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.

"You're right, Abrose." The professor drained his cup and placed it back in the harness. "I must be on my way. I'll see you two after my speech!"

"Good luck, Professor!" Juliet called sweetly.

"Yes, Professor, knock them dead!" Oliver cheered.

Professor Stirlingwell nodded and tipped his top hat with a smile before turning and heading toward the podium. 

"He's amazing," Juliet swooned.

Oliver rolled his eyes, ignoring the young woman and pulled his goggles down over his eyes, selecting the magnifying lenses to better see the professor's unveiling speech. Juliet plucked a fan from yet another leather holster at her waist and began to fan herself as she watched the proceedings start.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," an announcer boomed over a steam-powered announce-o-phone. "Please direct your attention to the front of the room as our event is about to begin!"

All eyes and goggles were pointed to the small platform in the middle of the hall. A brass podium with whirling gears and cranking levers had been started up and was puffing out a thin mist of steam around the professor. Next to him was a large lumpy item covered by a white sheet for dramatic effect. The professor cleared his throat pointlessly as all attention in the room was on him, and he began his speech.

"I am Professor Quimby Stirlingwell. Some of you may know me from my work on the steam rail system that winds around all of Brasslantis, and some of you may know me as the famous university professor who teaches theoretical Tesla mechanics. But after today, I will be known as the man who made a chair!"

Gasps filled the room, the shattering of a teacup and the fainting of many ill-corseted women soon followed.

"For too long, we as a society have suffered from aches and pains when napping in our wing back chairs, resting our feet on our claw footed ottomans. Well I say no more!" The professor slammed a fist on the podium, earning another burst of steam from the clunking gears. "I have devised a piece of furniture, reminiscent of our pre-historic days on the surface world. It's posture-correcting design is ideal for after tea naps. It will allow even the most refined gentleman to put his feet up in a dapper fashion, and best of all it's powered by steam!"

Oohs and ahs filled the air as a smattering of gloved-hand clapping cheered the professor on. He beamed and adjusted his leather bow-tie. 

"Yes yes, so without further delay, I present to the people of Brasslantis..." 

The professor whipped off the white sheet, revealing his invention.

"The reclining chair!" 

Professor Quimby Stirlingwell beamed with pride as the crowd looked on to his newest creation. But something was wrong. They weren't cheering and spilling their tea. Women weren't falling at his feet in a show of impressed lust for his giant brain. 

Quimby blinked at the crowd, and an ear-splitting scream tore through the air. 

Professor Stirlingwell turned in horror to his invention, only to see he had revealed along with his new chair the corpse of a woman, pale and lifelessly staring at the ceiling. Professor Stirlingwell approached and studied the pulse at her neck and the breath at her mouth, only to find nothing.

"Egad!" The professor exclaimed, adjusting the goggles on his forehead. "She's dead!"

"Murder!" A woman screamed.

"She's dead!" A man wailed. 

"Make way! Chief of police coming through!" Dappersby Gogglegear pushed his way through the crowd, showing off his shiny brass badge with not one but three turning gears on it. 

"Dappersby!" Professor Stirlingwell cried. "We have a crime scene on our hands! Someone has placed a body on my invention!"

Dappersby stroked his impressively handlebar-shaped mustache and frowned at the body. "I should say so, Professor. And I think you're a suspect!" 

From his seat, Oliver lifted the goggles off his eyes and gasped. Juliet fanned herself harder and began dabbing at her moistening eyes with one of her many silk handkerchiefs. 

"Me? A suspect?" The professor asked. "But it was my invention! Why would I do such a thing at the unveiling of my own invention?"

"That's just what I'd like to know," Dappersby said. "And we'll find out at the station. Come on boys, cuff this man and bring him back for questioning!"

Several policemen came forward, with their brass handcuffs and brass nightsticks. 

"Sorry to do this, Professor," one of them said. "But I'll have to ask you to come with us."

The professor, looking forlorn at his invention that would now surely be the laughingstock of Brasslantis, held out his hands to be cuffed. "Do what you must, lad."

As the policemen were cuffing the professor and walking him away, Quimby turned to his one trusted student and his oddly infatuated admirer. "Ambrose! I did not do it. You must find the real murderer, they are still on the loose!"

Oliver heard the pleas of his beloved professor, and stood from his table with a brave face and a hand over his heart. "I swear, Professor, I will find the real culprit and clear your name!"

"Yes, Professor!" Juliet chimed in. "We will clear your name as soon as possible!" 

"Well, you do have several weeks at least, since these things take quite a bit of time," Dappersby added, fully able to hear the shouted conversation between professor and student as he was right next to the scene. "We'll need forensics at the scene, then there is lab work to be done. Even scheduling a court date will be messy. Really, you've got some time."

"Please, Oliver!" The professor said as he was walked slowly out of the hall. "Clear my name!"

"I will, Professor," Oliver vowed with tears in his eyes. "I will."

And with that, Oliver had a mystery on his hands.