Were I to be the questioner in this particular situation, I imagine I would find most every aspect of the report I had intended to give to be most unbelievable. So it was with some trepidation that, once the Stratos had been secured to its mooring, I found my way to the office of the commander of the base, the girl now under the watchful care of Chaplain Moreton, somewhat to my consternation, to present the happenings of the past several days, beginning with our departure from Dover.
Sitting across from base commander Brigade Major Gentry, after quite brief introductions, I recounted my tale concerning every event that had taken place since our departure from Dover, including the sabotage of the Stratos and my feelings toward the chaplain and how I had felt that somehow he had a part to play in the bringing down of the airship, mentioning also his disappearance into the jungles of the Congo while the remainder of the crew had been held in captivity by the Egyptian. I also related to the commander the events concerning the attack of the apes, our escape, and the discovery of Ophelia.
I continued my report, relating the tale of the odd habit the Egyptian had of climbing the stairs to the top of the temple each night to gaze at the stars while consulting some form of book or other, nor was I remiss in the recounting of Kokuo’s role in our captivity and our escape, noting in particular his courageous actions concerning the defence of our retreat within the passages beneath the temple, for fear that his sacrifice and that of his men would be left unrecognised.
Upon completion of my tale, Brigade Major Gentry sat expressionless, showing no sign of disbelief, belief, or any other emotion that should have been expected otherwise. It was as though I had done nothing but inform him that I had stopped at the corner shop upon returning from mass on no particular Sunday afternoon. I was sure that he must have thought me rather mad; nevertheless, save for his scrawling of notes concerning the details of my account, he sat motionless and showed no indication that he thought anything of me at all, mad or otherwise.
At some length the commander spoke and asked for a description of the Egyptian, requesting I leave no detail out regardless of its perceived insignificance, which I did to the best of my recollection. I was then excused without further word or discussion. I must note that, despite feelings of guilt, I gave no mention of the device entrusted to me by the captain for I thought, should rather say “felt,” the execution of his charge was a matter which needed to be carried out, at least in part, with some secrecy. Once I had delivered the device to Herschel, I would report back to the captain, if he were to be in a condition to hear, that the task had been completed. I would then wash my hands of the matter and carry on as before.
As I left the commander’s office I chanced a meeting with McNeil, as he was about to enter to give his report as well. I inquired after Ophelia and was told she had been assigned quarters here on the base and all was well with her. I was much relieved to hear this news and informed McNeil of my wishes to meet with Herschel as planned. Seeing no reason that I should remain further at the base, my report having been given, he bade me good afternoon and I was off to the residence of our good friend John Herschel. The observatory and living quarters associated with it were but a short distance from the base; thus I decided I would walk, rather than hire a coach, to the observatory.
The weather was as fine as one could ask for as I made my way to the observatory, or to be more precise, Herschel’s residence located adjacent to the observatory. There would be opportunity to visit the site of the blaze in due time; however, for the moment, I wished to speak with Herschel before beginning my investigation to perhaps offer some consolation. A catastrophe such as this would no doubt have great impact upon his career as an astronomer, and I wished to help him in his predicament in whatever manner I could, even if it were but a few reassuring words from a long-standing friend.
Although the weather was somewhat cool, even for the shores of South Africa, I found myself warming under the afternoon sun. Stopping beside the road to take refuge beneath a small tree, I decided, having a strong sense of curiosity, that I would like to once again look over the mechanism that was to be delivered to Herschel, for now I had ample time to inspect it in leisure. Certain that no one was travelling the road with me, and being somewhat out of sight, I carefully removed the device from the bottom of my pack and examined it once more giving great attention to every detail.
In the full light of the sun I noticed, for the first time, a second series of markings, similar to the inscriptions I had discovered earlier. These letters, however, varied somewhat from the traditional Greek alphabet and raised in my mind a number of questions. Perhaps when shown to Herschel, whose remarkable intellect was in many ways far superior to my own, he would be able to decipher the writings and begin to reveal the secrets of the mysterious astronomical instrument.
Within a few moments, feeling a bit more refreshed and with a renewed sense of wonder concerning all that had taken place thus far, as well as the mystery surrounding the mechanism and my anxiousness to converse with Herschel concerning all I have mentioned, I returned the object to its place at the bottom of my pack, slung it upon my shoulder, and continued on to the observatory, where thick, dark smoke rising in slow, steady plumes could still be seen.
It was not long before I reached my destination: the residence of Mister John Herschel, astronomer and friend. I had no more than approached his small cottage when Herschel came bursting through the door out into the yard, wild excitement in his eyes. It was clear that the destruction of the observatory had him in a state of near frenzy, and without so much as a greeting he began, in near hysterical manner, to relate the tale of the burning of the observatory and how he believed that it was no mere accident, but perhaps an intentional act of sabotage.
It was not until Herschel informed me that the fire had started sometime the previous morning, a few hours before sunrise, that I became convinced he was correct in his suspicions. For at that time an observatory would be darkened with no evident source of open flame, which of course would all but be a required component in order to ignite such a blaze.
Herschel continued his tale, relating how he had been at the observatory late into the night studying a particular feature of the Moon, one of a number of craters to be precise, when he thought that he heard a noise just outside the observatory. He had paid it no mind and went on viewing lunar features until his pocket watch struck one when, as is his wont to do, he completed his notations, shuttered the observatory, extinguished the lights, and closed and locked tight the doors. He then told me it was without incident that he returned to his residence, a small house provided by the Royal Academy of Science, and prepared for bed for the night.
I questioned him for several minutes more until I was satisfied with the answers given, then, seeing that Herschel had relaxed somewhat, suggested we continue our conversation inside.
Once within the comfort of Herschel's parlour our discussion returned to the matter of the events of the previous night, now in a somewhat more composed manner. Herschel informed me that while at the observatory he had made a number of interesting observations in the night sky, the most exciting he claimed, was of that which he had described in the article written for the Edinburgh Journal.
Herschel, quite excited once again, although this brand of excitement was of the type which I had become accustomed to when in the presence of a person explaining the details concerning their particular passion in life, continued by stating that the telescope at the Cape of Good Hope was of such immense power that it could see far enough into the void of space as to be able to witness with ease even the finest of details of the moon’s landscape. A feat not achievable by the more commonplace telescope of the day.
He continued describing the many elements of the telescope, such as the size of the lenses, focal length, magnification, precision of adjustment, and all other manner of detail and mechanism that he thought I would find interesting or perhaps even useful were I to wish, which I indeed did, to investigate the matte
r with a further developed understanding of the intricate inner workings of the former observatory and the telescope that it once housed, making the assumption that it would be better to present a surplus of information rather than an inadequate amount, a practice in which I without equivocation agree.
Upon detailing the numerous specifications of the telescope our conversation returned, after a fashion, to the article which had been placed in the Edinburgh Journal referring to the strange flora, fauna, and unusual human-like beings that were found living on the Moon.
“It was quite remarkable, Edgar,” Herschel said. “I have never been witness to anything so astonishing as that which I have been privy to during my tenure here at the observatory.
“It is miraculous, I tell you. The creatures there are unlike anything I have ever seen before, as well as the men which reside there, if men they can be called, with wings of gigantic bats! Extraordinary, most extraordinary!”
I was quite curious about his observations and found the entire tale rather incredulous as, from my knowledge concerning the astronomical sciences, which I had studied of my own accord, life of any type upon the Moon’s surface would be quite impossible. My doubts concerning these claims must have been rather apparent to Herschel, for he now continued his tale in a rather urgent tone.
“Come, look,” he said. “I’ve sketched everything I have viewed through the telescope.”
Herschel led me to a small table upon which were spread a great number of illustrations depicting that which he had in such thoroughness described to me. I must confess the images upon which my eyes fell were quite remarkable indeed, and though I remained still rather sceptical, my fascination with the possibilities of such things could not be denied.
I also must admit, however, that I was not altogether impartial to his tale, for he had been an acquaintance of my father for a good many years and a firm, solid friendship had developed between the two and between Herschel and myself as well, though not as long-standing for the most obvious of reasons. Perhaps it was that friendship which had allowed a certain pellucidness to develop between us that granted me a clearer view into the truthfulness of the whole matter, for with intimate knowledge of Herschel’s character, the sincerity with which he spoke, and the truthfulness present within the light of his eyes, I found that it was altogether impossible for me to disbelieve.
“I fear, however, without proof all is for naught, for my standing in the world of science and astronomy is now in jeopardy. What I had hoped would become my greatest discovery will now be my downfall,” said Herschel.
I assured him his reputation would remain unblemished, for it was certain that Father would, once I had given him my report, make testament of his forthrightness to any who would question the authenticity of his findings and, if required, finance the entire reconstruction of the observatory from his own wealth so that he might prove to those who would doubt the truthfulness with which Herschel spoke concerning his discoveries.
Further, I repeated my promise to him that I would give my best attempt to discover the cause of the blaze and that I too would stand with Father in defence of his good character. Sensing Herschel’s anxiousness abating, I thought it a favourable moment to mention the device that Captain Bowman had requested I deliver to him, hoping the mechanism would serve as a distraction and perhaps also, through Herschel's inspection, satisfy my curiosity concerning the mysterious object.
This in no small way piqued his curiosity; therefore, I decided to show Herschel the device and ask for his analysis about the nature of the mechanism, the writings upon it, both those that were familiar to me as well as those which seemed rather esoteric. I also wanted to know how he felt the captain had come into possession of it and why, if he were able to tell me, it was entrusted to my care, a person with whom the captain had but a few short days prior become acquainted.
“Would you care to examine it?” I asked.
“I’d very much like to examine it indeed,” he said. “However, I am not familiar with a Captain Bowman,” he added.
As he looked on I withdrew the object from my pack and handed it to him, watching him all the while as he turned the machine over numerous times. At some length he arose, walked to his desk, and retrieved a rather large tome which he then scrutinized at great length, turning the pages backward and forward at a rather rapid pace and scanning the words thereupon with intensity. Somewhat satisfied with his assessment of the device, its purpose and function, and its place of origin and construction, he returned to the table where he spoke at last, a puzzled expression upon his face as he concentrated on the object in his hand.
“It appears to be an astronomical device of sorts, not entirely unlike the spherical astrolabe, for the prediction of events,” he said.
“What sort of events would a device such as this be able to predict?” I asked.
“From the inscriptions I am able to decipher, this mechanism could be used to predict a great many occurrences, such as eclipses, the passing of comets, star positions, and planetary alignments hundreds if not thousands of years in advance.
“These markings here,” he continued, “are cuneiform, writing of the ancient Sumerians, which is thought to be the oldest civilization to develop written language, more ancient even than the Egyptian hieroglyphs.
“These markings, similar to our modern Greek, seem to describe the operation of the device; however, these other markings more primitive still, are in likelihood a precursor to an even earlier Mediterranean language. Perhaps the predecessor to what has become modern Greek,” Herschel said.
He turned the device over and pointed to another of the device's rings, where were displayed many symbols with which I was somewhat familiar, including phases of the Moon and a crude description of the more common of stars as are viewed in the night sky. Each symbol or group of symbols resided upon a ring which, when a knob protruding from the bottom of the sphere was turned, would align themselves in various patterns as would appear as one gazed upon them in the heavens. Adjacent to each ring, held stationary, was a small window that indicated the year in which a particular arrangement of planets and stars would occur as well as the month, day, hour, and exact minute, which we found quite remarkable.
It was lamentable Herschel could reveal no more to me, for his knowledge concerning the mechanism seemed to be limited; however, whether he knew more about the device and was averse to revealing the knowledge or was forthright in his ignorance concerning the operation and purpose of the mechanism, I could not tell, although I suspected that it was more of the latter. Herschel had no reason to deny disclosure, and although I trusted him without reserve, the entire encounter left me with certain suspicions which I determined to resolve, driven not by my unquenchable curiosity alone but by the need to settle the turbulence which had arisen in my gut since the onset of this adventure. There was more to the affair than had presented itself, and I quite intended to uncover the truth of it all to my satisfaction.
As we discussed other matters, the likes of which would be entertaining to none but ourselves, there came a light rap at the door of Herschel’s bungalow. A rather swarthy chap entered, and I must confess that I am greatly embarrassed to admit I believed the man to be Herschel’s apprentice upon first inspection. He introduced himself as Thomas Coleman, Herschel’s assistant, and had I not been informed otherwise, I would not have suspected this to be the case.
Coleman joined our conversation, and it became quite apparent he was a man of great intellect and a rather personable fellow as well, and although we were quite opposite in most every manner apart from our similar interests and dispositions, Coleman and I would form the strongest of friendships and after a time come to consider ourselves as brothers, a rather scandalous notion to most, but one which I embrace with whole-heartedness.
For the present I will suffice it to say that Coleman was every bit the intellectual equal of Herschel and in some areas of the sciences even surpassed his keen understanding. He was quite a remar
kable gentleman, and I consider myself the better for having met and later befriending the man as, matter of course, I would not in any outcome in which I could envision be here today without him, for it is not an exaggeration that I say I owe my very life to the man, a tale in which I shall regale you with in short order.
Spying the device which Herschel and myself had been discussing earlier that evening, Coleman made comment on its unusual design and construction and queried us as to what information we were able to ascertain from the writings and markings which were inscribed upon the device, and whether we had any other idea as to its use and purpose. We told him all that we knew and surmised concerning its function. All the while as we spoke Coleman sat, his eyes fixed upon the object as though disassembling the contraption with mental power alone, to gain a clearer understanding of the machine, which I've no doubt was indeed what he was doing, in an attempt to expose with precision the mysterious workings found within.
Coleman took the device from the table, speaking under his breath as he did so. It was evident that he had more than a passing curiosity of the machine, the reason for which would later become clearer to me. He then returned the object to the table in all but the exact location and position in which he found it and, bidding us good night, departed through the same door in which he entered returning, I conjectured, to his own dwelling just adjacent to Herschel’s.
As the night had grown long and dawn fast approached, I too bid Herschel good night, stating that I would return the following morning in order to begin my investigation of the observatory fire. Shaking hands, I departed for the base and as it was late into the night and there were no other lights about, save for the faint glow emitted from the window of Herschel's cottage, it was quite impossible to overlook the brilliance of the stars as they gleamed overhead in the night sky.
HAWTHORNE: Chronicles of the Brass Hand: Mystirio Astronomiki Page 11
