any of this gives Parkes any ideas, too."
Pembleton recalls the ornithopters were parked and nobody seems to have messed with them last he was on the deck.
The man gulps noisily. "I uh... look, I thought we was getting on and off this ship after she did whatever she wanted to do to that Parkes fella. Her note to me boss to hire us just said there was some bomb we needed to disarm quiet like - we was gonna guard her while she did the work. Said there was gonna be noise to cover what she did but that's all I got!"
"If it were me," Pembleton remarks thoughtfully, "I'd compile all the devices together and put it... in his stateroom, say, or right out on the main deck where everyone is looking at it. Or put it in the walls with a connection to the engine room, and have it triggered by his pneumatic tie press."
Putting a brick-like hand, none-too-gently, on Parkes's shoulder, Simon asks: "Well, how about it? What would be the most humiliating defeat for you?"
Simon reaches behind him and grabs Parkes, who was trying to hide around a corner, and hauls him into sight. Parkes looks stricken before he just loses his temper.
"I checked every damn part of this ship for that stupid bomb! How do we know one actually exists?! You expect me to humiliate myself because of the hunch of some teenage girl? I checked the obvious places and the unobvious places and -particularly- the engine room. I designed every spot of that room by hand. There's no way anyone could place a bomb there without my knowing."
Eileen bristles for a moment, opening her mouth to snap off a quick retort, but she manages to force it down. Instead, she replies in a cold, calm voice.
"Is it a also a hunch that yer tie-press was nicked- sorry, inspired by the rivet gun Sparks designed before yer Eccentric Society banned weapons, thanks partly to you?"
She stares impassively at Parkes's face, any sympathy she might have once had for the man evaporating into the ether.
"But of course yer right- no one could hide somethin' from you. That bit with yer fancy wind shield must've been a fluke, yeah?"
"Ha! Emm." Pembleton barks a jovial laugh in agreement with Eileen, but forces a frown and covers it up lamely with a cough.
"Hmm." He thinks a moment. Could the windscreen itself be a bomb in some way?
Simon cuffs Parkes in the ear: "I'll tell you something my brother's forever telling me - lose some of your damned (apologies, ladies) pride before it gets you killed! Haven't you been listening to Sir Pembleton? Just because the bomb wasn't there before doesn't mean it isn't there now."
Turning to the older savant: "I suppose we might have a bit of time...? Setting a bomb off over the Mediterranean where there's nobody to see it won't be as dramatic as an explosion at the docks in Istanbul"
Pembleton blinks out a porthole, adjusting his round spectacles. He sees little he recognizes but was on the deck a short time ago. "I think we're relatively close.
"That fellow... the prat that tapped Palamedes with his cane. What's his name...?" Pembleton snaps his fingers before remembering. "Pimsoil. Sir Pimsoil. You felt he was suspect, Simon, yes? Well, I trust your instincts, sir. Perhaps you and Mrs. Wandsworth could do what needs to be done there, while Ms. Gallagher and I look for things about the ship, possibly independently of one another? We'd cover more ground that way." He looks to Eileen. "I feel like we should look for... people, somehow. Or things they are wearing. As if looking in as of itself is too much, and we need to step back. See the larger picture, as it were."
Pemebleton has spent enough time on the windscreen to know that it's probably clean.
Parkes' outrage fades as he stares at Eileen. "How did you know that?! Have you been going through my things you little sneak?" He adjusts his tie, affronted. "Sparks was out of control and using her inventions for reasons unbecoming of the society. No inventor should ever seriously consider the words 'death ray'. Weapons are beneath us - and a good tie press is an honest thing and a better damned use than some instrument of murder like that grotesquerie you carry about, sir." He waves vaguely in the direction of Pembleton's railgun.
Parkes continues ranting at you as you take off, in search of the fop Pimsoil.
Pembleton isn't overly offended, having been called worse by better, but is rankled a little. He fires a shot across Parkes' bow as he heads out.
"Indeed. Well." He pats Parkes twice on the shoulder lightly, smiling. "It will be nice that your tie was properly pressed, the next time a monster comes aboard to crush your head with a hammer."
Eileen snorts softly at Pembleton's remark as she follows behind him for the time being, content to leave Parkes to his impotent brooding.
"Goin' through his things. Pfeh," she snorts. "Least the thieves I know have the courtesy not to pretend like they're doin' the mark and society a favor."
Shrugging her shoulders awkwardly, she adds, "I, uh...rushed out so fast, I didn't get a chance ta thank you. For, you know." She indicates her shoulder with a tilt of her head. "'s almost like it never happened in the first place."