The Sunken (54 page)

Lastly, the widespread occurrence of dirigible flight has been altered dramatically. All these decisions were not made lightly. Nicholas’ world called for these divergences and each was necessary to create the story and anchor the setting. I did not lead you down a false path. I am a spinner of tales. I hope you have enjoyed this one.

S C Green

James Holman’s Memoirs — Unpublished

Aaron said he would write in his first week in the swamps, but warned us we may not receive the letter for some time. After two weeks, Nicholas commented he’d been checking with the post office twice a day. After four weeks, he was concerned, and after eight weeks with no word, we both wrote worried letters inquiring after him and mailed them off to his contact, but still we received no reply.

So, I felt a great deal of relief when the housekeeper delivered to me a letter. I had hoped it would be from Aaron, but as I turned it over and felt the crossed gauge nails that formed Brunel’s official seal, my heart leapt in excitement.

The letter had been written using the raised, punched code Nicholas and Aaron had developed. They must have shown it to Brunel. The letter stated His Holiness the Lord Protector and Messiah of Great Conductor Sect was most looking forward to meeting with me on my next trip to London.

I turned the letter over, and read it again, just to be certain I had not mistaken the message. What could the Metal Messiah possibly want with me?

With my walking stick tap-tap-tapping on the ground I wound my way through the narrow streets toward the Chimney. Since I’d last visited, the Ward had become even more crowded, as engineers flocked from all over the country, all over the world, to acquire one of Brunel’s Boilers and seek their fortunes amongst London’s industrial elite. On every street corner, scientists and natural philosophers extolled this or that theorem. “Banish your boils!” yelled one, trying to herd me inside his church. “Heal your blindness!” cried another, waving a foul-smelling concoction under my nose.

And everywhere, priests of the various sects bustled past, their strides confident, full of self-importance, their thick robes trailing along the cobbles. Metics, Morpheus, priestesses of Isis, even some Dirigires in their leather flying costumes … I could hardly tell them apart, for all their clattering.

Despite the cacophony of the crowds around me, I found the Chimney with ease. The great steel face loomed overhead, dominating the Ward and casting a great shadow over the streets below. As I neared its giant iron entrance, sounds around me changed, the echoes morphed by the huge presence of the Chimney. I ascended the wide stone steps and braced my shoulder against the heavy door, which swung inward on an internal spring, barely requiring any effort at all.

Not being a time of service, the Nave sounded deserted, save for a few mumblings of the priests tending the altar. I found myself a seat on the left of the aisle, fumbling for the hands of my pocket watch. I was a few minutes early, so I leaned back and waited for the Metal Messiah to arrive.

“Welcome, James. “

I jumped. He’d either been waiting behind me with the specific purpose of startling me, or had entered the room so silently I hadn’t heard him. Either option made me uneasy.

“I’m sorry to startle you so. I was so deeply engrossed in these mathematical designs sent down from Charles Babbage’s office, I’m afraid I didn’t even hear you enter. You must think me frightfully rude.”

“Oh, not at all. It’s my pleasure to meet with you again, Isambard.”

“It’s always a pleasure in the company of old friends.” He laughed. “I knew when I saw you driving that getaway carriage you’d be the right man for this job.”

I rose and extended my hand, and he clasped it in his, tracing my knuckles with his cold fingers.

“You’ve created a beautiful retreat for the mind within these walls,” I said, nervously, wishing to fill the awkward silence.

“I often enjoy sitting in this lofty room when a sermon isn’t in session. The sense of space around me and the rhythmic cadence of these priests soothes the aches and pains of the workshop.”

“Forgive my ignorance, Your Holiness, but you spoke of a job. Is this why you called me here today?”

He leaned forward, his hand brushing against the back of my hair. “You always did yearn to travel,” he said, by way of introduction. “I remember well how you devoured the journals of great adventurers, memorising their escapades and planning how you might cope in similar situations. Tell me, has the loss of your eyes quieted your dreams of adventure?”

“I must confess that it has not,” I said. “But they must remain just that — dreams. As a Naval Knight of Windsor, I’m expected at the castle for the twice-daily ordeal of climbing one-hundred-and-thirty-eight steps to attend mass. My last application for leave on medical grounds was declined.”

“Why do you not simply quit the Naval Knights and travel as you please?”

“I am still a blind man, Your Holiness, subsisting on an officer’s half-pay and a small stipend from the Naval Knights. Without the salary afforded to me I could not fund travel, or indeed even feed or house myself, and I refuse to resort to begging.”

“Ah.” I heard the smile in his voice. “Then I think you and I can help each other. I need a job done, and I think you’re just the man for it. I had ordered the Stokers to send me living specimens of various species from the swamps, but, apart from a splendid dragon they sent some months ago, all they’ve managed to send so far are a few piddling reptiles and two mangy birds, which proved useless for my needs. I am unsure if Aaron’s presence will bring forth greater results, but I wish to search further afield. I need someone to travel across Russia and through Siberia, alone, and bring me back a selection of specimens. I have made arrangements and prepared detailed descriptions of the specimens, but finding a man willing and able to undertake this mission has proven a hard task indeed. When I saw you at the reins of that carriage, I realised you’d be the perfect man for the job.”

“Siberia?” I could hardly contain my excitement.

“I realise the danger involved in attempting to cross the untamed continent. To follow some of the migratory paths you will need to gain access to Siberia via the Russian Tsar, and you will need to negotiate with many locals. I know you have the temperament and skill with languages to make this mission a success. Of course, you will be paid handsomely, enough to fund many years of travel and to set you up with your own residence in London.”

I leaned forward, heart racing. The offer seemed too good to refuse. I could complete Brunel’s job while making my way across the Russian continent. Then, once the last specimen was safely on board a vessel back to England, I could continue my circumnavigation of the world across the land bridge and into the Americas. With my own London residence bought and paid for, I would not need to seek permission from the Naval Knights.
I could quit the order of cantankerous men forever.

But it all hinged on my ability to complete the mission Brunel had set. “What kinds of specimens are we talking about? Will I be able to catch and transport them on my own?” I imagined myself swatting blindly at rare species of butterfly with a net attached to the end of my walking stick.

“No. You will need to hire teams of men in the villages. I will give you all the currency you require. I wouldn’t ask you to hunt yourself, of course, only to manage the teams of men who will trap the animals. I need them to reach England alive — this is paramount. The animals will travel by ship, so you’ll arrange for them to be sent under escort to the coast, where my ships will be waiting. With Buckland’s assistance, I’ve had the artist J.M.W. Turner make you some engravings of the species I require.”

He dropped a stack of metal plates on the table. I counted them gingerly — ten in all. Ten different species: a monstrous task. I picked up the first and ran my hands over the drawing.

I gasped. It was a creature the likes of which I’d never encountered before. Low to the ground, it appeared almost as a tortoise with a great shell upon its back, only the long, clubbed tail and spiked face gave away its true nature.

I held up the next engraving: a seven-foot necker with thick legs and a thin, whipping tail. Another showed an incongruous herbivorous dragon with a great crest atop its head. I studied them in turn, each more monstrous than the last. Turner had listed the measurements on each drawing: four feet tall, nine feet tall, twelve feet tall. Stunned, I set the stack back down.

“As you can see,” said Brunel. “It is not a delicate task I ask of you. What say you, old friend?”

My heart beat with a furious urgency, and my fingers tingled at the possibility of finally setting off on an adventure. I thought of those great monsters I would be charged with trapping and transporting to the shore, but my stomach sank a little. But I knew, despite the danger, what my answer would be.

“I am at your service, Messiah.”