Another Arrival

May 9, 1889
Paris, France

Ange Dumont found the steam-powered carriage, or "horseless coach", to be an impressive marvel to behold, with its unique combination of sounds, smells, appearance, and... motion. Never mind the fact that it was often a bumpy and jarring experience and he felt a little cramped due to his height.

This particular coach had been commissioned by The Order of the Moon and recently finished.

Its bulky boiler was mounted under the engineer's seat. Pipes and valves ran in and out of it, along the cab which was crafted of fine Valencian Cypress wood, with large wheels and a boxy form over a steel frame. A roof extended over the carriage to protect passengers and upholstery from the elements. It was a heavy vehicle, but its designers made sure to spare weight wherever possible whilst maintaining safety.

To accommodate the boiler and other machinery, the engineer's seat jutted out past the front wheels and was partially hidden by skirts. The engine was fed by small coal briquettes and the boiler was filled with water which could be refilled from a reserve cache collected from rainwater or excess steam runoff. All of the machinery was conveniently located in the front to do the pulling of its haul, like a horse. Located here it was easily accessible to the engineer in case of trouble.

The engineer controlled steering with two levers one on either side of the seat, that were greased and swung easily in opposite directions. There was a locking mechanism for straightaways and when the levers were otherwise disengaged. To make a left turn, the engineer would pull slightly back on the left and push forward with the right, and vice versa. Also mounted on its deck were several other such controls to regulate the engine and gauges to monitor the heat and water level. An engineer also had a whistle to signal to other vehicles or pedestrians.

Two steam exhaust chimneys bedecked the cab which was painted dark brown and lacquered to shine. The corners were adorned with brass piping and fittings, some of which fed through to the interior of the cab to create a heated flooring in the colder months. Passengers could turn off the interior heat by closing a couple of valves.

The sound of a steam-powered carriage was loud and distinctive. The constant puff puff, the sudden hiss of steam escaping from the boiler upon braking, the chugging pistons, clanking and grinding of machinery created a cacophony of noise. It was rhythmic and steady as it rolled along the roads, with occasional bursts of louder noise as the carriage moved up hills or over rough terrain. Most of this noise was muffled by the cushioned upholstery of the inner cab.

~~~

The horseless carriage trundled along to his destination. The residence of one Lady Elizabeth Ellington, daughter of his employer, and leader of the new team, which he hoped would fair better than the last.

Dumont slid open the window next to his seat and let some air in. He then called to the engineer, "Mon Petite!" There was no response... "Gemma!" he shouted again and tapped on the glass behind her.

Gemma was a young gnomish engineer and machinist from London who worked for the Order.

She turned at the clack and then swung over a floral shaped, brass receiver and spoke into it. Suddenly, the dwarf's teasing voice piped in through a similar trumpet in the cabin.

"Oui, Monsieur Dumont?" she laughed at the silly formality, for the two of them had known one another for some time and were on a first name basis. Well, they were on a "name" basis. Generally people addressed Ange by his mother's surname "Dumont", but Gemma had taken to calling him "Mon Grande". In return he had dubbed her, Mon Petite.

Dumont looked at the funny trumpet-like thing and leaned in toward it.

"Did I forge' to tell ye abou' the talkie? Sorrrrrry." she sang with a grimace. "Ye can talk into tha' piece and I can hear ye."

"Another clever contraption." he chuckled mirthfully. Gemma and her team of engineers were always on to some new clever invention. "How fast does she go?" he asked.

"Why? Ye in an 'urry?"

"Oui." he said loudly with a smile.

She joked, "Had enough of me have ye?"

"Of course not." he said.

The woman smiled. "This li'le girl can go abou' as fast as an 'orse can cantor. Too fast for some. I've not been able to test her ou'."

"Impressive." he commented. It sounded dangerous. Much of it was.

They streets were full of people as they passed close to the Seine and the Exposition grounds. Dumont could see the Eiffel Tower was finally finished and open to the public. He had not been back home for several months and now the feeling of home was stirring within. Continuing into a more historic and wealthy residential area, they passed Saint Germaine and close to his Grandmother's estate. He would be sure to stop there for a quick visit before he was off again.

Finally, the "orseless", as Gemma called it, pulled up to a large plot of land with a long drive and beautiful gardens. They reached the cul-de-sac near the guest entrance and, with a squeal, the coach came to a jarring stop.

"Oh! Gonna af'ta grease tha'." Gemma winced.

She hopped down from her driver's deck and around to the door where she opened it for Dumont who smiled. He stepped down from the side rail and into the drive and stretched out his bones. The scent of burning coal wafted in the air and the boiler quietly hissed as it calmed down. Gemma went to the back to grab Dumont's small traveling case.

"Merci, Mon Petite." he said to her as he took his belongings.

"Voila! Now off with ye." she kicked a stubby foot at him and ran a hand through her red-gold hair. "My regards ta the team."

"Ciao." he said.

"Ciao ciao, Mon Grand." she winked with a hearty laugh and they parted, both smiling and shaking their heads in self amusing.

When he reached the guest door, Dumont rang the bell and a butler answered with a rather confused expression.

"May I inquire your name, sir? Uh... Qui appelle, Monsieur?" asked the butler, who looked to be in his early thirties.

"Ah. Bonjour. Je m'appelle Dumont." he handed the butler a calling card with his name in calligraphic style. "I am here to see Lady Ellington." he replied.

"Mr. Dumont. A pleasure, sir. Welcome. Come come. Let me take your luggage." said the butler, ushering him inside.

Dumont nodded as he entered the foyer as the butler took his case and closed the door.

"I'm afraid the Lady is out at the moment but she should be arriving back shortly."

"I see."

"Yes. Out on business with a Mr. Sung Shun Shi."

"Oui, I'm to meet with him as well."

"Let me show you into the parlor where you can have a rest. I shall bring you some refreshment."

Off went the young man-servant after showing him to one of many plush chairs and he soon returned with tea.

"Here you are, sir. If your require anything at all I shall be just outside the door." he said as he poured a cup for Dumont.

"What is your name, sir?" asked Dumont.

"My name is Harvey, sir."

"Thank you, Harvey." Dumont replied.