Alien Autumn

Neil Coley

Description

The year is 1888. First Commander Ashto, and Apprentice Commander, Atia, land on Earth from planet Jara. Their mission is to assess the potential of this little-known planet for possible inclusion into the Jaran Galactic Federation. Going undercover in Whitechapel, the two explorers pose as a married couple in order to secretly gather data about London's inhabitants and assess the impact that their intervention would have on Earth's society. However, they quickly realise that Whitechapel is in turmoil over the bloody murders and mutilations of women by the deadly and deranged killer the newspapers have nicknamed, Jack the Ripper.As the attraction between Ashto and Atia grows, so does their need to intervene in London. A chase around London's recently opened underground railway and confrontations with a suspicious police detective is just the beginning, for they vow to bring this vicious killer, Jack the Ripper, to justice

Sujets

• Science fiction

Informations

• Publié par: Troubador Publishing Ltd
• Date de parution: 28 octobre 2021
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781800466630
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 1 Mo

Extrait

About the Author
Neil Coley resides in the Staffordshire City of Lichfield with his wife. He has written several books about its rich histroy. They are:

NON-FICTION
The Lichfield Book of Days
The Beauty and the Spy
Lichfield Pubs
Lichfield People
Secret Lichfield

FICTION
Lichfield Stories

An Alien Autumn is his first novel.






Copyright © 2021 Neil Coley
The moral right of the author has been asserted.


Apart from any fair dealing for the purposes of research or private study, or criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988, this publication may only be reproduced, stored or transmitted, in any form or by any means, with the prior permission in writing of the publishers, or in the case of reprographic reproduction in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency. Enquiries concerning reproduction outside those terms should be sent to the publishers.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.


Matador
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ISBN 978 1800466 630

British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.


Matador is an imprint of Troubador Publishing Ltd



For

Martha, Polly, Annie, Elizabeth, Catherine and Mary


Contents
1
Arrival
2
A Journey to London
3
London
4
Whitechapel oysters
5
Flower and Dean Street
6
The Britannia Public house
7
Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde
8
Atia Goes Further Under Cover.
9
The Queens Head
10
Atia has a Plan
11
The Old Nichol Gang
12
The Double Murder
13
Catherine Eddowes
14
The Fly in the Restaurant
15
Inspector Reid
16
The Elephant Man
17
Deoxyribonucleic Acid
18
The Ten Bells
19
Marie Jeanette
20
Tracking the Ripper.
21
A Return to the Britannia
22
Chasing the Ripper
23
Strange Meetings
24
13, Miller’s Court
25
Aftermath
Historical Notes
Now he was calm. Now he was satisfied. The great frenzy of hate and revenge that had consumed him had passed and, for the time being, he was himself again. He stood in the dark, deserted street and looked up at the night sky; it was extraordinarily clear. It had been a cold and wet day; the damp, yellow-tinged fog had been swirling around the grimy streets for most of the dull, daylight hours. But now the rain had stopped and there was no smoke, mist or clouds to obscure his view of the stars. With his keen eyesight he could see thousands of them, some brighter, some twinkling more than others, but all were beautiful - all were holy. There could be no mistake they were the work of God. Their bright magnificence convinced him that He had been pleased with what had been achieved tonight. ‘My reward for doing God’s work,’ he whispered to himself.
But he had not been able to complete what he had set out to do. He frowned. He had silenced the woman with his knife; he had plunged it into her many times - but had been interrupted before he could use it to cut away the source of her evil and corruption. He had heard the sound of footsteps further down the street and he had been forced to abandon his work. He suddenly felt his rage return. Not now! Not now! He relaxed again. There would be other occasions. He would have more time. He would give himself more time. He would plan his work carefully from now on. He would need the dark. He would need the alleyways and dank, dismal back yards. He would need the shadows. Next time he would be more successful in fulfilling God’s work. He would strike at the purple and scarlet clad Whore of Babylon when she turned her back on him – when she offered herself to him. He would grab her by her hair, lay her on the ground, slice through her neck and he would make sure that he had plenty of time to rip out all that was unholy inside her – all that was unclean. And then, when his work was done, God would smile upon him and make him calm again and dispel the pains in his head. But would his work ever be finished? There was so much to do. Would he ever have enough time? He frowned again. He didn’t know. His time might be shorter than he thought; he did not have any to waste; he would act again soon - as soon as God directed him.
And then he noticed in the night sky immediately above where he stood that one of the stars was moving from left to right across the heavens. He had seen shooting stars before but this one remained bright and didn’t fizzle out after a second or two. As he watched the star sped in its diamond brightness across the sky and he was suddenly sure that this was the sign he had prayed for. It was without doubt a clear signal from God that told him he was right to want to clear up the filth that surrounded him in this iniquitous place. He dropped his gaze from the sky to the street. ‘Soon,’ he said aloud. ‘Soon I will begin to clear up. Soon I will rid this city of all its abominations.’ He tapped his knife, which was tucked into his belt, lovingly cradled inside his coat, and walked on. The only sound he could hear was the click, click of his own boots echoing in the dirty, damp, deserted street.


1
Arrival
‘Are you sure these garments are what the inhabitants of this place called London are wearing, Apprentice Commander?’
First Commander Treve Pacton Ashto looked at himself in the reflective screen. It showed him to be attired in the most ridiculous clothing he had ever seen. Black, comparatively baggy leggings covered his long legs and an equally dark tunic, made of heavy material of an animal origin hung around the top half of his body. Underneath the tunic he wore a plain white linen shirt with a stiff collar that already chaffed his neck, a tightly buttoned, grey coloured, sleeveless garment that Apprentice Commander Atia had informed him was called a waistcoat and round his neck a long, pointless piece of blue and white striped material tied in a complicated knot that had taken Atia several minutes to arrange for him. On his head he wore a black, silky and ludicrously tall item of headwear with a curled brim that he, after staring at it for a long time, could not even begin to fathom its practical purpose.
‘Yes, First Commander, I am completely certain that this mode of attire is how a male member of the ruling class of this area called London is dressed at the moment.’
‘And what exactly is this for?
Ashto picked up the silver topped walking stick that was leaning against the console of the ship’s replicator.
‘Well, from what I can gather, this stick or baton may convey authority in the highly stratified society of London and informs those of a lower caste or class as to the importance of the individual who wields it.’
‘So it’s a weapon of some sort then?’
‘Partly perhaps but mostly it seems to have a more symbolic societal function as well as a practical one in helping an individual negotiate the byways of the London conurbation in a more efficient manner.’
First Commander Ashto nodded causing his hat to fall down over his eyes. Annoyed, he glanced at the replicator accusingly, considered for a brief moment giving it a kick for getting the measurement of his head size wrong, and took the top hat off and brushed back his short dark hair with his hand. He looked at the walking cane and nodded again. He understood symbols of hierarchy and seniority, as did all Jarans. In the egalitarian society that had been created over the centuries across the Jaran Federation, where patronage and unearned privilege had been long been abolished, power and influence was dependent on gathered experience, wisdom and, in particular, age. He had always been taught to defer to those elders who wore their merited trappings of seniority: the painted face-markings of the philosopher class; the skin-tattoos of the political officials and the various colours, hues and stripes of the military caste’s clothing. As a young and comparatively junior member of the Exp