The Infernal Aether Box Set: All Four Books In The Series

by Peter Oxley

  My elbow swung into space and I blinked, suddenly realising that the crowd around me had retreated. Just as I was about to congratulate myself on the effectiveness of my brawling technique, I looked up to see a line of red-coated soldiers pushing their way through to us with bayonets raised.

  “Sergeant!” yelled Lieutenant Pearce. “Well met!”

  “Sir,” said the sergeant, a stocky man with a drooping moustache. He pulled us toward the sanctuary of the line of soldiers whilst keeping an eye on the mob, which was starting to regroup. “Should we open fire, sir?”

  “God, no,” said the Lieutenant. “The last thing we need is another Peterloo. Fall back in an orderly fashion—with me!”

  The soldiers ushered us away, pausing briefly to fire over the crowd’s heads and thereby causing enough of a distraction to enable us to beat a hasty retreat. We formed up a few streets away and caught our breaths whilst our horses were brought to us. More soldiers arrived and they marched in the direction of the mob, led by a pair of officers who clearly intended to read the Riot Act at them.

  Lieutenant Pearce walked back to us from where he had been in huddled conversation with another officer. “We will leave them to pacify the crowd,” he said. “We have a mission of our own, which I think you’ll enjoy.” He turned to his men. “Sergeant, form up the men. We are marching east, to Greenwich.”

  “Greenwich?” I said. “To what end?”

  He just smiled. “You’ll see.”

  * * *

  We were met with a pleasant surprise as we stepped down from Tower Bridge onto the Thames’ southern bank: a group of soldiers with none other than my brother standing in their ranks, accompanied by the scientists who had so monopolised his time back in Windsor.

  “Max,” I grinned, dropping down from my horse. I rushed over and embraced him heartily; whilst I had often seen him for days on end in the past, our current predicament—not to mention the unnerving absence of N’yotsu—had heightened the sense of loss I had felt in his absence. He cleared his throat pointedly and I chuckled; he had never been comfortable with such displays.

  “Good to see you, Gus,” he said stiffly, but with the hint of a smile. “And Kate. What are you doing here?”

  “We got bored,” said Kate. “So these nice soldier people took us out for some exercise. Turns out we’re coming to escort you boys. So, what are you up to? Finished doing your science?”

  “Not quite,” said Maxwell. He peered at our companions. “It is wonderful to see you both, but the additional military escort seems a bit... excessive?”

  “I agree,” said Dr. Forsyth, the ever-present lead scientist, who turned to Lieutenant Pearce. “I thank you for your offer, Lieutenant, but we already have sufficient support.” He gestured to the other soldiers arranged behind them.

  “I am afraid I have my orders, sir,” replied the lieutenant. “And in any case, there is increasing unrest on the streets. You would do well to accept any assistance which is offered you.”

  “That is true,” I said. “We have just escaped from one rather unruly mob, which was agitated by none other than our old friend Andras.”

  “Really?” said Maxwell. “You saw the demon? Where?”

  “Well, not actually him. It was more of those infernal clockwork men, although these could talk and influence people.” I briefly recounted our exchange with the creature.

  “Fascinating,” said Maxwell. “It would appear that the demon is stepping up its efforts, and has managed to refine the tools at its disposal, aided, no doubt, by Richard Fitzsimmons.”

  “Our thoughts exactly,” I said.

  “In which case, we definitely have no time to lose,” he said. “Dr. Forsyth, I suggest we continue to Greenwich, post-haste. What we have just been told validates our calculations; we must get the equipment set up as soon as possible.”

  Forsyth frowned. “I agree, but I must protest against this additional military burden. Our mission is extremely sensitive—”

  “—and also extremely urgent,” interjected Maxwell. “If there is a risk of us being waylaid by unruly locals, then surely the presence of more soldiers would be an advantage, not a hindrance.”

  Dr. Forsyth clearly wished to protest further but, as always, there was no faulting Maxwell’s logic. With a reluctant nod, he gestured for us to start on our way.

  As we travelled, I walked my horse alongside my brother’s. “So are you at liberty to tell me what mission you are on?”

  He looked back, satisfying himself that his fellow scientists were out of earshot. “It has been an incredibly enlightening few days,” he said. “These people have provided me with some fascinating insights, and together we have created a device which will end this madness once and for all.”

  “Really? What, exactly?”

  “We have utilised the work I had previously done, effectively turning my previous theories and concepts on their heads. Whilst previously I had focused the energies upon the positive action of forcing a breach, we are instead going to achieve the reverse.”

  “I know he thinks that’s an explanation,” said Kate to me. “But I just hear noise. You have any idea what he’s blathering on about?”

  I frowned, head aching as I tried to convert his words into practical sense. “It’s a reverse portal?”

  “Well done, little brother,” he smiled. “We shall make a scientist of you yet! That is correct. Rather than creating a portal, the machine in those crates will instead, once it is fully active, initiate a series of vibrations which will effectively strengthen the barrier which exists between our realm and the Aether.”

  “Stopping Andras from carrying out its plans,” said Kate. “Nice. But when the demon finds out, it’ll just destroy your device, surely?”

  “We have thought of that. These soldiers will be placed on guard around the device. In addition, Dr. Forsyth believes he has a way to entrap Andras; as a result, the device will form a dual purpose, both thwarting the demon’s plans and acting as bait.”

  “I like it,” said Kate. “But why march all the way across town to Greenwich? Why didn’t you just stay in Windsor and put up your magic machine there?”

  Maxwell sighed. “It is not magic, it—ah, you are teasing me. Very good. But in answer to your question, there are some incredibly precise calculations which have gone into deciding exactly where the device should be situated, being somewhere which is not only central to the main disturbances which Andras has been initiating, but also the required elevation above sea level. Also, the soldiers like it because it is far enough away from the Queen, and the Royal Observatory is a nicely defensible building, so I understand.”

  In spite of these encouraging developments, something did not make sense. “If the soldiers are intended to guard the device, then why was Dr. Forsyth so resistant to having more soldiers?” I asked. “Surely that would be an advantage, if anything?”

  “I agree,” said Maxwell. “Although the good doctor is a rather precise individual who is averse to the unexpected; I have witnessed him being exasperated by relatively minor incidents. I suspect this is merely a function of that. After all, he has acquiesced to their presence now.”

  I nodded, but as I looked back there was something about Dr. Forsyth’s demeanour which gave me pause.

  * * *

  We arrived at Greenwich by mid-afternoon and, after climbing the hill to the Royal Observatory, we set about helping unload the equipment under the resentful gaze of Dr. Forsyth and his peers. I looked down from our vantage point to see the rambling but serene progression of Greenwich streets nudging up against the Royal Park and the banks of the Thames. Looking immediately north, the Royal Palaces and their pristine grounds offered me some comfort that, in spite of all that might come to pass, some things would endure unchanged.

  Maxwell insisted that we remain with him and, as a result, Kate and I found ourselves in the observatory’s Octagon Room on the first floor, the chamber made to feel almost cavernous in its unaccustomed
emptiness, with all furniture pushed to the sides to make room for the apparatus being steadily assembled by the group of scientists under the watchful eye of Dr. Forsyth.

  What they were piecing together was a nightmare of scaffold, tubing and miscellany, a creation bereft of any aesthetic value whatsoever. I had often wondered in the past, when viewing one or other of Maxwell’s hideous-looking machines, what impact the involvement of other scientists would have. There before me was the answer to this question; whilst I had no doubt that it would function effectively, it was without a doubt the ugliest thing I had ever seen. I wanted to scream at them: something which would save the world deserved to look better than this!

  The device took shape before my appalled eyes, filling the centre of the room with the scaffold almost touching the ceiling. “What is that thing?” Lieutenant Pearce asked me, as the scientists fitted the final aspects and then stepped back in a huddle of muttered checks and barked instructions.

  “It will save the world,” I said. “Hopefully. How did you get in? I thought you and your men were barred from entering the building.”

  “I outrank the leader of the guard here. In any case, no self-important scientist is going to stop me from following my orders.”

  I grinned; Dr. Forsyth had managed to unite us all in resentment at his officious, overbearing manner.

  Maxwell seemed to be leading the final checks of the equipment and, after a few more long minutes, he stepped back and nodded. “It is all in order,” he said. “Shall we commence with the initiation sequence?” He stepped toward a bank of dials, knobs and levers which were arranged against the far wall.

  “Wait,” said Dr. Forsyth. “I would take the honour, if you do not mind.”

  Maxwell nodded slowly and stepped aside, glowering at the man’s back. At a nod from Dr. Forsyth, the sergeant of their guard stepped forward. “For your safety, please move back to the rear of the room,” he said. “All of you.”

  “I designed this machine,” said Maxwell. “I am fully aware of—”

  “Please, sir,” said the sergeant impassively, ushering Maxwell and the other scientists toward where Kate, the Lieutenant and I stood. In the face of the mountain of a sergeant, backed up by ten of his fellows, Maxwell had little choice but to do as he was bidden. He stood next to me, his face a knot of frustration and anger.

  We watched as Dr. Forsyth turned dials and pulled levers, like a deranged musician operating the world’s ugliest church organ.

  “Wait,” said Maxwell after a few moments. “You have aligned those incorrectly.”

  Dr. Forsyth sighed. “No, I have aligned them precisely as they should be.”

  “But if you do that then—” he groaned and seemed to deflate. “Andras. You are working for Andras.”

  I felt my heart beat heavily. “What?” I asked.

  “I—we—designed the machine so that it would disrupt any attempts to create portals,” said Maxwell. “But it can be aligned so that it performs the opposite function. He is going to do exactly what Andras wanted: to create a huge, permanent portal to the Aether, and beyond.” He turned to the other scientists. “We have to stop him.” He tried to step forward but the nearest men blocked his way.

  “I think you will find that they are all in on this,” I said, looking at the mass of resentful faces before us; we were outnumbered, at least five-to-one, and certainly outgunned. “Lieutenant, I am thinking that retreat would be our best course of action, do you concur?”

  “Absolutely,” he said, stepping forward with pistol raised and pushing Maxwell back toward Kate and me. We grabbed his arms and pulled him with us toward the door.

  “We have to stop him,” Maxwell said. “If he activates it, it will be the end of everything.”

  “And if we try to attack into those guns,” I said as we pulled him down the stairway, “it would be the end of us. And then we would have no way of stopping anything. This way, we regroup and attack again. Think, man!”

  “Never thought I’d say this,” said Kate. “But Gus is talking sense, Max. Now’s not the time to blunder in—we don’t even have any weapons.”

  “The wagon outside,” said Maxwell. “One of the crates outside has our weapons in it.”

  “You beauty!” grinned Kate. “Albert, can you get us into that?”

  Lieutenant Pearce nodded. “If we can get down there before them lot upstairs raise the alarm, we should be fine.”

  We reached the foot of the stairs and ran pell-mell through the imaginatively named North-East Room, down a corridor and out into the open air. We made for the wagon as Lieutenant Pearce called his men to us.

  “That one,” gasped Maxwell, pointing at a crate, and I leapt onto the vehicle, clawing at the fastenings, not caring for the cuts which my hasty efforts were causing to my hands. The lid burst open with a satisfying crack, and I pulled out the two pistols with their pouches of bullets, handing them down to Kate and Maxwell. My sword sat at the bottom, wrapped in an oiled cloth, and I reached down to it, my heart singing at the sight of its rune-inscribed hilt. As I grasped it I felt my whole body relax into steely intent; it were as though I had been living for the past days with a barely noticed itch which had suddenly been scratched. Finally, I was complete once more.

  “What now?” asked Kate, loading a pistol and then passing it to Maxwell before loading her own. “Storm the walls, beat them up?”

  “Might not be quite so straightforward,” said Lieutenant Pearce. I looked up to see soldiers lining up around the building, blocking our path, weapons at the ready. In their ranks we could see the clockwork men, hideous rictus faces grinning at us. “Sergeant!” shouted Lieutenant Pearce. “Form up, two ranks, defend the civilians. We will fall back in an orderly fashion. No one fires unless I give the order.” He turned back to us. “I am getting damned fed up with retreating all of the time.”

  “But we cannot,” said Maxwell. “If that idiot in there activates the machine, all will be lost. We need to stop him!”

  “Use your eyes, man!” shouted Lieutenant Pearce. “They outnumber us. If we attack now, we will be slaughtered. Might still be slaughtered if we don’t move, right now.”

  “Anyway,” said Kate. “Looks like it might be a bit late to stop anything.” She pointed up to the sky, above the observatory, where a column of brilliant blue light was shining straight up to the heavens. With a clap like thunder, the observatory roof exploded outwards under the pressure from that beam of light, scattering debris upon us.

  “Now’s our chance,” bellowed Lieutenant Pearce. “Go!”

  We turned and ran away, taking advantage of the temporary confusion in the ranks of the defenders. I pulled Maxwell with me, hitting him every time he looked back at what he had helped to create. As we ran, I fancied that I could hear Andras’s mocking laughter chasing after us.

  Chapter 32

  After what felt like an eternity of running, we regrouped near the Commercial Docks. Although satisfied that we were not being pursued—for the time being—we were unsure what comfort that truly provided, given that we had just witnessed what amounted to the beginning of the end of the world.

  I looked back in the direction of the Royal Observatory. The pillar of light was visible above the houses, and appeared to be growing in size, spreading mushroom-like at its summit.

  “So what happens next?” I asked Maxwell.

  “It will take about fourteen days to reach its full potential,” he said. “By that point, it will be irreversible. Until that time, it will increase in size and potency...”

  “Can anything get through?” asked Kate.

  “Not yet. But in a few days—fifty, maybe sixty hours at most—the aperture will be large enough for anything of substance to fit through.”

  “So we need to close it,” said Kate. “How do we do that?”

  Maxwell ran his fingers through his hair. “There is a slight problem. The mechanics are fine: their operation can be stopped with little trouble. However, the machine�
��all my machines, since I first created the Aetheric Sound Conduit—rely on certain occult devices which N’yotsu gave me.”

  “So?” I asked.

  “So, once the machine has been set into motion, it requires a rather specific set of runic symbols or incantations to make it stop. That, I am afraid, is beyond my knowledge.”

  “But I managed to break your first effort with a broom,” said Kate.

  “That was a rather unstable, prototype version. Since then, we refined it and removed the instability.”

  “You really are a genius,” I said, shaking my head.

  “I am sorry,” he said. “We believed that it was necessary, in order to ensure that any future portals did not expand exponentially.”

  Kate gestured at the column of light in the distance. “Did a great job, didn’t you?”

  He held up his hands in apology.

  “All right,” I sighed. “None of us could have predicted how this would have ended up, and recriminations will get us nowhere.”

  “Might make us feel better,” muttered Kate. “While we’re being roasted alive in Hell-fire.” I shot her a glare and she abruptly shut her mouth.

  “So, Max,” I said. “What can we do?”

  “Well, either I attempt to learn the basis of the specific occult symbols used in the hope that I can find their antonym, which could take years, even assuming that I can find the correct source documentation.” He looked at us. “Or we find N’yotsu.”

  “That sounds suspiciously like a choice between two needles hidden in two very large haystacks,” I said.

  “Not necessarily,” he said. “I do have a solution.” He suddenly glanced to the side, and we noted that Lieutenant Pearce was listening intently to our exchange. “It may be prudent for us to continue alone,” he said.