James reluctantly left his bedroom with a slightly wistful glance at Fiona still asleep in his bed. She was sent over from his Service to help him heal from injuries suffered during his last mission. She was doing more than just healing his physical injuries, but also reminding him that even with his replacement parts, he was still a man! His still healing leg was stiff and uncomfortable, but he knew he had a very important appointment to keep and one does not keep her waiting.

The young Queen looked at the man kneeling before her. She wondered at the advisability of knighting someone in a secret ceremony, but the recognition was well deserved even if the need for anonymity was also paramount.

“Rise, Sir James!” She watched as he rose rather unsteadily, using his cane for support.

“Thank you, Your Majesty! I am honored.”

“No, Sir James, it is we who are honored by your steadfast service. We do so hope you will refrain from being injured in that service in the future.”

Sir James gave a small smile, “I will endeavor to abide by your wishes, Your Majesty.”

“See that you do! Also, we think it is time for you to think of settling down. There are only so many times you can dance on the edge and come back to us. We will give thought to your future in our service and also consider a future wife for you, Sir James.”

His face blanched at her words. The last thing he was interested in was marriage. His thoughts returned to whom he left sleeping in his bed before he took a steam carriage to his appointment with the Queen.

With his investiture over, he departed the palace the way he entered, though a small obscure entrance that few people knew existed, and exited off the grounds through a little-used gate. He walked with care, using his cane for more than an affectation. He caught an old-fashioned horse-drawn hackney carriage to a non-descript building far off the well-traveled streets of London. He stood outside for a moment as the shadow of one of the now-ubiquitous airships passed overhead. “Who would have thought such times would come?” He said to himself briefly as he looked up. He didn’t notice who had just come out.

“Welcome back, Sir James,” said a familiar voice.

“Stuff that nonsense, Basil, the last thing I need is to draw any more attention to myself.”

Lord Basil Charleton, Sir James’s nominal superior, smiled at his comment. “Don’t let Her Majesty hear you call being knighted as ‘nonsense.’”

“Only if you tell her and then I’ll know who to blame.”

“How’s the leg and...” there was a slight pause, “ ... the hip?”

“It’s getting better, still some healing around the new pieces and parts. The nurse you sent is a marvel! And that doctor, wherever did you find her? She’s been over several times.”

“The doctor is from the West. She’s been working on several high-level projects and seemed the best choice since she was the one who made your new ‘pieces and parts’ as you called them. The Queen is the one who recommended her. They are both pretty spectacular, aren’t they?” Basil said with a sly grin.

“Are you keeping tabs on me?”

“Nope, I just know you. Having women nurse your sorry carcass back to health is one way to keep things quiet. I thought it might get a rise out of you being treated by a woman instead of one of the usual doctors.”

“That it did, but not the one you thought.”

Both men laughed at the double-entendre. Basil knew James wouldn’t mind. He was one of the more progressive agents he had, which is why he was also one of the most effective. The very idea of a woman conceiving the plot he recently uncovered and dealt with so effectively would never have occurred to half of Basil’s people. Even now there were a few that still didn’t believe it, despite the evidence.

“So, Basil, what do you have for me?”

“Not a thing until you are one hundred percent. Foot chases through Berlin are out of the question in your current state.”

“Oh, you heard about that?”

“I hear everything eventually, even if you forget to put it in your report ... which I am still waiting on!”

James grinned, his lack of interest in the paperwork of his chosen profession was a running commentary between him and Basil. “When are you going to get a few of Charles Babbage’s analytical engines to handle report creation?”

“We have a bunch of them, but they will require information to be entered in them. Go home, James, wake up that nurse who tried her best to wear you out last night.”

“Tried? She succeeded all too well, Basil! You know too much for my comfort.”

“James, James, I am the Queen’s spymaster, I am supposed to know too much for your comfort. My only regard is Her Majesty’s comfort.”

“She thinks I should settle down.”

“Oh ho! Once she starts thinking along those lines, you better gird your loins because she is going to be looking for who she thinks would be a suitable wife. If you have any ideas, now is the time to drop a few names before she settles on one.”

“The last thing anyone in my profession needs is marriage!”

“My wedding precipitated my retirement from active duty and put me on a desk,” Basil said quickly.

“See? The last thing I want right now is a desk job!”

Basil laughed. “Maybe so, but if the Queen is serious, you might find yourself unable to refuse. You know how stubborn she can be!”

James laughed and changed the subject, “I heard Quentin wants to see me?”

“That he does since you’re here. He figured you might be tied up with the nurse and maybe even the lovely doctor for a while.”

“Does everyone here know about my love life?”

“Love life, no. However, your sex life is a constant source of amusement! Take the new lift.”

“Only if you’ve gotten the bugs worked out this time?” James said cautiously.

“Go and find out. I think you’ll be pleased.”

James went into the building and couldn’t believe the changes in a few short months. They had just installed the lift system when he was last here and it had a few problems. The lobby area looked almost the same, with an ornate set of stairs leading up. However, the old stairs leading down were gone and even the guard station to prevent anyone unauthorized from heading that way was missing. In its place was a small desk near a large mural on the wall.

The guard welcomed James, “Sir James, welcome back!”

“Easy on the ‘Sir’ stuff, Cedric. I work here just like you.”

The guard grinned. “Since the lobby is empty, I can fill you in.” He hands James a small square metal token. “There’s a small alcove,” he said pointing to the left, “in there’s another mural and it has a similar square. Hold it there, it’s magnetic, and the lift door will open.

James did as he was instructed and the mural slid to the side, double the width of a standard doorway. It opened to a small box-shaped room, which he understood would travel down and theoretically handle quite the load. His twelve or so stone weight shouldn’t be an issue. He mentally reviewed the word ‘theoretically’ and smiled internally.

“It’s perfectly safe, Sir James.”

“Cedric, old man, I flew back from Europe in an airship over the channel. I think I can handle the lift.”

“What was that like? I haven’t been up in one yet.”

“It’s a strange feeling, but pretty comfortable once you get used to the sudden ups and downs of the air currents. Not the same as a ship, but there is some similarity. Several people looked a little green, but nothing as bad as seasickness. The difference seems to be quickness. I mean the airship bumps in three dimensions rather faster than the slow-motion changes based on the water. I think people might be more susceptible to slower motion.”

“I’ll keep that in mind on my first trip. Can I do anything for you today?”

“Is Quentin in his den?”

“Yes sir, he’s been in several hours. Probably looking for tea shortly.”

James stepped in and waited as the doors shut and he started descending about as fast as he could have walked down the stairs.

As an added security precaution, it stopped just one floor down and the door opened to another desk and mural combination. Unlike Cedric upstairs, there were three guards, and they were armed with the new compression guns. James hadn’t had the chance to fire one of them yet, but ‘theoretically’ understood they could deliver ten bullets in two seconds at an incredible muzzle velocity. He eyed the weapons with interest.

They could be reloaded with a new magazine that included a tube of compressed air in a couple of seconds. While he had heard they made a distinctive noise when fired, they were much quieter than standard weapons. The added benefit was if you need that many bullets that quickly, they couldn’t be beaten. He heard there was one with a larger air tube and even more cartridges.

The guards were spaced around the room with one at the desk. James held out his credentials for their review. This level also contained many offices, somewhere was his own, but he rarely used it.

He knew all three of the guards, but he also knew that mattered little once you started down into the Sanctorum of secrets of the QCS, officially the Queen’s Clandestine Service. They cleared him and he repeated his actions at the mural behind this desk. Another door, another box-like room, only this one had a row of buttons indicating which level to stop at. He pressed the middle one and descended once again with a small wave at the guards. He thought if anyone realized that the basement which was dug when the building was built went deeper than anyone suspected. It was also one reason it was built on this motte, like the castles of old.

The small hill gave a good view of the area and plenty of room for several levels below ground. Of course, as London expanded, the view got pretty crowded as homes were on all the land around. Security used to be almost an afterthought, now with people so close, it was a byword.

It stopped at level three of five. This level was governed by the QCS’ own mad scientist, Quentin Evans Deveraux, also known as QED, which was Latin for “quod erat demonstrandum”, or “that which was to be demonstrated”. It was a notation most often placed at the end of a mathematical proof to indicate its completion. With Quentin’s ability to turn out incredible concepts often on quick notice, his initials seemed quite appropriate. QED was also known as ‘Quite Easily Done’, a phrase he not only uttered often but frequently made to come true. You can ask for nearly any type of gadget and QED will find a way to build it more often than not.

“James, my boy! Welcome back.”

Thanks, Quentin, at least you aren’t calling me ‘Sir James.’”

“I had forgotten about that, so you’ve had a busy morning.” QED smiled.

“Busy enough, you wanted to see me? Something specific?’

“Nothing dramatic. Since you are sidelined for a little while I thought I would take advantage and have you test out some of our new gear. Give it a real-life-operational viewpoint. How did the mini-cable work out?”

QED’s mini-cable was an attachment to a standard sidearm. It was about a couple of hundred feet of a thin, but very strong, wire-wrapped cable. One end was an interesting projectile that you stuck in the muzzle of your weapon and you fire it at a stone or wooden structure. The cable is paid out faster than you can think and the end penetrated deep and then expanded anchoring the cable securely. It can handle the weight of two, even three people.

James laughed, “I used it a little different from how you envisioned.”

QED quirked an eyebrow waiting for him to continue.

“Well, I was about to use it to cross a busy street about a couple of stories up. Just as I aimed it, a fellow burst through a door and was about to object to my presence, can you imagine that?”

QED laughed at that mental image. “And?”

“I had your cable loaded up, I shot him with it. He was certainly surprised to see a cable through his shoulder. I yanked on it and it came free after tearing backward through the meaty part of his shoulder. It was a bit too messy to fire it again, so I used it as a regular cable to lower myself to street level with it. I’m sorry, but I couldn’t carry it back with me.”

“No loss, the Farions already know how to make that sort of cable. We stole the idea from them. The hard part was building the steam-powered extruder and wire-wrapping machines to make it.”

“So, what do you have for me to test?”

“We can get into all that on Monday. I think you’ll be pleased with some of our new toys.”

James picked up what looked like a silver lighter and flipped it around in his hand. Before he could light it, QED snatched it from mid-air. “This is one you will like, but don’t confuse it with your regular lighter. It’s a Compressed Air Bomb, we call it the ‘CAB’.”

“How is that a bomb?”

“This container is filled with several hundred atmospheres of compressed air. It’s undetectable because there’s no actual explosive. Flick the flint wheel and toss it. In a few seconds, the inner container is breached and the heat from a small storage cell causes it to expand in all directions faster than the eye can follow. It’s not as destructive as an actual explosive, but it can apply an amazing amount of force in a small area. Anyone standing within three or four feet will not survive, the air itself will punch them. It would be like getting hit by a hammer with incredible force all over whichever side of your body was facing the CAB, not to mention the shrapnel from the case. Anyone close will be peppered with pieces of the lighter moving at almost the speed of a bullet. It will wound and may well kill someone out to nearly six or seven feet. Outside of ten feet, the projectiles slow to the point of not being lethal. Past fifteen, they won’t even break the skin.”

“Impressive! A bomb without the potential fire and destructive capabilities of an actual explosive and yet devastating within a set range. Nicely done and difficult I imagine?”

“Very, the equipment is both cumbersome and difficult, but it can turn out several cabs each day.”

How dangerous are they before they are primed?”

“That’s one of the tests I want you to do. How much damage can the casing suffer before exploding? We did some tests but need more. I want to make sure it’s safe to carry under operational conditions.”

“Safer than your mercury grenades?” James grinned as he said that. Those grenades, which used fulminate of mercury, were a spectacular failure, one of the worst in QED’s history. In theory, they worked well, but they were entirely too sensitive to use in the field. The only saving grace was there was a several-second delay once ignited and there was a strong odor that warned the holder to get rid of them.

“Safer, much safer!” QED stated emphatically.

James smiled at the memory of a training scenario when one of the trainees realized his grenade had ignited and he tossed it over a wall to get rid of it. It was a perfect response; however, over that particular wall was an outside storage shed which happened to contain a large quantity of the mercury grenades.

It didn’t survive, but no one was badly hurt. It did take some fast footwork with the local fire constabulary to explain how the large brick ‘shed’ was demolished by a collection of paint and some other flammable materials. James knew he never did buy the story, but he had no evidence left other than the remains of the small building.

As the two of them walked back out of the work area, James slipped one of the CABs into his pocket.

“Enjoy the weekend James, I’ll see you here Monday morning to start testing. Oh, and be careful with the CAB you pilfered. There’s no sound or scent for those.” He said smiling.

As James walked away, he thought, ‘That’s the problem with friends, they know what you are going to do even before you do it.’

He spent the rest of the day taking care of some personal business that had piled up while he was on the Continent. Reviewing his accounts at the bank was something almost enjoyable with the new calculation generators they were using. He lunched at his club and even voted on allowing women to join. He was one of the few ‘yea’ votes and he shook his head once again. He knew it would happen one day and thought clubs such as these could use an infusion of new blood!

Arriving back at his home, he found the doctor had come by for a check, and both she and Fiona, the nurse, were impatiently waiting for him and more than ready for another bout of ‘making Sir James well again’ in all aspects. The doctor, Rakell, and Fiona were ready to change his bandages and to take him to task for overdoing it. It wasn’t like he could say no to a summons from the Queen!

Once they took care of the medical business, Fiona, the nurse, joined him in his oversized bed. She laid across the bed and he rested his head on her belly while she played with his hair. It was a relaxing way to spend time until Rakell joined them.

She stood next to the bed and did something uncharacteristic to James, she stripped completely naked. James wasn’t sure where she was originally from, but ladies rarely went naked, even in bed with their paramours. She stood there, rubbing her body understanding it would have a certain effect on both James and Fiona. Her dusky skin shone in the subtle light in the room. The old-fashioned gas lamps had yet to be replaced mainly because James preferred the soft light to the harshness of some of the new ones. He felt there was a time and place for such lighting, but in the bedroom, the glow and flickering gaslights were more conducive to the type of activities he enjoyed.

Since he was already nearly naked from getting his injuries dealt with, Rakell slipped onto the bed from the base and slowly rubbed her body along James’ uninjured side until she reached her target. There she demonstrated something he knew she hadn’t learned in proper society. For a medical doctor, she certainly knew which buttons to push, or lick as the case may be!

Fiona wasn’t naked, but that didn’t take long to repair. She was pure English stock with alabaster skin, dark hair, and a willingness to do anything Rakell suggested. James wasn’t sure of the relationship between the doctor and her nurse but was thoroughly enjoying being part of it. Once he was at a full extension, Fiona straddled his lap, being incredibly careful of his leg. He slipped inside her wet warmth and she slowly rode him.

The feeling was different due to his new ‘pieces and parts’, but he was coming to get used to it and like it as much. What he was also enjoying was his staying power. He thought Fi was enjoying it as well. Dr. Rakell knelt next to her and the sight of her darker hands on Fiona’s white skin was better than any aphrodisiac James had ever heard of, including oysters!

Unfortunately, he was still somewhat limited on his bedroom activities. He mused, ‘Maybe having a doctor as a lover wasn’t the best thing.’ Every time he tried something, she would push him back down and give him a look reminiscent of his mother when she knew he was trying to get away with something.

The doctor didn’t spend the weekend, she left Saturday morning and mentioned she was heading to the Palace. Fiona did stay and did her best to limit his activities to give the leg more time to heal. Monday morning found him hard at work inventorying QED’s newest toys and planning some real-world testing.

He decided to start with the CABs since he could think of several times such an explosive would have been beneficial. He also took the time to get some practice with the new weapons, including something QED called his Long-Distance Compressed Air Killer. His LDCAK was too bulky to conceal and fired a tiny projectile, but its range was as impressive as its accuracy. James also tried to think of a new name, LDCAK being a bit cumbersome as well.

The narrow shape of the projectile and the impressive compression driving it gave you a range of nearly half a mile and the force to penetrate even light armor. The velocity was just astounding, with an incredible accuracy that impressed James. Because it was small and quite aerodynamically shaped, there was minimal air resistance.

To test both, he took several cabs, set them up at various ranges, and used the LDCAK to shoot at them. At close range, the projectile was devastating. It pierced the shell and made the cab explode easily. Even at the furthest distance, it took an accurate strike near the center to make it explode. Any other hit just spun it off the stand. He tried several other methods to cause it to detonate and found himself admitting that QED got things right.

It was much safer than even standard grenades and much, much safer than his mercury grenades. The flint wheel made it even easier to use, instead of needing a rough surface to ignite the standard ones. He did suggest for QED to make a pouch for carrying a string of them like a bandolier and to make the pouches of strong material to offer an extra layer of protection.

Each night he went home to the ministrations of lovely Fiona, with the doctor visiting every couple of days. Thursday, Rakell even spent the night with them. James will never get enough of seeing the two ladies making love with each other. It was obvious that while Fiona liked him but there was no doubt she was in love with Rakell, who certainly reciprocated her feelings. James didn’t mind! He knew many who would, but not him!

Late that night something woke James. He was alone in bed and heard a small sound toward the kitchen. He assumed the ladies needed something and was about to fall back to sleep when another noise from a different part of the house caught his ear. He tried to leap from bed noiselessly, but his bad leg almost gave way. He stood across from his open bedroom door and could see partly down the hall from the reflection from a glass-covered cabinet. The shape of the hallway was different, a tall shadow narrowed it strangely. As he tried to puzzle it out, Fiona came out of the kitchen. The shadow lunged and she went down. In the dim light, James realized what he was looking at.

He grabbed something from the top of his wardrobe and watched the shadow in the hall. Rakell came partly out of the kitchen and when she saw Fiona on the floor went to move to her with a cry. The shadow turned toward her; James moved quickly. As he passed the shadow, he tossed something, then grabbed Rakell, forcing her back into the kitchen. They fell and rolled across the floor; James ended up on top of her when there was a loud muffled thump from the hall.

James got up and stopped Rakell from rushing out. “Fi’s already dead. The golem got her first.”

“A golem?”

Yes, a mechanical monstrosity. It operates on stored up spring power. It’s got a basic program to perform a specific task. My guess is it was sent in here to kill me, but it wouldn’t be able to differentiate between people, so it would kill anyone who moved. Lovely Fiona was simply the first target. It would have killed you next if you took a further step.”

Rakell looked shocked, then recovered partly. She was a doctor but rarely had to deal with such realities. “How did you kill it?”

“A small device from the Third Level, something designed to explode without the typical aftereffects of an explosive.”

“Fi was already dead before your — device?”

“Oh yes, such golems are quite deadly. I just saw the strike, she probably never felt it. I didn’t know there were any in England, let alone in my own home. Someone knows much too much about me. Get dressed, we need to leave quickly.”

Rakell paused over Fiona shaking her head and James saw tears and recognized her courage to not dwell. She and James dressed and left through a small door on the side of his home, one well disguised from outside. James held a small pistol and a standard grenade, all he needed was a rough stone to use to ignite it. He hoped to not need either one because of the attention they would draw. He saw Rakell was also armed, only she had one of the new compressed air pistols. He did wonder why a doctor was carrying a weapon and thought about swapping with her but decided those questions could wait. She carried it with a comfortable casualness. He was glad because if she fired it, her pistol would make considerably less noise than his.