HAWTHORNE: Chronicles of the Brass Hand: Mystirio Astronomiki

by Christopher C. Meeker

  Wasting no time while our attackers struggled to renew their assault, McNeil took hold of the captain and, with my assistance, aided him through the opening in the wall. It was not long on our journey down the narrow passage before the great apes were quick in tow, our advantage from the blast diminishing at each moment as the captain’s condition commanded us to move forward at a tortuous pace, hobbled by his inability to carry his own weight.

  Once again McNeil reached into his pocket and produced the last of the explosives and, lighting the fuse, tossed it after us into the crowd of beasts. Again there was a deafening blast, and the apes were halted in their stampede, while the passageway behind us collapsed into a pile of rubble, sealing off the pursuit of the ferocious apes save for a few stragglers who had somehow managed to avoid the effects of the blast. These were dispatched with ease by a few well-placed shots from McNeil and myself.

  Gathering up the captain, we continued down the long stretch of passageway as quick as we were able, half dragging him along with us as we went and, soon thereafter, although the amount of time that elapsed seemed a great deal longer in duration, emerged through the crevice of the large stone as we had done a mere two days before. There, standing in the dark and looking quite anxious, was the girl, who I was later told refused to proceed any farther without me. Now joined with the rest of the crew, in the dim light of our small lamps, we began our hike back upstream along the river bank to return to the Stratos once again.

  We travelled through the jungle at water's edge, being as quiet and cautious as possible, disturbing the undergrowth just when necessary, in order to conceal our presence, stopping on occasion to listen to the sounds of that primeval forest in partial expectation of being set upon once again by dark, hairy shadows in the night. All was quiet as we approached the Stratos and, keeping a keen eye, saw nothing that should have caused us alarm as we approached close to the vessel.

  Nevertheless, before one foot touched the first rung of the ladder hanging from the side of the Stratos, the jungle erupted with the sounds of brush being broken and trod upon as some great beast or number of beasts crashed their way through the jungle toward us. It was not too difficult to guess the source of the disturbance, as we all had come to anticipate the relentless pursuit of the apes, and in a matter of just a few moments, as we had conjectured, the beasts were once again upon us.

  Chapter VII

  IN WHICH EDGAR IS CHARGED WITH THE STEWARDSHIP OF A MYSTERIOUS DEVICE AND HOW HE ATTEMPTS TO DISCOVER THE SECRETS OF THE GIRL

  The bloodthirsty horde rushed forward, trapped between jungle and river; no other choice was left us but to make a final stand against the apes, praying that in our deaths we would make good account of ourselves, fighting to the last. As we fired upon the masses of dark-furred brutes the girl, drawing close to me, buried her head into my shoulder and began to sob, the turmoil about us having taken its toll upon her. I felt great remorse at having freed the waif for nothing more than to have her perish in such a contemptible manner as this.

  Unable to bear it any longer, the girl, head still buried within my shoulder, let out a yell that, to this day still, rings within my ears, not so much for the volume of it but for the effect that it had upon the attacking apes.

  “Stop!” she cried. This was all and nothing more. It was sufficient for at this the apes halted in their very steps, motionless, gazing upon us with content and curious eyes, just as quiet and docile as any domesticated beast as one might find on any country hillside.

  Backing away with caution toward the Stratos, the men, each in turn, began a slow ascent up the ladder to the deck of the ship, now hovering a mere few feet in the air. The large vessel swayed but a little as it accepted the weight of each man as he climbed the ladder and stood upon the hull just forward of the pilot house, making no sudden move as he went so as to not give fright to the now tranquil apes for fear of renewed attack.

  In this manner each of us scaled the ladder save for the captain who, being hoisted up with rope, was one of the first aboard due in no small part to the several crewmen who had proceeded before him. At the last, the girl before me and followed by McNeil, the remaining members to depart, made our way to the safety of the Stratos, a miraculous conclusion to yet another impossible situation.

  Just as we were to get under way, however, a dark shape could be seen emerging from the jungle. It was the chaplain, looking somewhat worse for the wear, but walking at a steady pace toward the Stratos. It had not entered my mind that as of this moment I had not seen the chaplain anywhere about the temple nor in the company of crewmen as we made our escape, and I couldn’t help but wonder where he had gotten to all the time we had spent in captivity and how he managed, as I had assumed, on his own without aid and in want of food and shelter. Nevertheless, the ladder was commanded to be let down and under his own strength the chaplain made his way to the deck of the ship and was soon standing, once again, among his crew-mates.

  The Egyptian, a look of deep disgust upon his face, powerless to prevent our escape, turned and disappeared into the jungle. The large group of apes, no longer under his control, remained upon the banks of the Congo River.

  Without further adventure, the mighty Stratos was in the air once more as each of the remaining crewmen set about the task of performing his assigned duty, and after seeing the girl comforted away in a cabin of her own choosing, I returned to the deck of the Stratos to stand alongside McNeil in the pilot house as he guided the craft south toward our initial destination: the airbase at the Cape of Good Hope.

  Though exhausted from the events of the past several days, I wished to remain on the bridge through the remainder of the night as we made for the south of Africa, in order that I might witness the sunrise, for it had been some time, or so it seemed, since I had last basked in the warm glow of that great orange orb as it appeared upon the horizon and climbed its way through the morning sky. I had missed the sight of it and now hoped its appearance would serve to ease my troubled mind. This it did, however only in part, for thoughts of the girl vexed me still and weighed upon me a good deal.

  After some time on the bridge, the sunrise well-passed, I felt the weariness of the previous several days overtake me, so I returned to my cabin on the hope that perhaps a few hours of rest might, in part, return my physical and mental state to that which it was prior to our encounter with the marauders, the apes, the Egyptian, and the mysterious girl, of whose identities I hadn't the slightest notion. It was a mystery which I determined to undertake at the earliest opportunity, though I had strong suspicion the matter would of itself resolve with little coaxing after a fashion.

  Upon entering my cabin I gave no mind to its current state of disarray and made straight for my bunk, which in comparison to the temple floor, seemed to my eyes to be that of any king or emperor. As I lie down upon the dishevelled cot, my body relinquished all control, and soon I was off to the deepest of slumber. It was a sleep which I had not experienced for quite some years, and I was amazed at the effect pure exhaustion had upon me, for I dreamt of nothing and was not conscious of the number of hours I lay asleep until I was awoken some time mid-afternoon by the bosun.

  “The Lieutenant would like to see you in the pilot house when you are ready, Mister Hawthorne,” he said.

  I rose, climbed the ladder to the upper deck, and entered the pilot house where, just as I had left him earlier that morning, I found the ever diligent McNeil guiding the Stratos onward to our appointed destination, albeit several days off schedule. It was a clear day, the sky absent of any form of cloud whatsoever, the sun shining brightly overhead, yet the altitude made the weather somewhat colder than one might expect on such a bright summer's day.

  The pilot house, although looking somewhat trimmer than following the battle of the preceding days, still showed many signs of the damage the vessel had sustained. Splintered wood, which had littered the deck, had been removed to the boiler room as fuel for steam production. As well, much of the metal ornamentation wh
ich once adorned the room had been cast overboard to reduce the weight of the Stratos in an effort to allow the craft to rise to safer altitudes, at which we were now moving along reliably.

  Upon entering, McNeil called me to the wheel and informed me that we were now a good number of miles above the southernmost part of the Congo, and although travelling at a slower rate than before the Stratos had been damaged, we would arrive at the Cape of Good Hope, he surmised, in less than a day and a half. The acting captain also stated that it appeared the repairs made to the ship before our ordeal of the past several days seemed to be holding up well and should see us to our port of call in relative safety. He also noted that Captain Bowman had been asking of me and if I would, at my earliest convenience, call upon him in the infirmary.

  I assured McNeil I would see the captain straight away but that my most pressing concern was for the well-being of the girl whom, for a reason I am not quite able to explain, I had become as attached to as my dearest sister, Ophelia. These feelings toward the girl, a person whose acquaintance I had but made hours earlier, defied all reasoning. This was a quandary to me; nevertheless, I was still quite concerned for the girl and her welfare whether the underpinnings for those feelings were understood by myself and others or not.

  McNeil assured me that all was well with her and that she had been resting in her cabin quite at peace since the moment we took to the sky. Nonetheless, I requested that someone continue to look in upon her whenever possible and that I would do likewise with the captain as soon I departed the bridge. McNeil agreed and said he would send the chaplain to visit her several times throughout the day and into the evening. For what reason I know not, but the mere mention that the chaplain would be the girl’s immediate supervisor gave rise to an uneasy feeling which I could not, at the moment, give an account for.

  I thanked McNeil and with a nod turned and exited the pilot house, making my way down to the infirmary where I found the captain resting in one of several bunks, bandaged, bruised, and harried but otherwise looking a good deal better than he had appeared when he was rescued with the others from his cell in the temple. I dare not imagine what would have happened to Bowman were we not able to give him a proper rescue, but I have suspicion that he would no longer be with us.

  The good captain, taking notice as I entered the room, motioned me to his bedside, indicating that I was to have a seat on a slender stool adjacent to his bed. As I sat down his eyes fixed upon mine and he began to speak, slow at first and then with more urgency as he continued. It seemed a terrible effort for him to speak at all, and I bade him to rest and promised I would return later when he was better able to receive visitors, but he waved this suggestion away and continued speaking to me, his voice almost a whisper.

  “I have failed in my duty,” he said. “I was charged by your father to see you to Good Hope in safety, and I fear I have managed instead to place you in the greatest of jeopardy and peril.”

  I made great effort to assure the captain that he had done nothing of the sort, for although we did encounter a good amount of trouble in the Congo as of late, I came through it unharmed save for a few bruises and the odd scrape or two. My words went unheeded, for with a slight wave of his hand he indicated that he accepted blame, in whole, for what had transpired over the past several days and refused to hear any argument that might have suggested otherwise.

  “Your father wanted you as far away from London as possible, for he did not desire you to become entangled in his current dealings. There are numerous secrets, Edgar, none of which you are aware, including the services your father has provided King and country for a great number of years.

  “Your father desired that I not mention this to you, but I see now that you are as embroiled in this conflict as any of us and it is my duty, in the hope that what little information I can give you will aid in your continued safety,” he said.

  “I believe, if I take your meaning, you are saying the events that have taken place as of late were not altogether unexpected and that it was, for the better part, a situation for which you had hoped you had been well prepared?” I said.

  “Yes.”

  “I see. Nevertheless, I am still rather unclear as to what my father’s involvement in the matter is, and I am quite curious now as to why he wished me out of London. As to his service to the King and the Royal Navy, it was always my accepted belief that he had retired with the rank of Captain after having served all those years, and nothing more. I am beginning to think otherwise,” I said.

  “You would be quite correct in questioning any former assumptions you may hold in regard to your father. He is of more importance to a great number of people than you realize, and were it left to me, I would divulge to you the entirety of the matter. However, it is not, and it remains your father’s responsibility to share with you what he will. He or a power higher than he,” Bowman said.

  I was not certain what to make of all that the captain had told me; however, I decided that if adventure was something I had hoped for on this trip, I was without question getting a good deal of it. Thinking the captain had no more to discuss, I turned to leave, but he took hold of my sleeve, and it became clear that he had further information he wished to share with me.

  “It was fortuitous you found the girl,” he said. “A matter of luck I should suppose. See to it, Edgar, you do not let her fall into the hands of evil again. It is of the utmost importance that she be returned to London as soon as possible. I would have wished us to return there without delay; however, the Stratos is in desperate need of repair, and it is wiser to continue on to our original destination. I believe, if I am correct, you will find the answers you are looking for there.”

  I nodded.

  “There is one last thing. It is what they were looking for when the ship was ransacked,” Bowman said. “It is hidden in my quarters, in a false bottom in the chest at the foot of my bunk. A mechanism of scientific wonder. Find it and keep it safe until you reach the observatory. Once there, give the device....”

  The captain's voice faded as he succumbed to the strain of the injuries he had sustained and, in the weariness of his condition, drifted off to unconsciousness.

  I attempted to rouse him in order that we might continue the conversation, for I had many questions I should have liked the answers to, above all those concerning the girl, the Egyptian, and now this device, whatever it may be, and who was to be the recipient thereof, however, Captain Bowman stirred not again for the remainder of our journey.

  What had this whole affair to do with Father, and why was I to be out of London? These were questions which deserved answers; therefore, I took it upon myself, at that very moment, to become the chief investigator of the whole affair. Speaking with the girl seemed, in my mind, to be the place to start for, though she may have few answers to give, it appeared as though she was the centre of the entire puzzlement. It also is not beyond me to admit that I desired to see the young woman for personal reasons. Perhaps, without my conscious knowledge, the resemblance she bore to my departed sister had been a way to ease my pain over the loss of her.

  I left the good captain in the able hands of the medics in the infirmary and proceeded without detour to his cabin and to the locker at the foot of his bunk just as he had described. I found the chest overturned, as so many aboard the vessel had been, its contents strewn about the place in evidence of a search, but otherwise intact and unharmed. I righted the heavy box and began an immediate search of some form of lever or latch that might be utilized to reveal the false bottom and the device, which the captain spoke of, hidden within.

  After searching several minutes, my hand brushed across a protrusion on the underside of the chest, a small, ingenious wooden latch crafted so as to blend itself with the original construction of the box, and all but invisible until it had been sprung. With a firm press the latch, under tension from a concealed spring, gave way and I was able to hear the bottom of the chest open with a slight popping sound. Peering into the box, I disc
overed the object I had been searching for.

  I removed the item and turned it over several times, examining every detail: a remarkable device of quite exquisite design and construction. I sat for some time admiring it, curious as to its exact operation and function. I had no doubt that my friend Herschel, to whom I assumed the captain had wished the object delivered, for I could think of no other person in employ at the observatory he could have been speaking of, would understand the device and its purpose. Despite Herschel's close relationship with our family, I nevertheless harboured the particular notion that as the captain had been rather secretive of the item's location and the Egyptian's desire to come into its possession, little information concerning the object would be divulged.

  The device, which was similar in appearance to a spherical astrolabe, yet far more complex in design and feature than I had seen heretofore, consisted of a spherical framework of metal rings of what appeared to be bronze with copper and brass fittings securing another number of offset rings, gears, and other workings within. In the centre of the device was located a rather detailed globe of the Earth, which upon the surface rested a number of finely crafted arms terminating in what could best be described as small windows. I took these to be indicators of location of some type or other, and would later discover the accuracy of this notion. On the lower portion of the mechanism, at its base, there protruded several rods from a small gearbox, the major being the axis running the complete length of the device. These appeared to accept some type of key or lever. At the opposing end of the metal sphere, there appeared a second gearbox, although this one had a number of apertures cut into it, revealing within small dials which indicated such things as latitude, longitude, dates, days, hours, and minutes as well as a great number of other measurements.