by Richard Dee
Then there was the accident, at just after ten in the morning, just as production was in full swing and the room was full of workers. Nethersole said that he had just left the room, closing the door behind him. He was praised in the report for doing so; the damage had been contained by the doors. There was evidence stating that they were often left open to improve ventilation in the room.
There was a knock at his door, interrupting his reading. “Are you coming to the Gymnazien?” called Capricia.
“No not tonight, I have things to study,” he replied. He heard her walk away and turned back to read on.
The next section listed the dead, with graphic descriptions of their injuries. Jackson skipped this part. They were dead, they were mostly known to him. He didn’t want to learn how many pieces they had been cut into by flying steel and leather.
Then he came to the conclusions.
The findings were that the inspection regime was lax. Nethersole escaped severe censure by claiming that Jackson’s father had been trained by him and had assured him that he was able to inspect the shaft. Even so, it had been suggested that such important work should be better supervised in future. Clynes had accepted full responsibility for the failures and had resigned. To Jackson, it seemed that Nethersole had come out of it the best, indeed had he not taken over the company?
Jackson was shaking when he turned the final page, much had been explained in the stark language of officialdom, but he could not accept that his father had been solely at fault. He was convinced that Nethersole had used him as a means to avoid disciplinary action for his own neglect.
Then he had a terrible thought. What if Nethersole had engineered the whole thing? He had much to gain, he had got control of the factory by it. Perhaps, and this was the worst thing, he had made the problem and shut the door on it, knowing he had the perfect alibi.
Even thinking that was too much. He had not liked Rodney Nethersole when they had met. He had become annoyed by Jessamine’s flirting; the thought of his interest in her repulsed him. Knowing, or suspecting what he might have done made him feel very angry. He had to work off his anger somehow.
Despite his earlier excuses, he headed for the Gymnazien. He felt the urge to hit something, hard and repeatedly. If the others noticed his anger, they left him to assuage it.
Instead, their talk was all about the seriousness of the situation. “This is so much more than we normally deal with,” opined Alyious. “A madman bent on world domination, and we are the ones to stop him. The tales of the carriages falling from the sky were horrific, to think that any person could do such a thing, to his own countrymen.”
Vyner punched him. “Don’t be so dramatic, Alyious,” he said. “’Tis just another one of the regular scares, we are always stopping madmen bent on world domination.”
“Speak for yourself, gangs of pickpockets bent on world domination maybe,” said Mularky. “That’s about as exciting as my life ever gets.”
“Only because that’s all you can cope with,” suggested Winifred. “Does the time we spend together not excite you then?”
At that point Mularky looked embarrassed and everyone else started laughing. “I must admit to enjoying stalking Winstanley,” she added. “It made a fine change from snaring errant husbands with a head full of secrets and weak wills.”
“Why then is Langdon so involved?” asked Jessamine. “When else has he taken control of things from Fairview? We normally only see him when it’s time to take the credit.”
“Or give out the blame,” added someone and there was more laughter.
“We must go,” said Alyious as he heard the clock strike nine. “Clarry and his boys have been watching the players for us; we need to find what they have been about.”
Everyone departed leaving Jackson alone with Capricia. She had that look in her eye, the one that made him nervous. Pleading tiredness, he left her for his bed.
Chapter 17
Next morning, Langdon was again present when everyone made their reports. And it was clear from his demeanour that he was not a happy man.
“I have been in early meetings with ministers of the crown,” he said. “They have accepted my view that this Rodney Nethersole might present a serious threat to the security of the nation. Even if all he can do is stop a few limbs working or derail an aerialway car, panic will spread if it becomes known that he is orchestrating mayhem. Action must be taken before he can reveal himself to the populace or do anything worse. I have been told that, should he be allowed to continue, then heads will roll, mine being first.” He looked at the group. “Let me hear your news.”
Alyious spoke first. “We left here at nine to take over from Clarry. Nethersole left the factory as usual, with Winstanley and the Professor in tow. Winstanley left them in town, so we split up, Vyner and I followed Nethersole and the others followed Winstanley.”
“We will get to Winstanley later, what of the main players?”
“Rodney and the Professor went to a club, the Gavan, in town, where we assume they dined. Later in the company of two women, who they must have met inside, they went to Rodney’s house in the suburbs. We were prepared to wait overnight and follow him back this morning. However, at around an hour before the middle of the night, a mobile pulled up and they all left in it, together with luggage.”
“What did you do then?”
“I followed at a distance, via a mobile, whilst Vyner stayed to see if they would return. In the end, they went to the rail and took the overnight service to Stynehouse, driving their mobile on to the flat car.”
“We must assume that they were then to proceed to Hammerham, to the Nethersole estate,” said Langdon. “Are you sure they departed?”
Alyious nodded. “I watched them onto the Ryde and waited until it left, then I returned to pick up Vyner.”
“Well done,” said Langdon. “I think it safe to assume they have gone to the country. What of Winstanley?”
“He had several ales with associates,” said Mularky, “then went to the place where he keeps his charabanc. It was full of people, collected by his henchmen. There were women and children, a full load of fifty or more. He too set out from the city.”
“It seems as if everyone of importance has gone to his country estate, this may be a regular occurrence, it may be that we have disturbed his plans, we can’t be sure. In any event, we must follow him to see what he is doing, away from the city where there are fewer prying eyes.”
“Now that Nethersole and Winstanley are away, would that not be the best time to return to the factory, to search without fear of hindrance?” asked Fairview.
“That is part of my plan,” Langdon said, “and what I have proposed to the government. However, I do not trust them with all my intentions, for I know that there are some whose sympathies are, shall we say, questionable. What I have not told them, is that as well as searching the Prosthesium, I will be sending some of my agents to spy on the Nethersole estate.”
There was a rustle of excitement. “You,” he indicated Jackson and Jessamine, “are to go to Rodney’s estate in the country, see what you can find there.”
There were groans and mutterings of, “Why them.”
“They have been seen in the factory,” Langdon said. “The others of you have not. There will be someone left in charge. If they are recognised, they might be placed in danger.” He stood. “I must leave you now, I have business to attend. Mr Fairview will continue.”
Fairview had brought a rolled canvas map, which he now spread out on the desks. “Gather round,” he said. “This is all the latest information we have.”
The map showed the town of Hammerham and its surroundings. In the west of the country, the town was not connected to the Rail, the nearest station being at Stynehouse. It was at least a day’s travel away; even by mobile. The map showed the roads as unsealed and difficult to pass. The Nethersole estate was located a mile or so outside the town, near the waterfalls of Los, apparently a popular spot for trippers.
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“This is the reason for your visit,” Fairview explained, “you will be newly-wedded, on a working holiday.”
“Again?” said Winifred. “How is it Mularky and I are never newly-wedded? Why not marry them properly and have done with it?”
“We have no need for pretence with you two,” suggested Alyious. “You argue like you have been wed for years.”
Winifred persisted, “And why do they go? Nethersole knows who they are.”
“They are not to meet him, but they will know him, and the Professor, if they see them,” Fairview explained. “You would not.”
“I still don’t think it’s right,” she pouted.
Mularky nudged her. “Hush now, your point is made, you hate the countryside in any event.”
“If I may continue,” said Fairview acidly. “Thank you. As I was saying, you are newly-wedded. Jessamine, your father is a rich man, he is paying for your trip, but you have to do some work for him whilst you are away.”
“What is that?” asked Jessamine.
“Oh, nothing too onerous, but a good reason for you to stick your nose into corners and be inquisitive. You are seeking new markets for his journals, periodical publications that carry what are becoming known as inducements. All the details are in these notes, which you will have to memorise as quickly as you can.” He passed the pair some sheets of parchment.
Jackson quickly glanced at the papers; the story was believable and seemed easy enough to learn.
“Now attend to the map.”
They had a brief examination of the plans of the Nethersole estate as marked on the map. There was little information on the interior of their target, save that there was at least one large building behind the wall that encircled the estate.
“As you can see, the whole is surrounded by a high wall,” said Fairview, “and with the urgency of things we have not been able to get details of what might lie inside. You will have to discover as you go.”
“There is little to help us then,” said Jessamine, “no knowledge of guards or any hazards?”
Fairview admitted it was a hasty plan. “I’m sorry but no. Nor is there time for you to rehearse your identities. Normally, we would have a lot longer to get you both ready, but this thing is in danger of escalating beyond any control. Langdon thinks you are ready, Jackson, and Jessamine is an able companion for you. Remember your training and you will be alright. Your flight takes place just before fast-break tomorrow, you will be called early.”
“Did you say flight?” asked Jessamine. “Does that mean what I think?”
“Yes,” said Fairview. “Even though the expense is vast, you will go by flying machine. Tickets have been arranged and can be collected when you arrive at the Aero-field.”
This was exciting news, Jackson had seen the machines and longed to travel in one, now his dreams would become a reality. “Why fly?” asked Jessamine. “We normally go by rail and mobile.”
“Time is of the essence, in this case. Sir Mortimer is keen to get you to Hammerham as near to Rodney’s arrival as possible. We need to know what he does behind that wall, if that means spending money on flying machines, then it is a small price to pay, in the scheme of things.”
“Even so,” said Jackson, “flying is such a new thing, is it safe?”
Jessamine had an answer for that. “The rail is more dangerous, brigands still infest the lands, why do you suppose the Ryde has soldiers atop its carriages? At least in the air, we cannot be attacked, not even by Drogans anymore.”
“Six years ago,” Fairview said, “there were no such things as flying machines, the only flyers were balloonists, defending the land against the Drogans that still ruled the skies, the idea of controlled flight was still in the future. Now the Drogans have gone and it was man who had taken their place as masters of the air. We would be remiss not to utilise their gift to us.”
“So why have the Drogans disappeared?” asked Jackson. “When I was outside last, they were a force, we were in danger and the skies were patrolled by balloons and watch towers.”
“Now there is a tale, it is beyond the scope of this meeting, but since you ask, I will give you a summary. Jessamine can no doubt tell you more, it will pass the time on your way to Hammerham.” He cleared his throat. “No doubt you won’t have heard of Horis Strongman or indeed of Christoph Leash?”
“No, neither of them.”
“Well, Horis was a great man, he was the first for some time to learn the ways of the Fenesh, the means by which Drogan and human conversed. Folk in the countryside had a rudimentary way of communicating with the beasts but not the formality of the Fenesh, Anyway, Christoph, who was a criminal by the way, also learned the finer points of the Fenesh and found a band of renegade Drogans to command.”
Jackson remembered that someone had mentioned the Fenesh, was it not the basis of Oswald’s Lexiograph?
“How did he do that?” he asked. “As I remember, Drogans were contemptuous of humans?”
“He took their minds over, using the fact that he was the only one who could converse to tell them only what he wanted them to hear. They were angry at man’s arrogance and the destruction of their habitat. So they retaliated by defending themselves. Christoph offered them a more organised way of disrupting man’s life, which coincided with his dreams of wealth and power. It suited his purpose to have an army behind him, he had no interest in the plight of the beasts, just in his own advancement.
“Horis got involved in the argument, through his Drogan, the one that lived with him and helped him. The leaders of the government petitioned him to speak on the country’s behalf, to reach a deal with the Drogans. Through Horis, the false promises of Christoph were exposed to the Drogans he was controlling. They initially refused to believe that he was misleading them. After a lot of adventures, they came to see his falsehood and dealt with him. Then a treaty was agreed. It ceded them a group of islands off the coast. They are theirs to have as their own kingdom and guaranteed its safety forever. In return the Drogans, who only ever wanted peace and the ability to live as they wished, were to be left alone. Our navy patrol the seas around the island, keeping all away.”
“And what do the Drogans think of our flying machines?”
“Nobody knows, we have had no contact since the last ones left. That was the arrangement and we have kept our part.”
Jackson was interested in the story, he resolved to search in the library as soon as he had the chance; the idea of talking to any beast fascinated him.
~~~~
That was all of it, the group dispersed. Jackson and Jessamine went to his room to learn of the people they would become. They spent the next two hours discussing the story and Jackson learned again of the reach of Langdon. There was a genuine background to all of it, and a man who would vouch for them if asked. They were Mr and Mrs Draftman, the real name of Langdon’s associate, a cursory check would be unlikely to require more than that, at least that was the hope. As Fairview had said, it was a rushed plan, but plausible.
They practised talking of their imagined lives and the reasons for their visit to Hammerham until they had a way of bouncing the conversation between them that felt natural.
“Enough,” said Jessamine at last. “It’s almost time for sleep. You will need your wits in the morn. It’s best if you check you have everything ready before you retire. Take sufficient of everything for four or five days’ stay. Not the high fashion city clothes we wore to the factory, one good suit to travel in, the rest clean but practical this time. You recall, you need to wear your belt and keep your pack with you, the bulk of our supplies go into the hold of the flying machine, separate from us, should we need anything on the trip.”
“I know nothing of flying machines,” Jackson said. “To be sure I have seen them going over the orphanage, but when I lived outside, they were unknown, there seem to be so many requirements before travelling on one. And what of our gear might we need?”
“Who knows,” she said. “We mus
t be ever ready for threat. As for flying machines, they truly have been a sudden thing. From nothing to what they are today is a miracle to some, but of course, ether is much more to the story than that. Long before anyone was aware, flight was taking shape and being perfected by Ralf and his colleagues.
“Where? How was it kept secret?” asked Jackson, once again made aware that the general population was ignorant of the things that went on in secret in their own land.
“People in general never knew of the events at Northcastle,” she replied. “Of the tract of land owned by the government and fenced to keep folk away. Of the brave flyers who tamed the first craft, which were little more than flying gas tanks. Of the innovators like Ralf, whose ideas are even now leading the way.”
Jackson realised that she said the name with a raptured tone, as if he were some sort of deity.
“Ralf was the first to fly a plane from Northcastle to Metropol City, first to land a machine on a ship of the navy and so much more. What we will travel in today only exists because of him. Largely because so much was done behind the scenes, the science was proved before anyone was aware. Hence, we have a new thing appearing fully formed and few know the history.”
“I’ve never heard of this man Ralf. Does everyone else know all this?”
“And more,” she said. “Once the existence was admitted, the history came to be known. You have a lot of catching up to do, Jackson. Now I must leave you, I have my own packing to attend to, goodnight.”
Jackson packed his case and made sure that he had everything he needed. He lay down to sleep, although he could not. Six months ago, he had looked into the sky, on the night where everything had changed and had seen a flying machine. At that moment, if someone had told him he would soon be travelling in one, he would have laughed. But then, if he had been told that he could climb walls, or have a room to himself, they would have received the same response.
