Weentered into a sumptuously decorated reception room with rich darkred walls, a cream ceiling and highly polished wood trim. The thickcream carpet below our feet must have been the very devil to keepclean. Two chandeliers hung from the ceiling, their light fallingupon a welcoming committee of uniformed servants with, next tothem, a table with a large metal tea urn, or ‘samovar’ as SirPercival whispered to me (I could see that he would shortly becomeinsufferable at informing me of everything Russian), and tea cupsand saucers.
Stillslightly light-headed I gratefully accepted a cup of the blackesttea I’d ever seen. Before tasting it I saw that Sir Percivalcarefully sipped his. “Takes some getting used to, Miss Lovelady,”he advised, after pulling an accidentally humorous face.
Thuslyforewarned I added a few more spoonfuls of sugar than usual andtasted the dark brew. Subtle it wasn’t and it also had anastonishing aftertaste. I was put in mind of gunpowder tea whichI’d tried a while back. If I didn’t know any better I’d say if Ihad any more than one cup it would’ve put hairs on my chest. It didthough take my mind off the yawning chasm (of at least severalfeet) below my shoes. The Liaison seemed to have taken a shine toit and was already on his second cup.
Wewaited for the rest of the contingent to arrive and partake of thetea. I caught some sly smiles among the Russian crew at the facessome of us were pulling.
Theportly officer arrived through the door and said in a loud voice,“This way.” The speed the partly-finished cups were put down on thetables spoke volumes.
I madesure that Sir Percival and I were right behind the officer as weexited the reception room. A short corridor with curtains eitherside of a wide staircase led upwards. I could imagine the staffwe’d just left having their rooms behind it.
Ifanything the decorations in the corridor above the reception roomwere even more lavish and I could imagine Mr Faberge rolling up hissleeves and sticking precious gems and applying pure gold leaf toanything he could touch. Sunlight coming through round portholes onone side set the gemstones off delightfully and caused gasps ofsurprise from those behind as they took in the incredibledecoration. I was merely after seeing one thing, whereas SirPercival was after seeing several things that were usuallycontained within uniforms.
Theportly officer glanced behind him taking in the awed looks andgasps of surprise at the interior décor. Spying my and SirPercival’s unimpressed visages he frowned slightly and came to astop.
“Royal family appointed Gustav Faberge to do decoration ofairship,” he portentously announced, waiting for us to be suitablyimpressed.
Hesoaked up the appreciative ‘ooh’s’ and ‘aah’s’ this informationproduced, but still seemed taken aback at my and Sir Percival’slack of response.
Whilethose behind us were examining the gemstones stuck to the walls heleant forwards slightly and whispered, “Why you notexcited?”
Mirroring him I leant forwards, fixed him in my sights, andquietly replied, “My companion is not interested in gems,whereas I want tosee the Caspian Star.”
He stoodback upright and carefully regarded us, again his eyes flicked toour hair. He seemed to come to a decision and nodded with his headto someone to our rear. Then, leaning forwards again, he whispered,“Wait for man.”
Ourfellow visitors had spread out around us and were busy exclaimingat each new discovery. The tea the Liaison had imbibed seemed tohave made him quite forget about us as he was examining the seedpearl decoration around a large portrait; of whom I hadn’t thefoggiest.
“Come!” the officer said loudly, while his eyes advised myselfand Sir Percival to wait.
Whilethe Liaison and the rest followed the officer I turned my headslightly to see a tall, dark haired member of staff approach us. Hestood and bowed slightly, “Please come with me,” he said in onlyslightly accented English.
Lettingthe rest of the visitors leave the corridor first he led us to anarea of the corridor between two large portraits. After pressingseveral seemingly random parts of the wall the outline of a doorartfully designed to blend in with the lavish decoration appeared.With a smug look he pushed it open and led us into a large darkroom.
Closingthe door behind us he flicked a switch next to the door and smalllights lit the room. I looked at the lights in surprise as theywere powered by electricity (something I’d been meaning to pressSir Percival to request be installed in the laboratory – possiblysafer around aether than a naked gas flame). The room we were inwas part of a larger one with gem-encrusted wooden panelsseparating the two. Above us was a dark chandelier. But why didn’the light it?
Soundscoming from behind the wooden panels told me the rest of thevisitors were in the other section of the room; where we wereseemed to be a more private meeting area. To my left was an alcovewith a pedestal inside it. I heard another switch flicked somewhereelse inside the room and I caught my breath as a kaleidoscope ofblue patterns burst over the walls, ceiling, and floor, originatingfrom a large blue stone atop the pedestal.
Slowly,as if mesmerised, I approached the alcove. Small lights shone upona deep blue stone the size of a grapefruit. It could be nothingelse except the Caspian Star.
Thecaptivating blue light was extinguished as the chandelier was litand I realised there were other people in the room with us. Drapingherself over an ornate chair was a beautiful dark-haired lady in abright red dress. Standing next to her were two dark-haired men,one wore a dark blue military-type uniform whereas the other wore aservant outfit. For some reason I felt I’d seen him somewhere elsebefore.
A gaspcame from Sir Percival behind me.
