by

H.Y. Hill

The first time I met Lord Clarke was in the spring of 1878, four years before the event known as ‘The Silence.’ I met him at his workshop on Gayfere Street in London. Lord Clarke was a man in his mid-fifties. His hair was short and white as was his beard and moustache. He was a pale man who looked like he had never seen the sun in years. Heavy wrinkles plagued his face.

Lord Clarke was the son of another Lord Clarke. He inherited his father’s seat in the House of Lords but he made a name for himself as one of the most skilful and most respected engineers in the empire. When the Big Ben clock tower was being built, Lord Clarke was one of its chief engineers. His workshop mirrored his love for engineering. Strange metallic contraptions were scattered in a mess throughout the one-roomed mechanical wonderland.

My meeting with Lord Clarke was the result of my investigation into the murder of Lord Jameson, a judge in the House of Lords. At the murder scene, I found a peculiar contraption. It was small, metallic and in the shape of the letter ‘U.’ On one side at one of its ends, the contraption was attached to a half sphere the size of a peanut. I questioned Lord Jameson’s family and friends. None of them knew what the contraption was, nor had they seen it.

The case remained a mystery and so did the contraption. However, a few weeks later, I arrested a man for theft. I noticed that he wore the same contraption on his right ear. I took it off him and asked him what it was and where he’d got it. However, he kept quiet. His eyes squinted as I said the words. Eventually, he spoke at a very loud voice, telling me that he couldn’t hear a word I had said and that he needed the contraption to hear.

I placed the contraption by my ear with the half sphere pointing towards me. Peculiar enough, the sounds of the streets were magnified. After questioning, the arrested thief told me that he bought the contraption, called a ‘hearing aid,’ from a man named Percy Smith.

Percy Edmund Smith had two previous convictions for rape and three for burglary. The last of these offences was five years ago. Ever since then, Mr Smith had lived a clean life, running a carriage repair workshop. He was more helpful than I thought he would be. Mr Smith told me that he didn’t know the workings of the contraption. He sells them on behalf of Lord Clarke. I asked him if he had a list of customers. He replied that the list was with the engineer.

That was how I ended up at Lord Clarke’s workshop. We went through the required pleasantries. Lord Clarke was shocked when he heard about Lord Jameson’s murder. He did not know that one of his House of Lords peers had been killed, even though the news was abuzz with the papers. “I’m afraid I don’t read the newspapers anymore,” he had said, “and I am no longer welcomed in Parliament.”

“Why not? About the Parliament.” From the misplaced tools and scattered machines in his crowded workshop, one needn’t wonder why the good lord didn’t read the newspapers.

Lord Clarke’s eyes squinted as he stared at me, confused, from his workbench. I stood at the edge of his nuts, bolt, screws and a myriad of junk filled desk. “You might be too young to remember. How old are you, inspector? In your late twenties?”

“Twenty-seven, sir.”

He nodded pensively. “You would be three years old, I think, when it all happened.” He reached for a standing picture frame on his desk, stared at it with sad eyes and handed it to me. It was a photograph of a young woman. She looked beautiful with a slender figure and blonde hair. It was an old photograph. The colours were fading. “My wife, Annabelle.”

I gazed upon Lord Clarke’s face. His eyes stared blankly at the frame I held. His lips curved downwards into a mope and his shoulders sank. “Tragedy befell her?”

“Indeed.” His eyes looked at my face. There were tears within them and those tears seemed to be magnifying a long, buried sorrow that had crawled its way to the surface. “Wrongly accused of being a German spy.”

“Wrongly accused?”

Lord Clarke nodded. “Annabelle was German. Her aunt on her mother’s side was married to a certain chancellor named von Bismarck, the most powerful man in Prussia, or Germany as it’s called now. Back then, the British government was quite phobic about Prussia’s growing influence on the continent. Then a sensitive document was stolen from Westminster Abbey. Who else do they blame but the most German person probable?”

“What happened?” The story of his wife didn’t truly interest me. However, I didn’t want to wrong Lord Clarke. I still needed to know about the hearing aid and those who had bought it. So, I humoured him.

“When we married, Annabelle insisted on keeping her maiden name. She thought the name Annabelle von Hamm-Clarke sounded better. ‘Von.’” Lord Clarke sneered. “The prejudice against her was so high. They hanged her, publicly, like… like she was a common criminal. I pleaded to the judges and to Queen Victoria herself, but Her Majesty didn’t want to overrule the court’s decision. Chancellor von Bismarck was incensed. Days after the hanging, the missing document was found. The clerk had misplaced it in the wrong folder. You can imagine how I felt, can’t you? They apologized profusely, but… Annabelle was still dead.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. She looks lovely.” I returned the picture frame to him.

“More than just her face.” Lord Clarke stared at the portrait, nostalgia in his eyes. “She was a true angel among humans. The worst part was that after she died, the coroner discovered that she was pregnant. I lost… I lost more than just a wife. But the world lost a great scientist.”

“Sir?”

“Annabelle was an expert in the study of sound, a true genius with a celestial heart. Her works were truly ground-breaking. They piqued my own curiosity as to the practical applications of sound. Luckily for me, Annabelle left substantial notes that became my reference. Come, let me show you a machine that’s currently occupying my time.”

Lord Clarke stood from his chair and led me to another part of the warehouse. There was a shelf with many drawers against the wall. The engineer opened each drawer in search of the machine. I stared at the wall. Lord Clarke had hung many photographs of himself in many distinguished companies. I recognized one with Queen Victoria herself. There was also a photograph of Lord Clarke with Tsar Alexander II of Russia and another with King Francis Joseph I of Bohemia. His claim that his wife was related by marriage to Chancellor von Bismarck gained credence with what I assumed to be a photograph of Lady Annabelle’s extended family, where Chancellor von Bismarck sat in the middle and Lord Clarke stood behind him. Also on the wall, in a section of its own, I counted thirty-seven photographs of Lady Annabelle von Hamm-Clarke. Unlike the photographs with the distinguished figures, Annabelle’s photograph frames had no dusts.

“I take it that you have travelled to Germany?” I thought it best to avoid the subject of his wife.

Lord Clarke paused his search and stared pensively at me. “Oh, yes. Many times. I often visit my family in Berlin.”

“Your family, sir?”

“My mother was from Prussia.”

“Your mother and your wife are from Germany?”

Lord Clarke smiled. “I’m as German as Queen Victoria.” He chuckled.

I forced myself to smile at his poor attempt at a joke. In public, a joke like that would be inappropriate. Tensions were strong between Britain and Germany. Both nations were glancing greedily at the other’s colonies in Africa.

The old engineer continued to rummage through his drawers. “Sir, you needn’t do that. I came here to ask you about a ‘hearing aid’ that I found in one of my investigations.” I produced the contraption.

Lord Clarke stared at it. His eyebrows arched and the wrinkles on his forehead became more prominent. “Ah, of course. That explains why an inspector would visit me. You found this at Lord Jameson’s murder scene, yes?” He reached for the hearing aid.

“Yes, sir. I traced it to a Percy Smith, who told me that he sells this on your behalf.”

“Mr Smith tells it true. I take it that you suspect the wearer of this hearing aid to be your murderer? You want my list of clients?”

“Exactly, sir.”

“Very well. However, I cannot permit you to leave with the only copy of the list. I have a pen and some paper. You may copy the list if you wish.”

“Thank you, sir. But before you produce the list, this object amuses me. How does it louden sound?”

Lord Clarke smiled. “I would never have invented this… wondrous thing if it hadn’t been for Annabelle. She had always wanted to help the deaf and the hard-of-hearing. I invented this in her memory. It works marvellously. You see, inspector, sound travels through vibrations. The air carries those vibrations. This ‘hearing aid,’ as it’s been called, receives those sound vibrations,” he pointed at the side opposite the half sphere, “ and magnifies them.” He pointed at the half sphere. “The mechanics are too technical. I won’t bore you.”

For the rest of the visit, I copied the list of Lord Clarke’s clients. The names on it ranged from the important to the unknown. A few of the names amongst the important people were known rivals or enemies of Lord Jameson. Nonetheless, my investigation reached a dead end.

I didn’t see Lord Clarke again for four years. On Monday, 19^th June 1882, a two day period now known as ‘The Silence’ began. I remembered that day vividly. I was shaving that morning. The window of my flat’s bathroom was opened, bringing in the sounds of Walworth Road. The paperboy shouted the day’s headlines amidst the clacking of horses’ hooves and the chatter in the market on East Street.

As I was shaving, I was startled by a touch on my right shoulder. The razor cut my left cheek. My wife had entered the bathroom. She didn’t make a sound. Usually, she would either shout from whichever room she was in or she would knock on the door. It was very unlike her not to do so. Sarah looked concerned and confused. I saw her lips moving but I didn’t hear a single sound.

“What’s wrong?” I asked her, or at least I thought I did. My own voice didn’t reach my ears. I tried to say something but my voice was inaudible. It was then that I realized that Walworth Road was uncharacteristically quiet. I put my head out of the window. The paperboy was shouting. The mouths of the people on Walworth Road and East Street were moving. The horses’ hooves marched on the road. However, they were all silent.

I turned to face my wife, who was still in the bathroom. She handed to me the morning’s newspaper. Even my confusion was confused. We subscribed to The London Times, not ‘Rhf Birexv Hmdop.’ But it wasn’t just the newspaper’s name. The front and subsequent pages had no words. Instead, they were filled with letters that were randomly put together.

I brushed past my wife and into my study. I grabbed a pen and a piece of paper and started to write my own name. Instead, I wrote ‘Ndnos.’ I tried again with Sarah’s name but the gibberish on the paper was ‘Utchd.’

Confused, deaf, mute and illiterate, I left my flat for work. The moment I stepped out of the front door, I saw the paperboy involved in a soundless and angry shouting match with an elderly gentleman. As I was about to hail a cab, the elderly gentleman slapped the paperboy, who fell, and proceeded to trample him. I went to the paperboy’s rescue by pulling the elderly gentleman away. He shoved me and started screaming at me, but his words were muted. He left me and walked for East Street.

I gazed in that direction. East Street was the venue for many silent shouting contests. Vendors and shoppers screamed at each other quietly. The building at the corner of East Street and Walworth Road was Gregg’s Bakery, but the sign above the door was gibberish. That meant that the price tags in the market were gibberish too. From the looks of it, it wouldn’t be long before the shouts spiraled into violence.

Luckily, the cab I hailed had waited for me. Sadly, I wasn’t able to tell the cabman my destination. I couldn’t even write it down. Instead, I sat in the front of the litter and indicated to the cabman the direction to Scotland Yard by pointing my finger.

The silence remained as we went further from my flat. It was unnerving. As we passed Westminster Bridge, the cab couldn’t go any further. Two litters had crashed and the road was blocked. We tried a different road but that way led to a brawl between four men, two of them were uniformed constables. I got off the litter to diffuse the situation. Instead, my presence escalated the brawl. Four became ten and ten became thirty and eventually, the whole street was a riot.

My duty as a policeman was to uphold public order. I managed to round up several uniformed constables to assist me. However, as the day continued, the public fell into soundless pandemonium. In abundance were affrays, which brought acts of criminal damage along with them. Criminal damage to buildings resulted in lootings. Buildings and goods weren’t the only ones to be violated. In less open areas, I tried to stop women from being raped any further.

When sound had abandoned us, we couldn’t communicate. I couldn’t hear the women screaming for help. My warnings didn’t reach my fellow policemen’s ears, which led to many of them unable to react to an attack to which they couldn’t see. Upholding public order was impossible. To subdue the violence, we policemen were forced to use violence. By night, London became a battlefield between the citizens and the police. Uniformed soldiers had also joined the fight. Thankfully, they were on our side.

That night, silence was indeed golden. Several buildings glowed bright orange as fires consumed the walls. The silent riots continued into the morning.

In late afternoon, I managed to hide myself. Even though I was tired, wounded and sleepy, I dared not allow my heavy eyes to shut themselves. Usually, silence provided the perfect mood to sleep. However, fear and violence ruined that mood.

As I was drifting between sleep and wakefulness, I remembered something my father had once told me, “If you want to see far, you need to climb higher.” Something must have started this silence. My flat was on Walworth Road, which was quite far from Westminster. Hence, I surmised, that the silence must have been caused from a high place, and the highest place in the centre of London was Big Ben. I made my way there through the violence-filled roads and climbed to the top of the clock tower.

My hunch was correct. To my surprise, I found an elderly man with short white hair with an equally short and equally white beard and moustache. It took me several seconds before I recognized Lord Clarke. The elderly engineer sat on a wooden lawn chair. He was smiling as his eyes absorbed the view of the chaos below through the glass window that was a part of the clock. The sight of Lord Clarke splashed cold water of realization onto my face. The man was an engineer whose wife was one of the leading experts on the science of sound. Furthermore, he was one of the engineers who built this clock tower.

Immediately, I subdued Lord Clarke and handcuffed his hands to the railing by the window. However, I wasn’t able to question him. Lord Clarke merely laughed a silent laugh. On the floor, I spotted a photograph frame with its back facing the top. I reached for it and saw a photograph of Lady Annabelle, the same photograph that was on Lord Clarke’s desk.

I searched the inner workings of Big Ben for a device that I suspected Lord Clarke had planted. However, to my untrained eyes, every part of Big Ben looked like a possible sound-eradicating device. At least a needle looked different than the hays in the stack. I had thought about calling some of the constables to help me but they were needed in the streets. It was dusk when I found the device. Lord Clarke had planted it high up in the clock tower. It was a small box that was attached to a long, metal pole that went through the ceiling. I deduced that it must be connected to the metallic tip of Big Ben. There were no buttons or levers on the device. I forced it open and pulled the wires out. As sudden as a gunshot, the sounds returned.

To my surprise, Lord Clarke hadn’t moved. I had expected him to attempt an escape. The railings hadn’t been scraped by the handcuffs.

I stared out of the window. Roars of gunfire filled the air. I could hear shouts and screams. The riots continued, even though the sounds were back. The people on the streets looked like a swarm of warring ants.

I decided that it was safer inside Big Ben. I cautioned Lord Clarke as was required by procedure before arrest. Then, I cautioned him again as protocol dictated before questioning.

“You don’t have to follow the procedure. You can conduct the proper interview at the police station later. I’ll give the same answer there as I will here.” He squinted his eyes as he studied my face. “You were the inspector who came to me four years ago, weren’t you? The one who asked me about the hearing aid? Lord Jameson’s murder?”

I nodded.

“You didn’t solve it, did you?”

I shook my head.

Lord Clarke chuckled. “I can give you the name of the murderer, but Percy Smith was just a hireling.”

I felt my jaw drop and my eyes widen. The evidence I had collected did not point to Percy Smith as the culprit.

The elderly engineer grinned, showing his autumn leaf yellow teeth. “Lord Thomas Jameson of Durham was one of the nine judges that sent my Annabelle to the gallows. He was also the very man who accused Annabelle of stealing that document.”

“Why did Lord Jameson do that? Was it a sinister motive?”

Lord Clarke shrugged. “I don’t care.”

“You had your vengeance. But why… all this?”

“I had my vengeance only on Jameson. Queen Victoria refused to listen to my appeal. Prince Albert pushed for my expulsion from the House of Lords. The people of London insulted my wife at the gallows and they cheered. They cheered the death of my wife and unborn child.”

“But didn’t they apologize? You were reinstated into the House of Lords.”

“They did apologize. Annabelle is still dead.”

“Your vengeance harmed many innocents.”

“Miscarriage of justice killed my innocent child.”

I shook my head. “Your vengeance is disproportionate.”

“I like to think of it as ingenious. For two days, I silenced the whole of Greater London and as far as I know, the other cities are still quiet.”

“The other cities?” That revelation shocked me. A pandemonium of such a scale would plunge the empire onto its knees.

The elderly engineer nodded. “Did you notice that some of the rioters wore my hearing aid? They weren’t affected by the silence.”

“You hired rioters?”

Lord Clarke shook his head. “They were Otto’s men, actually. I directed them. A spark is needed to start a fire and the fire was beautiful.”

“This is all very incriminating. A crime of this magnitude will result in a hanging.”

The elderly engineer smiled. “And be brought closer to my Annabelle? Why not?”

A smile forced itself onto my lips. It faded as fast as it appeared. Despite his vengeful desires, Lord Clarke’s heart remained loyally in love with his wife. “One thing still puzzles me, sir. Why didn’t you run? You had ample time to escape.”

“Why should I run? I want to enjoy seeing London burn just like its people enjoyed watching my Annabelle die. This is my masterpiece, inspector. An artist wouldn’t leave the unveiling of his greatest work.” Lord Clarke laughed. “Otto had told me to run as well.”

“Otto? Is he your accomplice?”

“He could be categorized as such. He financed my work. His army should strike soon. The soldiers have been on these isles for weeks now. I wonder what activities they’ve been up to? Sabotage, probably, and lots of it.”

“Army? Why does your financier have an army?”

Lord Clarke’s eyebrows arched in confusion. “Why wouldn’t he? He’s the Chancellor of the German Empire.”

Contact:
Jeff Mach Tel: 201-724-7687
Email: jeffmach@wickedfaire.com

Steampunk Festival Fears Mother Nature
Steampunk World’s Fair takes unusual step to keep inclement weather from raining on parade

This May, the Steampunk World’s Fair will hit Piscataway, New Jersey with three days of the largest steampunk festival in the country – last year’s fair garnered about 3000 guests in total. With a nation of steampunks fondly reminiscing on the jam-packed events of the 2011 event and expectations just as high this year, any inclement weather could only result in soggy sadness. But this year, Mother Nature will not stand in the way. In preparation for unwanted precipitation, the event has specifically planned a special set of programs to take place in the rain.

This solution may be unusual, but The Steampunk World’s Fair is used to travelling unorthodox routes. Three years ago, it was among the very first of Steampunk events to approach Steampunk gatherings from a festival, rather than a convention, standpoint. The performance-heavy event focuses on creating the boisterous, exuberant atmosphere of a carnival or faire, rather than the calmer atmosphere of a convention. Says event creator, Jeff Mach, “rather than a situation where, if it rains, we just ‘make do,’ we’re going to actually have activities and programs which will blow your socks off!” It will take a grand amount of planning to get the rain program on its feet, but organizers are excited about its potential, urging guests to “Hope for rain!”

Of course, if it doesn’t end up raining at the fair, there will be plenty of delightful activities for guests to revel in. In addition to the largest array of Steampunk performances available anywhere, festivals of the past have featured everything from Why Not Cake, an imaginative company of gourmet cake artists; to visits from award-winning author Leanna Renee Hieber. So stick an umbrella in your top hat, because the Steampunk World’s Fair promises imaginative entertainment, rain or shine.

The creators of Steampunk World’s Fair are also notable for their annual Wicked Winter Renaissance Faire and Geeky Kink Event. More information on The Steampunk World’s Fair can be found at steampunkworldsfair.com

St. John Murphy Alexander is an explorer robot who is sent out to survey the countryside and report back to his regiment with his findings. What makes this foot soldier so amiable is his natural childlike curiosity and willingness to get dirty in the process. And like all automatons, he must follow a strict daily maintenance routine like taking himself apart for cleaning just before his well deserved night of rest – and dreams of more adventures.

The illustrations are backed by a soft sepia tone while images of St. John Murphy Alexander and other robots are in subtle shades of sketched grey. With a delicate hand, Petty also uses brighter colors to bring focus to little details as well as a few of the interesting things the robot encounters. This unique use of contrasting colors allows the reader to appreciate the gentleness of the robots while highlighting the wonder of the world around them.

As a bonus near the end of the book, a whimsical poem introduces the tiny character Steamduck, an automaton version of a rubber duck. Though not as active as the explorer, the cuteness alone gives the little fellow enough charisma to entice young readers to want more. And if that isn’t enough, the “Seek and Find” page will encourage kids to go back through the book in search of items and allow them to relive the experience over and over.

As an introduction to Steampunk, children will get their gears turning with excitement towards literature and their cogs will clank with anticipation for more. Her Majesty’s Explorer: a Steampunk bedtime story is a cohesive collaboration between Emilie P. Bush and William Kevin Petty, weaving magical words and images together to make delightfully memorable Steampunk story. One would be hard pressed to find a more enjoyable way to open young minds to literature and Steampunk than through this charming story.

http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/day304/dirigible-days-season-one

It’s also an easy trade to get discouraged in.  Hearing “no” often will make the apprentice salesman want to give up, go home, and stop such foolishness.  As an Artisan, you cannot afford to let the word “no” stop you from trying again and making a sale.  After all, without those sales, you have no income, no projects, and no reason for making your art in the first place.

The most important part of making a sale as an Artisan is to be confident.  Confident in yourself, and confident in your work.  If a customer walks up to you and you appear nervous, either about being at the event or about your product, they will question your product’s quality.  If the artist is so nervous, will the product really be worth the price I’m paying?  The customer may move on to a more confident artisan, one that they see knows the quality of their own work and sells it for a price equal to their quality (you’re using Artisan Math right?  You better be!).

You have a major advantage over the average salesperson: you actually made the product you’re selling.  That means you know exactly what you put into it for time, materials, and energy.  You know if it is high quality work, or if it was done on the cheap and on the fly.  Most salespeople only receive a briefing or a training class and must rely upon the people or machines that created the product to hold up to the standard they project for the product they sell.

So the real question is: how much confidence do you have in your own work?  If you have great confidence, you will be able to sell your product well, make a decisive sales pitch, and bring your customer closer to opening their wallet than they may have otherwise.

And don’t you dare say that isn’t your goal!  Artisans don’t have the luxury to be reliant upon their desire to just have their art out in the world to make a living; after all, hopes and dreams do not pay the bills, do not buy food.  Steel yourself to do something that most Artists detest on principle; be ready to sell your product to your customer by showing them you have the best quality for the price.  Do not feel bad about trying to sell your products to people that have limited means; after all, if they can’t afford it, they won’t buy it.  But when someone that can afford it comes along, you must be able to convince them they want the product, need the product for their persona, home, or effects, because that is how you make a living as an Artisan.

There are plenty of books on how to become a good salesman; I recommend “Selling You” by Napoleon Hill and “Little Red Book of Selling” by Jeffrey Gitomer.  They are the ones that taught me; now go learn from the masters of their trade.

Trieste at that time was the main port of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, a melting pot of cultures coming from all the corners of the Empire. In some aspects it was one of the most advanced technological centers: since 1818 the first steamship served the line from Trieste to Venice and in 1819 the first industrial steam engine was built in Trieste, which fed all the port infrastructures.

The latter was an impressive hydrodynamic system which furnished, through a series of steam machines, the energy needed to change the pressure of the hydrodynamic system; it was able to feed one hundred cranes and fifty lifts in various storehouses. Although in 1930s some power lines were substituted with electric engines, the remaining of the system was in use for over one century.

In a city so stimulating from the cultural and technological point of view, Ressel developed his most famous invention: the screw propeller. The idea to use a propeller (screw propeller, spiral wheels or similar concept) was not new to the epoch. David Bushnell designed his first submarine, The Turtle, with manual screw propulsion in 1775, but Ressel was the first one to patent his invention (“A never-ending screw which can be used to drive ships both on sea and rivers”). The Privilegium, the Austrian patent, was released on February 11^th, 1827.

He did first experiments with ship models in his fishpond, but in the Trieste gulf he rigged and ran the first civil ship with propeller, the Civetta, in 1829. The Civetta was a 48-ton ship with a steam engine featuring a Fichtner boiler and cast iron pipes capable of generating up to 6 horsepower (4,4 kWh); the propeller had a diameter of 1,58 meters.

During the experiment the ship reached a speed of 6 knots (11 km/h). Unluckily, a soldered connection gave way and the steam conduits exploded. While it was not a dysfunction of the propeller, authorities prohibited him to perform other experiments with this new technology.

There are many reasons why the authorities prohibited him  from developing this technology. First, there was the opposition of everyone who had interests in the construction of paddle and sail ships; second, the authorities had a constant fear of anarchic terrorist attacks and for this reason they preferred to avoid anything which may have frightened the population. Last but not least, all new technologies were viewed with suspicion. For example, many years after the introduction of steam engines on aquatic vessels, ships still had masts for navigation with sails.

After the sea trial, Ressel dedicated himself to other activities and retook the experiments years later. He continued to develop the screw propeller with new inventions, which allowed, for example, turning the propeller in order to use it as a helm. However, with the prohibition of the authorities and the lack of commercial investments, Ressel soon abandoned further developments of his propeller. Frustrated and embittered, he started working full time as forest officer.

When in 1839 the British steam ship Archimedes arrived in Trieste, Ressel could recognise his propeller design, retaken and improved by Francis P. Smith without being credited. In the same year, the first screw-propeller powered ship designed by Smith performed the crossing of the Atlantic in forty days.

When the British government announced a competition for the inventor of the first propeller, Ressel sent all his documentation to British Admiralty but the package got lost. Only after his death was he acknowledged as inventor of the screw propeller.

Working as a forest officer, Ressel came in contact with another important issue for his epoch: the deforestation of the Karst.

The Karst was a forest region extending from the Trieste Gulf to the Vipava Valley, which throughout centuries had seen its oak woods plundered for burning, pasturing, and shipbuilding.

It was an environmental and cultural disaster. The deforestation caused bad harvests, earth erosion and climate change, leading many farmers to poverty.

As Forester, Ressel first tried to reduce the consumption of wood suggesting more iron to be used for shipbuilding; successively he started a major reforestation of Karst planting the Austrian Pine. He started a reasonable forest management, which allowed them to save the environment and people living in it and to supply enough wood for commercial purpose.

The versatile curiosity and vast knowledge of Josef Ressel led him to patent inventions in many fields. He is remembered for an air cooling system for steam engines, a chemical compound able to preserve the wood used for shipbuilding, and even a press-roller for oil and wine.

Josef Ressel has been compared many times to another genius, Leonardo DaVinci; but while DaVinci left us only sketches of his machines, and it is still under discussion if his machines were ever realised, Ressel actually built, tested and spread his inventions.

Although he was at the service of an Empire which was, under some aspects, oppressive, Josef Ressel tried to use his genius to both serve the Empire and help the people and the communities where he lived.

This Klingon urged guests to donate to Millennicon's charitable cause, a literacy foundation

Millennicon is a science fiction convention held in Cincinnati on the third weekend of every March. Though its attendance is generally only a few hundred people, Millennicon has managed to become one of my favorite conventions. Not only does it attract surprisingly big talent, but the friendliness of the attendees and affordability of the badge and accommodations make for a fun, inexpensive, stress-free weekend.

The guest of honor at this year’s Millennicon was Tobias Buckell, a science fiction author who has been nominated for the Hugo, Nebula, Prometheus, and Campbell awards. Other novelists appeared for panels, autograph sessions, and readings as well, such as Gary Wedlund, Tim Waggoner, and multi-Hugo award winner Mike Resnick. Denise Verrico and Faith Van Horne celebrated the releases of their latest novels with a very successful Saturday night room party.

Aloysius Fox of the League of Cincinnati Steampunks

Steampunk was definitely a presence this year, with members of the AirshipArchon, Airship Passepartout, and the League of Cincinnati Steampunks lending their expertise on various topics and generally fancying things up a bit. Steampunk artist Kitsune had several prints up for auction in the Art Room, and the Dealer Room featured corsets, goggles, and other accessories by Got Steam as well as vintage clothes and hats by The Alley. Neovictorian jewelry designer Oh So Fine Jewelry was also on hand with some gorgeous handmade pieces, while a vintage jewelry booth offered a treasure trove of inexpensive finds. Finally, the winner of the Masquerade was a gentleman in his own handmade Steampunk engineer outfit, complete with moving parts!

Salena Van Eycke enjoys having her hair braided in the Dealer Room

Opportunities to relax were plentiful at Millennicon. On the twelfth floor, attendees could find food and drink in the well-stocked con suite, watch a film in the movie room, or play one of the numerous board or card games waiting in the game room. A pair of massage therapists were available in the main hall, and Mary Bertke of Dreamweaver Braiding offered her services in the Dealer Room (both for a small fee).

Late night festivities included numerous room parties. Guests enjoyed barbeque and cornbread at one Friday night party, and a fully stocked bar and episodes of Dr. Who at the “Friends of the Time Lords” party on Saturday night. Room parties were a great chance to get to know other science fiction aficionados, and even hang out with authors, editors, publishers, and artists.

Millennicon always stands out to me as the friendliest convention I’ve ever attended. Nowhere else will you find as many smiling faces, hugs, and folks eager to see you’re back, year after year. Guests gladly give of their barbeque, alcohol, and smiles to friends both new and old. If you’re looking for a convention where you can relax, be yourself, and have a lot of fun without too much fuss, you should add Millennicon to your schedule next year.

 The Grand Opening of Obtainium Works took place on March 17th, St. Patrick’s Day, in Vallejo, California. A more fitting date could hardly have been found, and it is hoped that the Neverwas Haul Traveling Academy finds as much success in their new home as Saint Patrick did in his travels across the Emerald Isle. Like that saint of old, the Neverwas Haul founders and crew had a difficult time gaining the foothold they now claim with Obtainium Works.

The covered stage hosted fine entertainment throughout the event

Their journey began in The Shipyard, a maker collective space in Berkeley, California, where the Neverwas Haul was constructed in 2006. Built as an art car for that year’s Burning Man festival, the Haul has seen its share of activity every year since. But, as with all art cars and large scale sculptures, the makers found themselves in need of housing for their creation, and storage at The Shipyard had always been a tenuous arrangement. The City of Berkeley shut down activities at The Shipyard in 2007, but allowed them to resume a year later. Still, the situation there was far from ideal. Working out of steel shipping containers and with relatively unstable power supplies, The Shipyard makers were just steps ahead of fate it seemed.

Enter a sudden relocation of Neverwas Haul founders, Shannon and Kathy O’Hare. Their move from Orinda to Vallejo brought them within walking distance of a disused auto repair shop on Pennsylvania Avenue. After repeated requests for rental rates went unanswered, the O’Hares, including Shannon’s brother, Kevin, looked into purchasing the site. The ink has been dry just over a month, ladies and gentlemen, and this weekend’s Grand Opening event portends a fantastic future, indeed.

A view of the beverage tent, with the Haul visible in the background.

For those unfamiliar with its history, the Neverwas Haul is the product of “industrious lunacy,” and Obtainium Works was designed to keep that lunacy alive in perpetuity. Judging from the artwork on display at this weekend’s event, the crew have no shortage of talent, inspiration, and creativity at hand. Nor do they lack for projects to channel all that energy towards. With the Haul now six years old, Major Catastrophe (aka Shannon O’Hare) says it has found its “final rusting place.” Not to be left without transportation, the Neverwas crew has plans to construct a new and more navigable art car, The Airship Impetuous.

In addition to serving as a maker space with storage and shop space for rent, Obtainium Works will be open for public and private events. Plans are underway for a murder mystery night and silent auction. The O’Hares also have plans to host art and shop classes for the local community. With education budgets finding fewer and fewer dollars to spread around, there’s a definite need for training and exploration in the arts, and we wish Obtainium Works all the best in their efforts at keeping creativity alive and well in Vallejo. There’s good news brewing on that note, ladies and gentlemen. The City of Vallejo has already been in touch with the O’Hares about occupying a nearby lot as a public art garden.

A video of the event is now up!

The cover story is “Electrica,” by Sean McMullen. And it does not disappoint.

Readers are swept back to the year 1811, into the turmoil of the Napoleonic Wars, where we don the role of a superior officer reading a letter sent by our narrator, Lieutenant Michael Fletcher. A more dignified man-of-arms would be hard to imagine, as Lieutenant Fletcher makes clear from his opening statement, an adroitly written plea that he be allowed to return to his work as a spy, deciphering and analyzing coded transmissions sent by the French. We are only given one word to help understand why the junior officer is making his plea, but considering the dictates of the era “scandal” is explanation enough.

In the summer of 1811, when the narrative begins, Lieutenant Fletcher is sent to Portsmouth to investigate an advancement in signal technology. He travels on to Ballard House, near Wimbourne Minster, and there encounters Sir Charles Calder, an eccentric inventor. Sir Charles’ wife, Lady Monica, and the expected staff occupy Ballard House, whilst a small detachment is encamped about the estate. This crew, led by Captain Hartwell, secures Ballard House against infiltration by enemy spies. While Fletcher is subordinate in rank, he is the elder of the two officers, and the more battle-seasoned. His experiences on the fields in Spain are tantalizing to the seventeen-year-old Hartwell, who prefers glory to guard duty. Fletcher’s cautionary replies to Hartwell could not find deafer ears to fall on, however. Here, too, McMullen masterfully sets up a rivalry that will play out in an unforgettable and dramatic scene later on.

From the first, it is made clear that Lieutenant Fletcher’s task is to determine what, if any, value Sir Charles’ inventions may have to the crown and whether or not there are goings-on within Ballard House that present any threat to British security. Our man does not have an easy task before him, and he knows this going in. He quickly learns, however, just how difficult the job is and how grave a threat is posed by what transpires in the rooms at Ballard House. Secrecy and coded transmissions are running themes throughout the tale, and the author deftly draws the reader in with teasing revelations that build to an undeniable crescendo.

We’re brought from the initial introductions of the various players through anticipated but no less surprising scenes of tension and resolution. A clever surprise at the end of the tale seems a bit of homage paid to a Victorian writer who might be considered among the Grand Masters of Steampunk. Whether or not this was McMullen’s intent, the story’s final scenes are captivating and the climax is simply superb.

McMullen wastes not a speck of ink in his narrative. His writing is fluid and comported as if he had the privilege of time travel, with Lieutenant Fletcher’s sense of propriety and decorum flawlessly presented. So, too, are we granted what must be first-hand knowledge of the minutiae of flintlock weaponry. The inventions, machinery, and rooms of Sir Charles’ laboratory in Ballard House are all likewise believable and compelling. Steampunks, especially, will find a lot to appreciate in this quick read, and anyone with an interest in the Napoleonic era will be thrilled by this supposed insider’s view on the field of espionage at the time.

Unhallowed Metropolis – While horror might not be the first genre brought to mind when a person thinks of Steampunk, it is still a very common one in quite a bit of fiction.  Zombies, reanimation, and disfigured monsters are everywhere in the stories that influence the subgenre and Unhallowed Metropolis brings them all together.  Set 200 years after the great Zombie plague spread over the world, London has become a sprawling city of terror.  Heroes, or at least those who still wish to fight, rise above the madness to try to take on not only the zombies that still haunt the people of the Neo-Victorian Empire, but also the aristocracy who hopes to keep the lesser people down.  Will you help to overthrow the oppressors, or take advantage of the masses and their yearning for help?

Published by Atomic Overmind Press, Unhallowed Metropolis uses its own system rather than borrowing from established models.  Copies of the core book are easy to obtain either through the publisher’s website or via Amazon for a very standard $39.99.  The game setting puts an emphasis on horror, which should speak to many fans who like a little Steampunk mixed in.

Castle Falkenstein – Another of the granddaddy settings for Steampunk, Castle Falkenstein is published by Stephen Jackson Games who also had a hand in GURPs Steampunk.  The big difference for this game is that it’s more for LARPers (Live Action Role-Players).  Instead of dice, the system uses cards to determine outcomes and In Character diaries replace standardized character sheets.  Set in New Europa during the 1870s, Castle Falkenstein mixes in the existence of mythical creatures such as faeries, and magick to add a small fantasy element to the mix.  Many consider the setting easy to get into and the system simple, intuitive, and certainly not just a gimmick.  There are also supplements such as Sixguns and Sorcery, a western flavor, to help expand the world setting.

A fun game for groups if you want to include everyone, the game can be a bit tricky to get a hold of outside of PDF form.  The benefit of that is that it’s cheaper to pick up off a site like RPGnow.com.  There are a handful of copies on Amazon, but otherwise this is one you should be willing to get in digital form and keep with you on your phone.

Sorcery & Steam – A result of the D20 craze that happened through the early part of the last decade, this Steampunk offering brought an alternate history to the modern world in order to produce a fantastical style setting.  Put out in 2003 by Fantasy Flight Games, the game relies on the aforementioned D20 system that was the backbone for Dungeons and Dragons during the time.  Rather than try to reinvent the wheel, it instead helps to adjust the already existing character classes, monsters, setting, and magic in order to apply to a world that never quite got out of the Victorian ideology.  Prestige classes, armor, weapons, and transportation all reflect the new world and offer exactly what one might expect from a push to include steam power to existing fantasy RPG tropes.

A rather expensive book to pick up anymore, it’s best to get this one from either a used bookstore if you’re fortunate, or purchase a pdf copy since the game is no longer in print.  Owning a copy of the 3.X d20 rules is important for running the game, especially the Player’s Guide and DM’s Guide.  Both are out of print making them just as difficult to find outside of digital form or used bookstores.  This does, however, result in the game being fairly cheap to purchase in digital format if you know when and where to look.

The Extraordinary Adventures of Baron Munchausen – How does one go about basing an RPG on the life and tales of an actual Baron? By making the game all about what it was he was best known for.  Baron Munchausen was a German noble who was well known for his ability to spin yarns and incredible tall tales.  He’s so legendary, in fact, that several books and movies have been made in honor of his life and what he was best known for: stories.  The game requires a group of people assuming a persona, preferably noble and wealthy, and a few coins.  A player is challenged to tell a story of incredible daring-do that can be interrupted and complicated by other players.  After one player tells their tale, the next has to find a way to top what they’d just heard and become even more heroic in the eyes of their fellows.  At the end of it all the players vote for who they think told the best story and award the remaining coins to them.

Something of a party game published by Magnum Opus Press, this straddles the line of being called an RPG.  Another older game that can be easily purchased in pdf format at various websites, a few copies can be tracked down otherwise.  Being older the digital version can usually be found for under $15 and would serve as a wonderful way to wile away the time in groups at events, though be mindful that size can matter with it.

Cthuhlu by Gaslight – It cannot be stated enough how much the works of H.P. Lovecraft have been adopted and beloved by a large portion of the Steampunk community.  Horror on a level deeper than an easy scare, the mythos created of old gods, cults, and lost sanity has given rise to many different media portrayals.  The RPG system has certainly been a popular one, and while the original setting could be considered close to Steampunk, Cthuhlu by Gaslight really goes for the Victorian appeal.  Not Steampunk per se so much as Victorian Horror, the game uses the system created by Chaosium for the entire Cthuhlu line while setting it in 1890s London.  A D20 version also exists for those who prefer that system and still have their books.  Just remember to not read anything you find in dark caves.

Another game published over ten years ago, it’s still as easy to get a hold of as any other game.  Drivethrurpg.com has most of these games, and usually for cheaper than a hard copy, in this case around $15.  Hard copies can usually be found but at a much greater price.

Victoriana – Dubbed by many to be a steam powered Shadow Run, Victoriana is a fantasy alternate history like a few of the other games on this list.  Unlike some of the others, it’s still being published.  Put out by Cubicle 7 from the UK, this is the original Victorian Era game of the company’s that predates Abney Park’s Airship Pirates.  The game is set on Earth around 1867, though there are a number of differences.  The biggest of which being that fantasy races and magic exist.  History has also changed in some ways as the Crimean War is still raging, and the US has yet to enter a Civil War along with a very different dominant set of religions in the world.  Currently in its second edition, Victoriana offers a British take on the ‘what if’ of fantasy set during the time of their greatest power.  Don’t expect quite as much technology as there is some, but it’s not as big a central focus of the game.

Despite being based out of the UK, you can pick up the game by Cubicle 7 off of Amazon for standard pricing of around $39.99.  Digital versions are also available through the normal websites at about half the cost.  This is the game for those who enjoy Airship Pirates but want something a little more grounded in the Victorian era.