In a Latitude of Temperance (The Adventures of Ichabod Temperance Book 5), page 1
In a Latitude
of Temperance
ICHABOD TEMPERANCE
© 2014 Ichabod Temperance
All rights reserved.
ISBN-10:1500825557
ISBN-13: 978-1500825553
DEDICATION
This book is dedicated to a wonderful gentleman living in Edinburgh, Scotland.
The Adventures of Ichabod Temperance
Volume One: ‘A Matter of Temperance’
Volume Two: ‘A World of InTemperance’
Volume Three: ‘For the Love of Temperance’
Volume Four: ‘A Study in Temperance’
Volume Five: ‘In a Latitude of Temperance’
Volume Six: ‘A Measure of Temperance’
Volume Seven: ‘The Seventh Voyage of Temperance’
Volume Eight: ‘The Title of Temperance’
Table of Contents
Prologue One
Prologue Two
Prologue Three
Chapter One. Amazonia
Chapter Two. Deazeezipitzo
Chapter Three. Cape São Roque
Chapter Four. Rio de Janeiro
Chapter Five. Bonnie Ayries
Chapter Six. Xanawho?
Chapter Seven. Buenos Morte
Chapter Eight. Journey’s End
Chapter Nine. Tierra del Fuego
Chapter Ten. Tuxedo Junction
Chapter Eleven. Nocturnal Visitations
Chapter Twelve. The Scheme
Chapter Thirteen. Vive la Resistance
Chapter Fourteen. The Battle of Ushuaia
Chapter Fifteen. BattleField Journo
Chapter Sixteen. Dressed to Kill
Chapter Seventeen. Ticket to Ride
Chapter Eighteen. Rumble on Ice
Chapter Nineteen. Implementation
Epilogue
Afterword
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thank you, Wolfgang Metzger, for the charming silhouettes used on the cover.
Thank you, Sergeant Turk, for the wonderful cover graphics.
Thank you, A.L. Williams, for the additional cover graphics.
Thank you, Bram Stoker, for this endlessly fascinating genre.
Again, this and the other books could never have happened without the gracious assistance of my lovely, patient and kind muse, Miss Persephone Plumtartt.
Prologue One
Ninety feet of ice separate me from the ocean’s surface. Flight through these frigid, polar waters is tricky. I dare not show my beak in the channel the humans have carved for their ships. The brutes have proven their marksmanship skills in that confined chasm. My ice shelf cover protects me, but my burning breast must draw air again soon!
A flash of light! That is the opening in the ice I seek. The unnatural, flaring light ahead marks my destination. I must find a place to break the water’s surface and breathe again. Though my lungs are set to burst from their labors, I force myself to approach the water’s surface carefully. Working my wings to slow my ascent, I crest the ice-filled surface.
Huge chunks of floating ice, each weighing thousands of pounds, bob about my position. I must remain wary lest I am crushed between them. They do, however, provide cover so that I may observe my quarry.
This secret harbour is enormous, extending for hundreds of yards. Strange in their perfection, the flat walls of the channel lead to this exact square harbor. How are these men able to carve the ice in so precise a manner and form it to their needs? Walkways to accommodate their legs and feet lead to the carved channel, and also back into this forbidden continent. Three ship-mooring slips have been cut into one side of this artificial harbour. These docks conform to the three human ships here in this hidden, ice-bound bay.
One, a hybrid ‘steamer’ and sailing ship, is out bound. I need to make a note of her name and nationality. ‘Stoker’ is proudly painted on her bow and across her fantail. The ship is completely black but in a way that suggests that the colour is derived from the pigment of the wood, and not from paint. This holds true for the disquieting black sails that are being unfurled. Something in their thick, fleshy unraveling fills me with a nameless dread. She is a Norwegian ship by her flag, a sturdy, well-built icebreaker, but I am quite sure that the Nordic registration is a falsehood. My contacts within the intelligence community tell me that a Romanian flag would be more appropriate. Perhaps the ship’s owners inhabit an even darker section of that foreboding country. Her masters very likely hail from that ominous area whose name begins with the letter ‘T’. On what sort of foul mission could her evil controllers be sending her? I must put my own forces at work to trail her ill-omened course and give them leave to intercede if, or when, necessary.
A large freighter is moored to their admittedly ingenious dock of solid ice. Many human men work to unload her heavy, mysterious cargoes. A great crate is being manipulated by a crane from the ship. Voices shout out directions to deposit the wooden box on the strangely precise sculpture of the pier. These human vocalizations echo from the ice cliffs in the confines of the large, private harbor. To my mind, the voices are in a Slavic tongue and accent. This furthers my suspicions that this operation’s true origin lies in that remote and forgotten section of ancient Europe. Those hidden reaches of the Carpathian Mountains are still wild in many respects.
These crates they handle have the look of containing heavy machineries. What diabolical purpose could these clock and mechanical devices serve?
Then we have our third ship, the ‘monster’, of which I have heard so much. This, more-so than the threat of being shot by rifle, is why I enter this domain alone and not in the comradeship of my brave brethren. The ‘monster’ is well named, for though I know it to be a construct of man, and not an organic, it is nonetheless horrific in appearance. Hideous, bulbous eyes at the front of the submersible are mercifully turned away from me. The points of the creature’s aquadro-dynamic spine are highlighted by the intense, burning arcs on the opposite side. Gigantic, silhouetted shadows jump about the icy walls in brief bursts of blinding illumination as an accompaniment to some strange metal-working process. The brilliant, though erratic, purple and white flashes are caught by the reflective quality of the monster’s glass eyes to strangely inspire the spark of life in the clockwork creature. Sharply defined and sporadic shadows animate the metallic scales of the leviathan causing it to shimmer and ripple with berserker excitement. I half expect the abominable aquatic to leap with mechanical life and turn to devour me.
The two ships operating with falsified registries, and the ‘monster’, are completely unknown outside of my own secret knowledge. My sources indicate nefarious motives behind this extensive operation. My own black eyes have seen the devils at work for themselves to confirm the ghostly rumours’ truth. A major undertaking is underway, of which the world community is ignorant.
My every instinct tells me this is a criminal operation. Extreme secrecy has been achieved here at the bottom of the world. Suspicious characters, glimpsed only as fleeting shadows, appear to inspect the construction works and the unloading process.
I’d better go ahead and take my leave. I want to bring my own forces to bear to stop this threat. I doubt very seriously that I can expect any help from humanity in this endeavor. For such an ‘intelligent’ species, they can be very stupid, condescending, and infuriatingly obstinate at times. The few of their kind that I am able to tolerate are now scattered about the planet. I intend to confront this danger, with or without two-legged comr~bleck-kow!~ “Ah!”
~kah-bisssh!~ The block of ice that floats between myself and the harbor exiting steamer explodes in painful shards as I hear the shot whiz past my ear. Immediately, on instinct, I drop beneath the surface. I have foolishly dropped my guard with almost disastrous results. A marksman upon the mainmast of the dark ship ‘Stoker’ has very nearly shot me to pieces. I deliberately tick off several seconds, and change positions for concealment behind another block of ice. I must return to the surface for a better lungful of air before I start on my deep water, under the ice shelf journey of withdrawal from this hated harbour.
The rifle fire that accompanies this hasty gulp of air only confirms in my mind that I am indeed on a course of collision with the fiends. I think this also confirms their knowledge that there are forces such as I, and not just human foes, with which they must contend. This is no gentle enemy I engage. This is an organization of ruthless killers.
I shall not rest until my sub-surface, sub-arctic, sub-zero suspects are swept asunder. I shall take these walking sardines into my merciless beak and swallow them whole!
---
Prologue Two
“How could I be so blinking stupid?”
“Why do I ask you, Mr. Chair? It is because I tire of speaking to Herr Ashtray. I have no one else with whom to converse, so I am forced to engage you, my furniture, for cheery company.”
“‘But why, Professor, do you pile us up in the middle of the room?,’ you ask, my little footstool friend.”
“Obviously, I have shoved my bed to a central location and thrown the chair, table, lamp, yourself and anything else that gets in my way so that I may all the more furiously unleash my frustration in a circular path within this tiny room, as opposed to having to pace back and forth. With the velocity gained from my heady momentum comes a centrifugal slosh of brain fluids within my enormous cranial capacities. These fluids that power the brain cells within my gigantic skull that hangs in a spine-distorting forward lunge, are now employed to be pulling me ever forward in this perpetual path. I almost have enough room to work my cane and thus gain ever more velocity to further empower the crushing intellect that got me into this mess with all the efficacy of a perfect imbecile in the first place. I scream at you with no acknowledgment of your inability to understand as you are far more likely to comprehend my mad ramblings than most of my students that I am forced to endure!”
“There, that concludes ninety-nine revolutions in a clock-wise manner. I can now turn and balance my bodily hydraulics with a counter-revolutionary sequence of the equal amount of orbits as earlier exhibited; thusly I begin.”
“Trapped, I am, in this frozen dungeon of a hotel room. I never should have sent for that little fool, the Alabama tinker. That idiot will come blundering in, completely oblivious to the fact that he enters a nest of bloodthirsty monsters.”
“Why was I not wary myself? When I got the invitation and the royal treatment, I was blinded to the true and menacing danger that enticed me to journey to this glacial gloom. How I rue the day I ever met that little ferret of a man! I knew I could not trust the horrid little fellow, but the trappings were all there to distract my otherwise prudent sensibilities. The great piles of cash dazzled my eyes. The promise of fame and scholarly prestige held a prideful allure to my intellect’s vanity. Travel arrangements generously taken care of by luxurious, private ship were a nice fringe benefit. Alas, it was the pleasantries of the strikingly beautiful female companionship and their undeniable charms that convinced me to participate in this mad scheme. I can understand my having fallen prey to this alluring and charming threat. Good grief, but these women have an exotic sensuality that I had no idea existed in this world! I should have known I was being bamboozled, but one final element ensured that I could not resist the request of my assistance in this ominous, though fantastic, project. It was the promise of scientific freedom unbound that sent me on this doomed voyage.”
“Never would I have thought I could ever have the opportunity to put my theories into practice! My colleagues all laughed when I said that the hypotudinal forces of Limberger’s axiom were amiable with the theorems of gyrotic inertias in harmonic resonances to affect the colliquitatium of the centrifugal aptitudes involved with the axial orientation by using planetary reverberati as an impetus to gyroscopically manipulate the orbital orientation of the particular sphere involved. How could I have ever imagined such a mad perversion of my simple idea?”
“The inhuman masters that oversee this experiment... no, I can no longer think of this catastrophe in those naïve terms. The inhuman masters that oversee this insane and disastrous project care only for their own selfish needs, and they will happily sacrifice the Earth and her unsuspecting populace to achieve their own, singular, comfort.”
---
Prologue Three
I can hear my bones creak and my knees give off disquieting adjustments in their ancient resistance to the task I place upon them. My body began voicing its unhappiness with my wandering habits a millennium ago, but I am compelled by some unknowable drive to wander the floors and stairs of the vast keeps I have kept. I always manage to find some decrepit castle with an amazing amount of twisting stone staircases to keep my need for nocturnal exercises fulfilled.
These icy passages are treacherous. I have no desire to put my regenerative capacities to work healing a broken hip, but that is just what I will get if I take one missed step in this circular stair.
I am most pleased with this latest castle. It reminds me of my Finnish invasion of 1127. The charming winter ice castles the clever Finns had built before I devoured them were a perfect delight. I have wanted to enjoy their sparkling beauty again, but had not the means until now.
Now, now I do have the means. The miserable human worms have provided their own means to an end of their dangerous advancements.
I have seen Mankind go through many stages, but this last leap is one that must be snuffed out in its infancy: this insidious ‘Age of the Comet’. The ‘Revelatory Comet’ has been a curse to myself and my kind, but I shall now turn the humans’ inventive genius against their own species.
None of our kind has been affected by the visit of the ‘Revelatory Comet’. Seven calendar years ago was when the horrible thing entered this solar system. When the Comet exited this system, the Earth passed through its tail. The planet was horribly plagued by the contact. The entire world sprouted geniuses from every continent and level of humanity. Their inventive genius has been a frightening thing to behold as they fill the lands, sea and air with their infernal contraptions. They disgust me in their surge of power. Worse still, than the humiliation of not being included in the ranks of new genius for our kind, is the knowledge that other mortal beings beyond those of humanity have been favoured in this cosmic barrage. Many animals of this world are now possessed of an uncanny sapience. This is too much to tolerate! Earth’s true royalty shall now ascend to apply our grip on this planet commencing immediately!
It is time for the rightful rulers of this world to assert their control. Since I am the leader of these beings, then it is I who shall rule supremely!
“Ha, … ha, … hacaulpgh!”
My brittle lungs protest fiercely at this incautious use of their frailty. I am determined to have the last laugh, though, as it were.
Those mortal fools! How easily I was able to usurp their capabilities. The amazing inventions that fill this world and the intellects that brought them to fruition are even now being pulled into my inescapable grasp. I already have the theorist in my control. When I have captured the others that I require, there will be no stopping my glorious plan. Once I have these puny, pathetic humans in my possession, no one will be able to oppose me. The ‘Endless Evening’ shall be here. ‘The Never-Ending Twilight’ is upon us. This is the time of the ‘Forever Night’!
---
Chapter One.
Amazonia
“You gals are mighty attractive, but I already got me a girlfriend!”
The sweltering jungle heat has me pouring out buckets of sweat, the salt of which burns my eyes. I can almost smell the chlorophyll of the lush vegetation in the air. This air is as thick as molasses and as hard to breathe. A relentless sun cooks my flesh. Strong musky scents of my merciless captors reel my senses. My heart is racing for I am surrounded by a danger such as I have never faced in my life. The pounding in my chest matches the drums that fill the air in heavy, rhythmic reverberations. The relentless, palmed percussions move as waves, pulsating through the moist atmosphere. They are driven in sympathy with the passions and inflamed desires of the ravenous throng.
From my position atop this low pyramid, I am powerless before a hundred hungry females. They further mentally undress my already bare-chested body that is staked out before their forgotten mercies. The deep bass of their drums permeates our bodies. The persuasive demands of the drumbeat irresistibly drive the feminine wolf pack in their macabre dance. The throbbing sensation of the percussive vibration only goes to raise the wanton women’s passion to dangerous heights, while simultaneously releasing an unquenchable lust from decadent depths.
I have never seen such women! Each one must stand close to seven feet tall! They are magnificent specimens! Though possessing fantastically muscular physiques, they are still overwhelmingly feminine. Bright emerald eyes flame with undisguised desire upon their helpless prey. Their queen lets her green fingernails trail across me in tortuous enticements to howls of glee and laughter from the beautiful banshees. Green tongues lick green lips in hopeful anticipation. The sexuality of the wild women is barely tarnished by the deep green tones of their firm skin.
“Y’all seem like some nice girls, but these ropes are kinda tight around my wrists. Could you loosen ’em just a tad?”
