Chemistry, Chaos & Steam: A Magistery of Dunces

Steam Girl

"I liked what you called Victoria Castillo by the way, what was it, 'Steam Girl?'"

"Yes, it resonates well."

"I should think so. Probably be the lead headline in The Oakland Times tomorrow."

"Probably?"

Sipher smiled.

"How in the world could you know that?"

"Must have heard it somewhere," Sipher answered cryptically.

Clarkson knew it was useless to press further. Xavier Sipher only gave what he wanted to give. But he'd earned the right to be mysterious.

"And what do you think of our Confederation's newest treasure?" asked Clarkson.

"Oh, she's a bright one," Sipher said pleasantly. "His Tenuredship is quite taken with her."

"It must have been embarrassing for him to discover that his chauffer was a thief."

"Oh, he knew about the pilfering. It's how most old style families operate. They never pay the servants enough but it's understood that the servants will supplement their income. Plus, it gives the families that hire them another hold on their service. As long as they're not greedy and don't get caught, it works well enough."

"But The Tenured's chauffer did get caught," said Clarkson.

"Indeed, in a most public way at that. The poor fellow will have to be let go. I'm afraid Miss Castillo, for all her obvious intelligence, does not know how the world works."

"That's not the only thing," said Clarkson.

Sipher's left brow arched once again but he remained silent, the only sound heard was that of their feet and the rhythmic tapping of the under-secretary's walking stick along the cobble stones. "I couldn't get a copy of Miss Castillo's test," Clarkson said.

"I should think not," chuckled Sipher. "That particular document has been classified. I believe the graders have been cautioned about even admitting they graded it let alone talk about it to others."

"Yes," agreed Clarkson, "this year's test."

Xavier Sipher stopped walking and spent a moment pondering the form of James Clarkson. But then the tall, thin man smiled and continued his relaxing stroll, confident that the reporter would follow. "I must not be surprised when a man I enjoy talking with because he is clever demonstrates that cleverness in unexpected ways. Is it safe to assume you got copies."

Clarkson nodded

"That is quite illegal, Mr. Clarkson."

"Not nearly as illegal as cheating on the Grand Exam," he retorted.

"You're convinced then?"

Clarkson nodded.

"Even given how well she demonstrated her unusual intelligence tonight?"

"Clarkson nodded once again. "She did not not try on her first two attempts, she failed them."

"That is quite a serious accusation, Mr. Clarkson."

"I'm convinced if I showed them to experts over at Berkley University they'd confirm my hunch. Besides, I saw her reaction to my questioning. She's a little girl with a big secret. I'd bet my career on it."

"You may be correct, Mr. Clarkson, but might I suggest that you investigate this story," Sipher paused, obviously considering his next word, "gently."

"You want me to go easy on her because she's a child, or because she's a Castillo?"

"I'm not asking you to stop your investigation. Tampering with the Grand Exam is a plank-walking offense at the very least. But have you considered that the girl may actually be innocent?"

"If she is, it'll come out in the investigation," the reporter said with conviction.

Sipher allowed a half smile. "I, of course, know nothing of a reporter's stock in trade. I am foolish enough that if I were investigating anything, I'd look into that disturbance at that orphanage in Richmond."

Now it was Clarkson's turn to chuckle. "I should give up pursuing a story involving the Castillo clan, Steam Girl, and a cheating scandal on Grand Exam day to look into a minor riot at an orphanage across the Bay?" I don't..."

"I may," interrupted Sipher, "be able to get you a press pass for the Crimson Cloud flight to the Magistery of Chemistry and Steam."

Now it was Clarkson's turn to stop and pause. The Crimson Cloud was the name of the Zeppelin that carried The Magistery of Chemistry and Steam's newest class of freshman over to the island of Alcatraz. It was a yearly press spectacle. The children and their families would gather at the San Francisco International Zeppelin Port. The dirigible would descend from the sky to much applause. It would then be loaded up with supplies and luggage, while the elite of the city came to see and be seen. After the appropriate speeches and the usual spectacle of families hugging goodbye to children who'd never really be a part of their lives again, the Zeppelin would drift off majestically into the sky and circle the around the Bay Area Confederation's main population centers, high enough to be seen by all the citizens. Clarkson had been trying for years to get a press pass but, he suspected, due to the upper class' hatred of him, they'd used their influence and deep pockets to keep him off the storied vessel.

"It leaves in two days," he said, "Can you guarantee me a pass in that time?"

Sipher merely smiled.

"I suppose, then," quipped Clarkson, "I should have a look at that orphanage."

"What an excellent idea," agreed Sipher.

The unmistakable sound of an approaching steamer caught both their attention.

"Oh how fortuitous," said the under-secretary, "it appears to be my motorcar." And indeed as if by magic, a well-maintained but fairly nondescript mid-sized steamer pulled right up beside them. A driver stepped out, rushed around the car and opened the passenger side door.

Sipher looked over to the young reporter. "Can I offer you a ride to a place of your choosing, Mr. Clarkson?"

"No thank you, Mr. Under-Secretary. I could use the exercise." Then Clarkson recognized the driver. "Isn't that the Tenuredship's chauffer?"

"Ah yes, the Tenured was needing a new driver and I offered him the services of mine until he could find his own replacement, that is. But I fear that Xing is such an excellent driver that I will never see him again. So I decided to employ this gentleman who readily agreed to the contract. I'm afraid I don't pay quite as well as the Tenure, but his job will not be without its other rewards."

James Clarkson nodded at the man and marveled at the fact that Sipher had, in one move, hired a man who'd be loyal (as no one else would hire him) and placed another as the driver of the most powerful person in the Confederacy. But if Clarkson had brought that up the Under-Secretary would merely have looked at him blankly. So Clarkson waved and began to think about his trip to the Richmond Orphanage for Boys the following morning.

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The plot thickens! Also, no questions this week - brain hurts!