A Murder Most Dapper | A Werewolves in Space novella

A Dashing Party

Oliver Ambrose took a sip of his tea as he looked around the grandly decorated hall. The University of Brasslantis really went all out on the unveiling party for Professor Quimby Stirlingwell's newest invention. Everyone who was anyone was here.

The recently promoted General Mustard was charming the bodice right off of the voluptuous Clara Copperpot. You could tell she was trying hard not to laugh, which was probably well and good considering the lack of lung capacity she allowed herself in the leather corset she wore.

Near the refreshment table, Oliver could see the esteemed Dappersby Gogglegear twirling his handlebar mustache. It was famous for being the only one in Brasslantis the actual size and shape of a bicycle handlebar. Dappersby wasn't the best police chief that Brasslantis had appointed in its short history, but he was certainly the most dashing one.

"There you are, Oliver." The clipped but chipper tones of Professor Stirlingwell caught Oliver's attention and he turned to see the professor standing behind him.

"Ah, professor. A lovely party, are you excited for the big reveal later?" Oliver set his teacup down and pulled out the hounds-tooth wing back chair next to his own, offering it to Professor Stirlingwell. 

"Ah, thank you, Ambrose. Now let me see, where have I placed my teacup?" The professor patted down his jacket until he opened it and saw the leather teacup holster with his favorite teacup settled safely inside the straps. He removed it and settled the cup and saucer on the table.

"Allow me, Professor." Oliver took the teapot from the table and poured it in Professor Stirlingwell's cup. The gears whirred and the tiny brass mechanism that kept the tea warm let out a burst of steam as the cup was filled. 

"Thank you, Oliver." The professor took a sip, careful not to get his mustache damp. "I must say, the turnout for the event is splendid. I had better go see the announcer about starting my speech soon."

"I'm looking forward to it, Professor." Oliver nodded and took a sip of his own tea, when his eyes lifted to see a visitor heading straight toward their table. "Oh dear, here comes Juliet."

Just then, a young woman appeared and joined the professor and student at their table. You could tell she was of a higher class as her dress had at least three hundred buttons, all of them with functioning and turning gears. Her firm breasts were pushed up so high and taught by her medically alarming tight corset that you could use them as a table. Even her goggles had at least seven lenses a piece, outclassing Oliver's meager four and drawing her mechanisms even in number with the professor's. 

"Professor!" Juliet cooed as she took a wing back chair for herself, pulling a teacup out of the holster on her waist. "Congratulations on another successful invention. Brasslantis would be nothing without your brilliant mind."

"Now now, Juliet." The professor smiled at the young lady. "My recent work hasn't been unveiled yet, and I certainly wasn't the only inventor present for the launching of Brasslantis into the atmosphere of the newly terraformed Mars. Goodness, I can't believe it's been a whole five years."

"Yes," Juliet said sadly. "It's a shame that we're floating high above the ground, the island cleverly disguised as a cloud by the steam chutes below. The poor surface dwellers will never be able to detect us, they will never know of our modern and superior way of life."

"A shame it may be, but at least we now have a nation of like-minded individuals who are ready to take the age of steam to it's pinnacle." The professor nodded sagely and took another sip from his teacup. "Far better than those Edison bulb-heads below."

"Oh dear, Professor, it appears to be time for your speech!" Oliver exclaimed, pulling out his second favorite pocket watch and checking the time. It's tiny steam valve had fogged up half of the glass watch face and Oliver wiped it clean with one of his dozen pocket squares.