"Thaddeus!" I exclaimed. "When was the first of these walking dead fellows sighted, do you recall?"
Thaddeus reached for a strap; the steam cab was turning sharply, thus throwing us sideways.
"I believe, sir, it was about four months ago," he said when we were back on a straight course. "What are you thinking?"
"Hmm. I shall have to discuss it with Lady Rose, but I have an idea…"
At that instant, our steam cab pulled up in front of one of the anonymous entrances on the back side of the block which contained the Egyptian Hall. A porter came out, eyed us and waved the cabbie into the short alley. We stayed still as a steel door closed the alleyway off from the street, just as another door opened in front of us at what seemed to be a brick wall.
"Thank you for a delightful journey, Ezekiel," I said when we'd removed our accoutrements from the cab. I handed the cabbie two shillings and he tipped his hat.
Thaddeus was already inside, and I followed with alacrity. I was eager to see Rose and tell her of my bravery, er, of our adventures, and I was even more eager to deliver the mysterious flask of gas to the laboratory on the second floor.
"Afternoon, sir," said one of the pair of porters who were helping us with our gear.
I pulled out my pocket watch. "Dash it all, I'm late for luncheon with Rose," I muttered.
The dear girl and I had a table reserved for luncheon in the DIRE restaurant, which is rather pleasant and not at all dire, if you taking my meaning. "If you can get these bits and bobs up to the lab, Thaddeus, I would greatly appreciate it. But have that eye looked to first."
"It's just a scratch, sir," said the stout fellow as he turned in swords and lanterns to the supply clerk, who ticked them off on his board. He seemed to eye the large bag Thaddeus had brought a bit nervously, unsurprisingly. It was twitching and jerking as if it contained some sort of small steam automaton.
"It's rather more than a scratch, from what I can see," said a lovely voice.
"Rose!" I exclaimed as I turned to see her at the bottom of the stairs.
Rose was wearing her working attire, which consisted of a plain brown shirtwaist with a heavy canvas apron over it. Any other woman would have looked hideous; she looked wonderful. She wrinkled her delicious nose. "And you, Jonathan, will not be having a meal with me until you have a bath—a long bath—and a complete change of clothes."
I looked down at my mud-and-god-knows-what bespeckled attire. "Ah. Yes. If you'll get Thaddeus to the infirmary, I shall meet you for tea in half an hour."
"I think it should be closer to an hour," she said, standing well away from me—and this is a girl, recall, who can stir up the most noxious stinks in the laboratory and never blink. "Or perhaps two. Come along, Thaddeus. I detect a squeak in your mechanism which needs to be attended to while the doctor is looking at your eye. Jonathan, until later."
Rose seized Thaddeus by one arm and dragged him towards a set of stairs while I headed for my flat.
"Oh, no sir," said a voice.
I turned. Mr. Michael Faraday stood in the doorway to one of the many laboratories in the complex. I could see Mr. Charles Babbage hovering behind him, and in the distance, Mr. Nicholas Callan bending over a wooden table littered with bones.
The laboratories in the DIRE complex are huge, as you can see.
"Sir!" I stepped forward, my hand outstretched.
He eyed my hand as if it were infectious—as indeed it may have been. "I would like to have your clothes to run some tests on, if you please."
"Certainly," I said. After all, I was never going to wear them again. "I'll have them sent down from my flat, shall I?"
"I'll take them now," he said.
And that is why I ended up being nearly boiled alive in a vat in his laboratory instead of taking a civilized bath in my own tub. Still, it kept the stink out of my flat and in his laboratory. Though my trip to the third floor, wrapped in a white coat both too short and smelling of chemicals, was not something I wish to repeat.
And I took another bath once I'd arrived, with decent soap.