by Richard Dee
It was an excellent plan and surely a trick that would not be expected. Jessamine saw the beauty of it. “With luck, they will assume we remain on board and pursue us to your next port, while we slip way.”
The Bosun smiled. “Exactly, it’s a ploy we have used in the past, in various foreign places, though never in Norlandia.”
Now there was hope that once again they could escape their pursuit, Jackson and Jessamine spent the afternoon watching the coast and the other vessels they passed. A mixture of sailing ships, with full canvas in the light winds they whispered past gracefully, there were fishing boats, followed by gulls and once a grey navy ship of war, bristling with guns and moving at impossible speed, white foam at bow and stern.
After another meal, it was time for bed. They excused themselves and made for the cabin. Once the door was shut, there was a moment of awkwardness. Jessamine went to the bathroom, leaving Jackson unsure of what to do. He turned the bed down and was hanging his jacket when he found the lace in his pocket. He had forgotten all about it. Surely, it would be an ideal gift for Jessamine; he could give it to her when she emerged.
The door opened, she stood there, a towel wrapped around her. “Jessamine, I have something for you,” he said, holding out the garment in his hand.
She stepped forward and let the towel drop as she took it from his hand. “Oh thank you,” she said, feigning surprise. She held it in the place it was to fit. “It’s beautiful. Would you like me to wear it for you?”
“For me?” Jackson savoured the words, for him; that meant she was his. “I would like that very much,” he managed to say.
“Then get you bathed,” she said, “and I shall await your pleasure.”
Jackson bathed himself in record time, when he came out, she was still stood in the light, this time the lace adorned her form. If anything, it made the sight of her more exciting than her nakedness.
That night was better than the first, there was less haste and deeper satisfaction; for both of them. And between times, they talked of a future together, the present situation was forgotten for a moment, all that was important was the love that was growing. Too soon it seemed, they felt the engine note change as the Esperance slowed and they knew that their sojourn was almost over.
Dressing, they made all their possessions ready for a swift departure to the hold. Then they stood on the deck, hidden behind the steam winches of the cargo derricks and watched as Bludmonger took the vessel between the breakwaters and into the port.
Compared to Port Lucas, Queinton was a bustling place with a vast expanse of docks and warehouses. The berth that they were destined for was at a place near the entrance gate. As they made their final approach and the first mooring lines were passed ashore, in the distance, they could see the terminus of the rail and their route home. The air was thick with smoke from Local and factory, they were leaving the country behind, getting back to the city, that much was plain by the lack of greenery. As they finished securing to the wharf, they saw a group of people lounging by the warehouse, pretending not to watch while the gangway was lowered.
“They could well be our foe,” said Jessamine. “Let us hope the plan works.”
They went inside to say goodbye to the Captain, and to thank him for his aid. He brushed aside their words. “Make sure you stop this madman,” he said, “that will be thanks enough. It seems the world is full of madmen these days. Now, get you to the hold and hide in the place Bosun has shown you. When the load is on the dock it will be taken by a cart to the warehouse. Wait in place until you hear the Char hooter; depart through the gate to freedom.”
He embraced them both. “Farewell,” his last word as they departed.
Keeping inside and out of sight, they took their things and went to the hold. There was no need for lamps, the hatch lid was opened and light enough to see clearly as they climbed into the space between the boxes. They held each other and as they looked up to daylight, there was the hook of the crane descending.
“Hold tight,” said the Bosun, as he attached it to the ropes that had been passed under the stack. “Safe journey,” he shouted. Then, “Haul away.”
With a rush they were airborne, holding each other tight as they rose through the air. The next thing they knew, they landed with a thump on the dock, the hook was released and the stack was lifted again by a steam cart’s forks. This part of the journey was a bouncing, juddering ride from the sunlight to the shadows inside the warehouse. They were unceremoniously dumped against a wall and left in peace. Hopefully, the first part of the plan had gone without a hitch. The swoop of the flight had been exhilarating, though they could see none of the reaction of their hunters. With luck they were still watching for them at the gangway. As they waited, other loads of crates were brought in and stacked around them, it would be impossible for them to be found now, just as long as they remained hidden.
When the hooter sounded, they heard the stevedores depart and waited five minutes. Then they exited their hiding place, clambering over the stacks of goods. The warehouse was deserted, they could see through the door the watchers, still intent on the gangway. Grinning, they left through the back of the warehouse and strolled through the dock gate; showing their disembarkation passes to the customs man, who wished them good day.
“I think we will be safe,” said Jessamine. “Let us head for the Ryde, you obtain our tickets and I will make the call to Langdon. We will meet again in the refreshment rooms.”
Jackson was on his second cup of Char when Jessamine finally returned from the speaker booths. He was starting to be concerned, even though they had avoided the watchers, they had always been found somehow, as if they had some sort of notice on them that they could not see.
She sat and he poured her a cup. She drank deeply. “Well,” she said, “that was an interesting call. There have been many developments since we spoke last, even though it had only been a few days.”
“Did Langdon tell you all of it? I was worried as to your whereabouts. I was beginning to wonder if you had been taken prisoner, if we had been spotted after all.”
“I have seen nobody suspicious and I’m sorry if you were alarmed.” She placed her hand on his. “It will all be well. I actually had little conversation with Langdon; he said he would brief us when we returned. Most of my time was spent waiting in line. There are sailors everywhere; some navy ship must have arrived after months at sea. Crews will be changing. Everyone must wish to talk to their families. The throng will help to hide us.”
“We will arrive in the city before supper,” he said. “With nothing to do, I looked at the timetable.”
“Langdon knows that we keep attracting attention. I told him that every time we think we are clear, someone finds us. He said that it’s either bad luck or we have been followed. I can’t see how we could have been followed; in any event, we are being met at the terminus.”
The news was a comfort, presumably there would be a squad of soldiers or similar to meet them on their arrival in Metropol City. Once under their protection, they would finally be safe from Rodney.
Jessamine looked up at the station timepiece, she drained her cup. “Come on, Jackson, we have only a few moments, we mustn’t miss the Ryde.”
As they hurried across the concourse towards the ticket barrier, Jessamine looked at every individual. Most of them seemed to be in the navy uniform of dark green. There were families, wives, parents and children. “They can’t all be conspirators,” Jackson reminded her, “and besides, they are looking for us at the ship. Even if Rodney had mobilised an army, he can scarce watch everywhere, all of the time.”
“You are right,” she said. “Most of our followers can be explained. There is no mystery, just a fanatical organisation.”
“One which we will destroy,” he added.
They showed their tickets to the attendant and were permitted onto the platform. They had to push their way through a throng of sailors and their wives, all goodbyes and damp eyes. Small children clutched a
t their fathers’ legs, as if that could prevent them leaving. Then there were the greetings, rushing together and shouts of joy at reunion. Jackson could feel the emotion in the place, happy and sad all mixed together. He had a sudden thought, what if the device he had seen was turned on here? Would all emotion drain away, as it had in the ranks of folk he had seen at the farm? How would the place feel then, to the unaffected?
The crowds made it quite impossible for anyone to get close to them. They boarded the carriage in a wave of humanity and were forced to stand; every seat was instantly taken.
On time to the second, the Ryde jerked into motion and set off. There was one stop scheduled, at the naval barracks of Whitehouse, no doubt after that they would be able to sit. “I will go and see if there are any seats further along,” suggested Jackson.
“Let us go together,” Jessamine said, since their night of passion, she had become closer to him and was unwilling to leave his side. Jackson viewed this as a good thing, for one he was hoping that what had happened on the Esperance would be repeated at regular intervals, for another, it made him feel good to know that she wanted to be close to him. Her admission of her past actions had done nothing to change his mind about how he felt; she said that it was business and he accepted that.
They walked the whole length of the Ryde, every seat was full, and they had to push past many people all engaged on the same search. In the end they gave up and stood in the corridor at the end of a carriage to wait for the exodus at Whitehouse.
The line followed the coast and the views were spectacular. To one side the sun-sparkled ocean, to the other the hills and fertile valleys of Norlandia. Harvest was approaching, the fields were heavy with grains, the trees full of fruits. They saw the steam-powered machines that Norlandia had pioneered; strung out ready to reap and thresh, together with the men preparing to capture the land’s bounty before winter’s grip. Then the Ryde turned inland, the rail ran alongside the roadway and after an hour or so they passed through a small town, without stopping. “That was Lakesedge,” Jessamine said.
“I saw it on the map when we purchased our tickets,” agreed Jackson. “That means Whitehouse is nigh.”
At Whitehouse the throng descended, the Ryde was now empty, save for a handful of civilians. A few more folk boarded, nodding greetings.
“There appears to be nobody interested in us,” Jessamine remarked as they finally took seats and set off again. Yet they could not relax and watched the doors for anyone coming into their carriage. After they had crossed the Leopold Bridge, which they had seen from the air only a few short days ago, the fields and orchards were replaced by the signs of mechanisation. The towns became closer together and the air started to darken from all the coal-smoke that modern civilisation produced.
Shortly after, they reached the outskirts of the city and slowed to negotiate the points as more and more lines converged on the terminus. Eventually, a platform appeared beside them, the great arched roof of glass and metal loomed over their heads, blocking out the late afternoon sunlight and they wheezed to a halt. No sooner had the Ryde stopped than they rose to disembark. As they reached the platform, Jackson saw something that made his blood run cold.
“Look, there,” he said, grabbing Jessamine’s arm. “That is one of the boxes that I saw on the wall. That man must be one of Rodney’s henchmen.”
Jessamine looked and could see a man dressed in a topcoat and hat, with the wooden box around his neck on a strap. He was looking at them and appeared to be talking into the trumpet on the top of the box.
Langdon appeared by their sides. “Welcome back,” he said embracing Jessamine. He shook Jackson’s hand and saw his expression. “What’s amiss?” he asked.
“We are followed,” said Jessamine, “although how I cannot say. Over there is a man with the box we see everywhere that there is mischief.”
“Is that the box you were talking about in your speaker message from Port Lucas, before we were cut off?”
“The same, there is a lot to explain, we can tell you what it does, maybe Oswald can explain the how, and if he can stop the owner from using it.”
“Once we can shake off your tail.”
“Which had proved impossible so far.”
Jackson was about to explain the apparent function of the box when Langdon saw it for himself. There was the sound of stamping feet. A phalanx of people had formed up, all blank faced, just as the ones at the estate had been. They stared at the three, then as one, they started towards them.
“Come on,” said Langdon, his face initially shocked, then his usual calm demeanour took control. “This is what I was feared of,” he said. “An escalation. Your message was not a complete surprise. It is fortunate that I have a plan in place. Come with me and stay close.”
At a fast walk they went through the barrier and out of the terminus. Jackson looked over his shoulder; the followers were twenty yards behind, coming as a group. They shoved people out of the way, children and women screamed. The ticket guard tried to stop them, he was overwhelmed. Still they came; a Watchman’s whistle blew, the signal for all Watchmen who heard it to assist. “Down here, there is a reception committee,” gasped Langdon as he led them through the lanes. They turned a corner, a blank wall stood in front of them.
“Have we gone wrong?” asked Jessamine.
“No,” Langdon’s voice was reassurance itself. “To the end. Wait and see.” They went to the wall and stood with their backs to it. The group came around the corner. “Take out your truncheons,” said Langdon; there was a volley of clicks.
“Now, if you please, Mr Fairview,” shouted Langdon as the last of their pursuers was caught in the dead end. Behind them a mass of men with Fairview and Clarry at its head closed off the entrance. The leaders were now in range of the truncheons and they rose and fell; whilst behind, the stragglers were attacked by Fairview’s men.
The attackers put up little resistance, merely pushed and shoved, blows rained down on them but whatever had been done to make them attack had also rendered them insensitive to pain. Most frighteningly, there was complete silence, broken only by the sounds of breathing and of truncheon on flesh. Finally, all were beaten to the ground and rendered unconscious.
“Did you see the man with the box around his neck?” Langdon asked Clarry.
“We did, he scuttled away as soon as he saw our intention,” replied Clarry. “We have given chase and hope to catch him. Hello, Jackson and Jessamine, you have had some adventures by all accounts, it’s good to see you again.”
Fairview and Langdon inspected the bodies; they found one who was more than merely unconscious. An old man, his face was gaunt and relaxed in death. “This poor wretch has expired,” said Fairview.
“There is no time for sentiment,” replied Langdon. “We must get the corpse back to Oswald. We need to find how he is being controlled.” He turned to Jackson. “Is this the same thing as you saw at the estate?”
Jackson nodded. “It is, we watched as the Professor used the box on his chest, the one I told you about. Just as the man on the platform was wearing. Aldithley spoke the word Lexis into it and the people obeyed him.”
“This is another pieced of the puzzle then, there have been developments while you have been on your holidays, but now you must get back to work. Let us return to the orphanage, we will have a meeting with all parties, information can be shared, a plan agreed.”
Leaving Fairview and Clary to search for the man with the box, the rest set off for the orphanage.
Chapter 28
Later that evening, they were all seated in the cellar room at the orphanage. Langdon brought them up to date on the events since they had departed for Hammerham. Char and pie had been served and eaten. Oswald was preparing to examine the corpse, which had shared their journey in the luggage space of Langdon’s mobile. The journey was taken in stunned silence, the presence of the corpse and the shock at the attack were still raw.
“Oswald has been busy, whilst you were a
way,” Langdon informed them. “He has found that the crash of the aerialway was caused by at least one of the control boxes being switched off. We have only recovered one from the wreckage and under examination it revealed a cartridge in the workings. Oswald opened it and found that it contained one of your filaments, just like the ones we have already seen.
“And there have been other incidents,” he added. “A boiler in a Local exploded. The blast was contained but a good part of the city was without steam for two days. An Exo went berserk and attacked a crowd, before being toppled. Again, cartridges were found in the wreckage, in places where they could disable the safety mechanisms.”
“We saw a news-sheet in Port Lucas, the news of the accident to the aerialway has reached the provinces,” said Jessamine. “But there was no suggestion of malign influences,” added Jackson.
“Neither will there be, for the time,” Langdon said. “The government does not want to start a panic, it’s one of the few things everyone in the corridors of power agrees on, as you will learn. Privately, they are getting concerned. I’ve been agitating the ministers to round up Nethersole and all his henchmen. There has been resistance in the city, more of that later; in the country, we have had some success. The army have visited Nethersole’s estate in Hammerham, they sent a message to the local Watch to warn of their arrival but when they deployed, they found that the whole estate was deserted.”
“The Watchman, Silas somebody; he was Nethersole’s man,” said Jessamine. “We saw him in the place when we found Aldithley controlling his private army.”
Langdon shook his head. “I advised the commander not to advertise his arrival to the local watch. It’s unlikely that this Silas warned Nethersole, I will explain why in due course. A pity we never captured him, we may have learnt much.”
