Explorers of the New Century

by Magnus Mills

  “I’ve been visiting Gribble at night,” Summerfield explained.

  “You mean…?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I see.” Johns regarded Summerfield for a long moment before continuing. “Well, Summerfield, I’m sure I’m not alone when I say this comes as a great shock. Heaven knows how I’m going to explain it in my journal. All the same I must admit your scheme does have its merits. It offers the chance to test the Theory of Transportation at an empirical level, thus achieving far more than our original goal. What’s your opinion, Scagg?”

  “I’d prefer to reserve judgment, if you don’t mind, sir,” Scagg replied. “But I should point out that this delay is costing us valuable time. There’s hardly an hour of daylight remaining.”

  “You’re correct as usual,” said Johns. “Yes, we really must hurry if we’re to arrive before nightfall. All right, Summerfield, I think we can accept these demands in principle, although, of course, the details will have to be ironed out later. Now can you please ask ‘Princess Gribble’ to board her carriage immediately?”

  “Yes, sir.” Summerfield lowered his voice. “By the way, sir,” he added. “The royal title wasn’t my idea, nor the bit about bearing her aloft.”

  “Never mind that now,” said Johns. “Let’s just get moving, shall we?”

  After a word from Summerfield, Gribble returned to the litter and stepped gracefully inside, closing the canopy behind her. Then she was raised to shoulder height and the journey commenced once more. It took a while for the men to adapt to the new posture, but fortunately the ground was flat and before long they’d got into their stride. The sky had begun steadily to darken, investing this final march with a sense of mounting urgency. Already Johns had gone to the front of the column, and with every step his lead increased further. In his hand he carried the battered flagstaff. Soon he was a good fifty yards ahead, pressing forward with a marked determination. He appeared to be counting his paces, and at a certain point he abruptly stopped and turned to wait for the rest of the party. Amidst the swirling dust he stood like a statue until the others joined him.

  “Here we are at last,” he said, smiling.

  The litter was laid down, Chase verified their position, and the men gathered around Johns to give him three cheers.

  “Success indeed,” said Scagg. “It looks as if we’re first after all.”

  He shook hands with Johns, followed in turn by each of the others.

  Then, as night hastened on, the wind abated. Suddenly the dust cleared, revealing a mound of freshly dug earth with a flag stuck in the top. When Johns caught sight of it, he fell to his knees.

  “Oh no!” he cried. “No, no, no, no, no!”

  ∨ Explorers of the New Century ∧

  Eight

  Tostig spent two days at the Agreed Furthest Point from Civilisation. During this time he and his men conducted a series of tests, in order to confirm his doubts about the possibility of settlement. They examined the soil to see if it would support basic cultivation (it would not) and they dug a well in the hope of finding water (there was none). They also carried out a brief meteorological study, whose results suggested a severe lack of rainfall in the region. Meanwhile, Thorsson put the finishing touches to his map, on which the area around the AFP was shown in a dull shade of grey. When it was ready he handed it to Tostig.

  “With my compliments,” he said. “A depiction of nothingness, complete in every detail.”

  Tostig studied the map for some minutes before returning it to Thorsson as a keepsake. It was an accomplished piece of work, he explained, but there was no practical use for it. On the second day, Snaebjorn made an appraisal of the mules’ health and general condition. Afterwards, the five strongest were taken to one side. The remaining five had their bell collars removed; then Tostig produced a revolver from his pocket and shot them dead.

  Their bodies were thrown into the well. Deposited alongside them were a number of unwanted items, including the bottle of green ink. The place was marked with a mound of earth, and a flag. Tostig’s final act before departing was to write a courteous note to Johns. This read as follows:

  Dear Commander Johns,

  As you see, we arrived and found little of interest. Stayed for two days. We now wish you a safe voyage home.

  Kind regards

  Tostig

  The note was pinned to the base of the flagpole. Next morning, with nothing left to do, the eastern party started back the way they had come. Only Thegn glanced behind him as the camp was abandoned by the small procession of men and mules. His companions didn’t bother, and consequently he was the last to catch a glimpse of the flag that had once been so precious to them all. Soon it had disappeared from view. Ahead of them lay the faint trail they had established on their outward journey: a collection of footprints, sometimes vague, sometimes clear, which rarely wavered from a straight line. As such it was a source of regret for Tostig.

  “Quite a shame, really,” he said. “I had imagined this trail of ours would develop eventually into a proper road teeming with traffic (though strictly one-way, of course). I envisaged a great thoroughfare running the full distance from the coast to the Furthest Point. Naturally, there would be numerous obstacles to overcome: for example, those huge boulders we encountered would present a challenge to even the most practised of engineers, not to mention the rapids we crossed. Nevertheless, we know the route is at least viable, and consequently it is disappointing to realise our exploits will come to nothing. There will be no road to the settlement. Instead, our tracks will succumb to the ravages of the wind and the dust, before finally vanishing altogether.”

  “Will no one visit here again?” asked Guthrum.

  “I doubt it,” Tostig replied. “We’ve already proved the place to be uninhabitable, and we will report it accordingly. Having said that, however, there may come a time when other possibilities are thought up by enterprising individuals as yet unborn. Other schemes, other solutions. And then, who knows? Maybe a hundred years from now our steps will be retraced by men with ideas very different to our own.”

  “‘Explorers of the new century’,” suggested Guthrum.

  “Quite so,” said Tostig.

  ∨ Explorers of the New Century ∧

  Epilogue

  It was Snaebjorn who first detected the presence of the sea. The return party had been journeying for many weeks, and they were now wandering, gaunt and thin, along the dry river bed. Snaebjorn and Thegn were leading, while their three comrades lagged some distance behind.

  “Look how bright the sky is,” said Snaebjorn. “A sure sign that the sea is close at hand.”

  Already they had passed several marker posts, each with its ragged pennant, and they knew they were nearing the coast. Snaebjorn’s observation merely confirmed the fact. “Thorsson would tell you the same thing,” he added.

  By prior agreement, they paused and waited until the others caught up; then together they walked the final mile. As the river bed gradually widened and the sand spread out before them, they began to hear the crashing of breakers. Gulls were wheeling overhead. There was salt in the air and the sun was shining. The men cheered at the sight of the sea. Now, at last, they could head for home. When they arrived at the blockhouse, however, they found that the door was locked.

  “Damn Johns!” said Tostig. “He was supposed to leave the key on the hook!”

  They glanced around them. Scattered on the ground were boxes and supply cases, the majority broken open, some completely empty.

  “Quite a shambles,” murmured Snaebjorn.

  Guthrum took a deep breath. “That’s odd,” he remarked. “It seems improbable, but I’d swear someone was burning coal.”

  “I think you’re right,” said Tostig. “Look.”

  He was pointing along the beach towards the Centurion.

  Its tarpaulins had been removed and it was apparently occupied. Coloured bunting fluttered in the wires. The hatch was propped open, and smoke was rising
from the stack.

  The travellers approached.

  From inside the vessel there came the sound of raucous merrymaking. A man’s voice could be heard, guffawing loudly, accompanied by the giggles and squeals of several females. The portholes were all steamed up.

  Tostig rapped on the hull, and instantly the laughter faded. A moment later, Cook appeared in the hatchway. He was clearly drunk, and had a half-empty spirits bottle in his hand. His demeanour was startling. His hair had grown long and was tied in a topknot. His beard was divided into a fork. He was naked apart from a loincloth, and his entire body was covered in blue decorations. Behind him were four women, similarly adorned, and also naked. For several seconds the two groups stared at each other wordlessly.

  Then Tostig reached into his pocket.

  §

  Further along the beach lay Perseverance, which by some fortune remained untouched. A temporary camp was established in the lee of the vessel, and preparations were made to float it on the next high tide. While this work was being carried out, Tostig disappeared into the cabin and was not seen for two or three hours. When eventually he emerged his manner was subdued. He took Guthrum to one side and spoke to him in private; then he gathered his men around him.

  “We are now ready to leave these shores,” he announced. “Technically our mission has succeeded, and although it has borne no fruit we can content ourselves that we did not fail. Commander Johns, on the other hand, seems to have run into difficulties. I presume those broken boxes contained his reserve supplies; no doubt he’ll be high and dry without them. He’s probably marooned somewhere far from here, waiting for relief that will never come. Well, he’ll get no sympathy from me. He and his followers knew exactly what they were letting themselves in for when they embarked on their expedition. Plainly, their arrangements were inadequate, based most likely on outdated preconceptions and obsolete methods. As for Johns himself, he is obviously a vain and egotistical man. It is evident that he thought of nothing else but that he should be first to arrive at the Furthest Point. I expect he had grand plans for the colony to bear his name, and to be remembered in history as the man who solved the problem of the mules. Instead of which he is lost in the wilderness, caught on the brink of starvation, and a very long way from home.”

  Tostig paused and looked towards the north.

  “Johns’ failure is his own fault,” he said. “Nonetheless, it is our duty to try and rescue him. Cease work on the boat. We’re going back.”

  EOF