HAWTHORNE: Chronicles of the Brass Hand: Mystirio Astronomiki

by Christopher C. Meeker

  The better part of the markings located on the object were written in Greek, for I recognized several of them and deduced that they were descriptions of the zodiac. Within the sphere were also a number of small globes which I took to represent the sun, moon, and planets of our solar system. It was therefore my conclusion that the device was used for the prediction of both lunar and solar eclipses and for that matter many other celestial occurrences, progressions, alignments, and locations of celestial bodies as they traversed across the skies.

  Any further analysis of the mechanism’s specific purpose would be pure conjecture upon my part, for without knowing the details concerning the operation of the device, it would be impossible to determine its primary use and reason for creation; however, for the moment, I was satisfied with my own explanation of the apparatus and resigned myself to the notion that I would have to wait for another time to learn of its exact function and its importance to those concerned.

  I wrapped the device in my topcoat and departed for my quarters; seeing no one in the corridors I was quite sure I had returned to my cabin unobserved. Once there I placed the object into my pack, covering it with as many items as possible to avoid its being detected by any unwanted gaze. The pack, I was determined, would now be carried with me wherever I travelled, for, if the mechanism were of such great importance as the captain had reported, I dared not leave its discovery to pure chance hidden in some portion of the ship’s depths or other unsecured locale aboard the vessel.

  Taking the opportunity, I went about straightening my cabin, returning each item to its proper place and discarding that which had been destroyed. Most of my property had gone unharmed, something for which I was quite grateful for, and none of my belongings seemed to be missing. This was the work of the Egyptian to be sure, intent on discovering the location of the device, for if it were otherwise I am quite certain I would have been relieved of my gold pocket watch, which I now fastened by a tight clip to the interior of my trouser pocket.

  Finishing the task at hand, I determined that I would next visit the chaplain, for I had certain questions concerning the matter of his disappearance within the jungle during our detainment in the temple. I found it difficult to believe that a single man could remain within the jungle in such close proximity to the temple and go quite undetected by either the apes, the Egyptian, or the men in his employ.

  Slinging the pack over my shoulder, I exited my quarters and headed straight for the cabin of the chaplain; however, I was detained a moment by the bosun, who informed me that I had received a message from my father in London across the wireless. I inquired as to what the report contained, but was informed that I alone was the intended recipient and that if I would see myself to the radio room, I would find the communication there, waiting for my retrieval.

  I detoured to the radio room through the main portion of the craft that connected the two hulls together and served as the location for not the engine room and armoury alone, but also the mess and supply stores. Making my way then to the Stratos' communications centre in the adjoining hull, I entered to find several of the crew working with some haste at the reparation of several odd looking consoles, as well as another interesting apparatus. I was shown to one of the machines, a small box about the size of a soap crate, constructed of polished cherry and adorned with copper fittings.

  The lid of the device was in a raised position, in all likelihood to facilitate maintenance or repair, and I could see, quite visible, a multitude of interconnected gears, levers, and springs, all of which turned and whirred throughout the device’s operation. It was a marvellous piece of technology, and it was not difficult to identify it as the wireless device with which I was to receive my message.

  One of the crew, a technician, drew my attention to a small button on one side of the wireless and indicated that I should press it. Upon doing so I was met with the clicking and buzzing sounds indicating that a message was being retrieved. At the bottom of the device a narrow strip of paper began to issue forth with the message from my father printed on it by means of long, slender automatic type-bars contained within the machine. The whole process, though the wireless had been around for some time, still intrigued me whenever I had the opportunity to witness one in operation.

  I tore the message free of the machine with a simple jerk and read what had been printed on it just moments before. As the bosun had indicated, the message was indeed from my father, and what was printed thereon seemed rather curious to me and filled my heart with a feeling of heaviness as well. It was that feeling of foreboding which sweeps across a person when they have become quite sure something is amiss without good cause to believe so and in the face of a total lack of evidence to indicate anything to the contrary.

  While reading the message, I relaxed somewhat but remained apprehensive, for even though the news was not dire in nature it did leave me with a good many questions and concerns. The whole of the message was written as follows:

  Edgar,

  I must depart London in the utmost haste, and although my heart wishes it, I cannot divulge to you my destination. This is for your own safety and mine, and a good number of others as well. I shall contact you again as soon as I am able. Upon your return you will find a small box within the locked drawer of my desk in the study. It is for you alone. I am certain you will know what to do with its contents. I regret thrusting this responsibility upon you, but it is fate alone that has forced me to do so. Godspeed and I pray you see yourself to the observatory in safety.

  Your Father

  The meaning of the message had been all but lost on me save for the portion concerning the retrieval of the small box when I returned home; nonetheless, I was in quite a confusion over the sudden and unexplained departure of my father and the secrecy of his destination. I could not fathom who or why, or what manner of harm could have befallen him, nor what possible harm could come to myself for that matter, that he should send to me such an enigmatic communication.

  Folding the slip of paper and tucking it into my breast pocket, I continued on my way, showing no alteration in my demeanour so as not to raise suspicion that anything might be amiss. I proceeded on to Moreton's cabin in order that I might have a few words with him, as I have mentioned before, concerning his absence during our ordeal in the temple and of how he managed to escape detection and survive those several nights without apparent means of sustenance.

  Upon reaching the chaplain’s quarters, I knocked several times, striking my knuckles upon the wooden door with some force, as I wanted to be sure I would be heard. Within a few moments the door opened, and I was greeted by a rather jovial Chaplain Moreton, which took me at surprise, a large smile crossing his freshly shaven face. He greeted me and bade me to enter, smiling all the while, an air of genuine happiness all about him. This I found, for no apparent reason, somewhat unsettling.

  I entered the cabin and, although I felt somewhat ill at ease, I went straight to the matter of questioning the chaplain, for if I were to trust the man to care for the girl in my absence, his character would indeed require proving. I queried Moreton concerning a good many things: the matter of his absence in the temple while the rest of the crew and myself were kept under guard, where he had gotten off to during the battle with the marauders, how he avoided capture, and how he managed to find himself under the command of Captain Bowman aboard the H.M.A. Stratos from the very start.

  His answers, although satisfactory, did little to ease my mind, as for some unknown reason, I still did not trust the man. You may call it a discernment of sorts, or perhaps an instinct, for whenever in the company of this gentleman I would always experience a feeling of dread. I could not relieve myself of this condition in any way, whether it was to put the whole matter out of my head altogether or distract myself with other activities. Try as I might, the ill feelings I had when in the man's presence at all times remained the same.

  Finding no reason to detain the chaplain any longer, for he had answered each of my questions and
there was no more to be discussed, I smiled and with a polite nod excused myself. My concern at the moment, as it had been from the instant I had discovered her, was for the girl, and although it is difficult to explain, it seemed my drive to comfort her and protect her from every ill and evil I perceived came not from any intellectual notion but rather a form of raw instinct, an almost supernatural grasp that the girl held me within. Being the logical sort, however, I attempted to dismiss this notion altogether. Whether logical or supernatural, it was quite plain that her effects upon me were as real as anything I had yet encountered, and were I to dismiss that fact flatly, would find myself in no different a condition in any case; therefore, I chose to leave my mind open to all possibilities.

  It was for this reason I decided, like the mechanism entrusted to me by the captain, that I would keep the girl by my side at all times, or at least as often as I was able. I elected to occupy the quarters opposite hers and began to move my belongings into that room with the utmost immediacy, an action that was not altogether pleasing to the chaplain, for upon discovering my plans to change lodging, he protested with vigour to McNeil, then to myself, citing his ability to care for the girl would be undermined by my mere presence alone. I found this notion to be rather ludicrous and nonsensical in every possible fashion.

  Thus having moved my belongings to my new quarters across from the girl’s, for McNeil refused to acquiesce to Moreton's demands that I remain in my original cabin, I decided that upon her first stirring I would make my intentions to watch over her known and would offer my services to her in any manner in which she desired. My entire purpose, driven by some still yet unknown force, was to protect and provide for the girl until I was certain she could do so on her own or I was, by some means or other, relieved of the charge with which I had imposed upon myself.

  I had not long to wait, for as I was settling into my new accommodations, there came a knock at my door. Upon opening it I discovered the girl herself standing before me. Startled again at the remarkable likeness of Ophelia, I hesitated for but a moment before I was able to speak without stammering, at which I offered her entrance. She gave a small nod and entered, the slightest hint of a crooked smile upon her lips in just the same manner as my sister had habit to do on occasion whenever she became shy or uncertain. I must once again make comment concerning the similarity between this girl and my departed sister, whom I loved so dearly, for in fact the similarities were quite extraordinary.

  For what seemed to be several minutes, the girl but sat with her hands folded upon her lap, staring into my eyes with great intensity. I must confess that I felt more than a trivial amount of discomfort at this; however, uncertain as to the reason the girl had wished to see me, I waited with patience for her to speak. At length she broke her silence, and I was in total amazement, for the girl began to recount as much as she could remember concerning her life and experiences, from her furthest memory to the moment I had liberated her from that horrible iron coffin.

  It was not so much that she had wished to share these memories with me that had taken me aback, but rather the memories themselves that were of the most amazing nature. For you see, that which she reported to me were the very memories of my dear Ophelia! So complete they were that I was reminded of many events in my life related to my sister I had all but forgotten until that very moment as each past experience was recalled to my mind.

  I could not fathom as to how this could be, yet, without error, each event was recounted just as I had remembered it in the past, whether long ago or in recent days. When questioned on this matter, the girl said she knew none of what she had told me until the moment of our first contact within the temple, for at that instant all these things she had related to me had come upon her at once, and in that same moment she felt that she had become part of me, yet knew not how or in what manner. I marvelled at all these things and therefore was strengthened even more in my resolve to discover the answers to the many perplexing questions that had been presented to me since the beginning of this grand adventure.

  We continued our conversation at great length until it took upon itself an air of reminiscence, and for a brief moment I imagined that the girl who sat before me was not an unknown stranger rescued but a short time ago from the grasp of a man intent on some unknown evil purpose, but my dear departed Ophelia, returned to me by some strange magic or science, the difference for which, at this moment I could not discern.

  After some time, the exact amount I could not say, it occurred to me that still I did not know the girl’s name. I am rather ashamed at how I could have overlooked such an obvious thing, but overlook it I did. Upon asking her name I was met with a response I am not certain I had been expecting, for her answer came quick and simple.

  “I do not know,” she replied.

  Again I could not understand how it could be that this girl had come to find herself confined as it were in a steel casket, the origin and purpose of which remained a mystery, still knowing all that there had been to know concerning my sister, yet had no name for herself. The answers would come in due time, as all truths are revealed after a fashion; however, I must be quite honest, my curiosity caused me to become more and more anxious to discover the truths behind these riddles that had been presented to me as of late.

  The girl remained with me well into evening, and although I did not wish to leave her side for even a moment, I found it necessary to retire, for the events of the past three days had quite worn upon me, and I felt my mind wandering, though I was yet absorbed within the company of the girl, to and fro. Thus I saw her to her quarters and promised I would return in the morning and continue our visitation, a notion which she seemed to be quite joyful over. There were no doubts that a strong connexion was forming between us, but as to its precise nature I was still somewhat uncertain.

  I spent the next morning once again with the girl, and after much discussion concluded that it was not practical to continue referring to the latest guest of the Stratos as “the girl,” so I thought it proper she should be allowed to select a name for herself and offered to her this suggestion. At the moment I had no idea the implications this gesture would present. For when asked how she would like to be called, her answer quite set me off my feet.

  “Ophelia,” she said, for it was that name alone from within my mind to which she felt drawn.

  Although it was somewhat of a shock to me, I could think of no other name that would be more fitting. For in every manner she was very much like my dear sister in countenance and behaviour. I wondered how Father would receive “Ophelia”; however, given the condition of his heart, I had no doubt Ophelia would be accepted into open arms as though she were my actual sister and Father’s actual daughter. How could he resist her, for in most every way she was as like my sister as any person could be? It was a rather odd position, but one I found myself becoming more and more thankful for every moment we spent together.

  As the day aged into afternoon, we found ourselves standing on the open deck of the Stratos, enjoying the cool air and clear skies, travelling at a lower altitude than usual and finding no threat within our vision spanning horizon to horizon. It was a marvellous time, and being a mere several hours away from the Cape lent to the anticipation of reaching our destination and setting foot upon welcoming and familiar ground at journey’s end.

  Drawing near to our destination, however, an ominous sight met our eyes for, at first squinting and soon thereafter in full view, we espied a large column of thick, dark smoke rising into the air. I was filled with dread and feared the worst. I had imagined some catastrophic event had perhaps befallen the air base; however, when we reached close to our destination I realized that the smoke we had witnessed was coming not from the base but from the Royal Observatory. Indeed a great catastrophe had struck, for the whole of the building from top to base had been destroyed by a great fire, telescope and all!

  Chapter VIII

  IN WHICH EDGAR IS TOLD AN EXTRAORDINARY TALE AND HOW THE MECHANISM IS DECIPHE
RED BY AN UNEXPECTED ACQUAINTANCE

  It was quite easy to see the charred and still smouldering remains of England’s greatest scientific achievement from our vantage point, for the observatory lay but a few miles south-east of the base. The destruction of the Royal Observatory was a great loss indeed, for when in operation the telescope housed therein was well able to view and track even the most distant of celestial bodies within our modest neighbourhood of planets. Its lenses, finished to the most precise standards, allowed the device to see even the finest details of Earth’s moon and even view the valleys, mountains, and other fine features upon the surface of the red planet, Mars.

  To see the observatory in such state saddened me a great deal, for with so great a loss I feared that such tremendous expense and effort would not be afforded a second time and would indeed prohibit reconstruction or, if reconstruction were considered, would result in a second observatory that would be of far less magnificence than the former. A great pity indeed that such a marvel had been lost to misfortune alone.

  You could imagine my anxiousness at greeting our friend Mr. Herschel and determining the state of his well-being and personal comportment, for the role that he filled at the observatory and the discoveries which came out of it were no small part of Herschel’s life. To lose a thing of such import would without doubt affect his life and career in the sciences a great deal. Of this I was quite sure.

  As the Stratos moored atop the air base tower, I was informed there would be a brief detainment of those aboard so as to give a report concerning the incident and actions of the previous days' encounters. This troubled me somewhat, as I was eager to converse with Herschel and also due, in no small part, to my account concerning Ophelia and how it should be explained that a girl who resembled my departed sister in almost every manner had been discovered in a temple that in all probability had remained abandoned and undiscovered for more than a few centuries.