Journey to the Heart of Luna

by Andy Frankham-Allen

  The Hooky, as Nathanial believed the leading hand was colloquially known, gently guided Nathanial down the companionway to the door which led inside the great battleship. Distantly, behind him, he heard Captain Folkard issuing orders.

  “Get these bitter ends tied together. The men on the Zeus are standing by with the professor’s luggage, not to mention my own bag. And be quick, I do not trust these winds.”

  Nathanial stepped inside the Sovereign, and looked around. A corridor led aft and forward. A thick-set man in lieutenant’s uniform stood there, and saluted the captain as he entered behind Nathanial. Folkard returned the salute.

  “It is agreeable to see you again, Lieutenant Bedford.”

  “And you, sir.” Bedford addressed the leading seaman. “See that the door is secured once Professor Stone’s luggage is safely aboard.”

  As Bedford gave his orders, Folkard stepped up to Nathanial, who remained by the door, looking out at the dirigible which seemed so small now. “How are you holding up, Professor?”

  “I…” Nathanial shook his head. “Surprisingly well, Captain,” he said, turning to Folkard with a smile. Although his legs felt a little weak, all in all Nathanial felt quite exhilarated by the little adventure. “But I fear my hat will fair less well.”

  “Quite so, your hat is by the board now.”

  “It was a gift from Edwin, that’s my youngest brother, when I left London,” Nathanial said. He made a note that he would surely have to replace the hat before returning home. Edwin would be most displeased to learn his favoured brother had lost the gift he had taken so long to save up for. Nathanial gathered himself together, pleased by the look on Folkard’s face. The man seemed surprised. “Yes, Captain, I believe you misjudged my character.”

  “Indeed, you are quite the bully trap, sir. I am willing to be proven wrong if it benefits the mission ahead.”

  A compliment. “I thank you, Captain; I hope to remain a source of constant surprise to you.”

  “Yes, I think you will.” That said, the captain looked away. “Lieutenant, would you please show our guest to his cabin?” he asked of his second-in-command, then looked back at Nathanial. “We shall dine after a banyan, and then we shall discuss the mission ahead.”

  “Very good, Captain Folkard,” Nathanial said, wondering what was meant by a banyan. He supposed he would have plenty of time to learn all the naval terms, after all, even with the power of the Sovereign at Folkard’s command, it would still take the best part of the day before they reached Luna. Folkard offered Nathanial his hand, which he gladly accepted.

  “Welcome aboard HMAS Sovereign, Professor Stone,” the captain said with a smile. Although there was humour behind it, for the first time since they had met it seemed the captain was no longer mocking him.

  Perhaps they would grow to be friends after all, Nathanial considered, as Bedford approached to lead him to his appointed cabin.

  Chapter Two

  Journey to the Moon

  1.

  EXCERPT 2.

  “Beyond the Inner Worlds: The Journal of Professor Nathanial Stone” (Published July 2011, by Chadwick Press.)

  Saturday April 13th, 1889.

  I never truly believed this day would come; certainly I never courted such an event. I suppose my work, and my presence here now, puts me alongside the pioneers who brought us into the aether in the first instance. It has barely been twenty years since Edison built that first aether flyer, and to think of all the advances in that time. I have grown up in a world where travel in the infinite vastness of space is a reality, and yet when I was born it was barely a dream, the forum of those of the creative bent.

  Practical aether travel as we know it today all began with Professor Etienne Moreau, who in 1860 hypothesised that the aether, like the matter and energy throughout the universe, was not evenly distributed. If it was instead affected by its interaction with matter, it might be distributed in vortices, thin patches, and even compacted clumps. He also theorised that interaction of matter, energy and aether indicated that it was possible for each to be used to manipulate the other. Just as matter could be burned to release energy, and energy expanded to move matter, so could matter be used to grip or grasp the aether, and energy used to manipulate it.

  Thomas Edison, an American inventor, fell into discussions with Moreau about his theories, and through these discussions it was Edison who devised a practical use for the luminiferous aether. Its nature suggested to Edison a device which could sail at speeds heretofore undreamed of. But this prototype hit a problem; it could not overcome the atmosphere. Edison communicated this problem to Moreau, and further tests with small models showed that the device would only operate properly at an altitude of 24,000 feet or higher. In 1868 Edison perfected his prototype and called it an aether propeller, a device that manipulated the aether by generating an electromagnetic field. He manned the first voyage himself, accompanied by the soldier of fortune, Jack Armstrong. Together they piloted their craft via hydrogen balloon high enough to enable the propeller to work, and from there they sailed the aether all the way to Mars. Unfortunately their landing on Mars was not smooth and their flyer was damaged, but fortunately the planet was inhabited. The two men spent over a year on Mars, learning the language of the natives, and were eventually provided with material to repair the flyer. They returned to Earth on August 7th 1870. Edison and Armstrong received fame and fortune, and within a year there was several dozen companies manufacturing Edison flyers, and flyers of several other nationalities were soon making frequent trips to Mars.

  These are the facts, how the aether age came upon us. Since then mankind has spread out among the inner planets, but due to the mechanics of aether travel they have not been able to find a way to travel beyond the asteroid belt and thus explore the outer planets. After all, it is by garnering the heat of the sun that enables the water to boil and thus produce the steam that powers the aether propeller.

  Despite my own intellect, I have never dreamed of visiting the planets; never has such a thing held sway in my imaginings. Even when I first heard from Grant at the beginning of last year I had no interest in aether travel, but the cantankerous old fool piqued my interest with his designs of a theoretical governor that could enable an aether propeller to navigate the airless surface of the moon. And, I suppose, it is true to say that I was a little enticed by the thought of becoming a peripheral part of the exploration of that, hitherto, uncharted world. I believe minor expeditions have visited Luna from time to time, but mostly the nations of Earth have sought out the more interesting “inner planets”. Except the Russians. I have heard talk of a missing Russian scientist…But I digress.

  For almost eight months Grant and I worked together, perfecting his initial design, but still I had no desire to actually venture into the aether itself, although it was inevitable that I would do so. After all, how could I work on this governor and then not witness it in action?

  Alas, as I have previously documented in this journal, that was not to be.

  Any thoughts of leaving the Earth died when I returned to British soil. Even when I was enlisted by William the thought of aether travel and I did not return. I was simply content to help the engineers at the dockyard work on designing the first aether battleship, improving on the governor design.

  And now here I am. In the aether. In less than five hours we shall be navigating the surface of Luna. Despite myself I cannot rest, even if Captain Folkard did insist I take a banyan, sleep is furthest from my mind. It is less to do with the anticipation of being in Luna’s orbit than it is to do with…aether travel.

  I am not, by any stretch of the imagination, a seasoned traveller. Terra firma is where I am most comfortable. I sit here on my cot, I believe it is called, in a cabin which I am sharing with several ratings. They are all hard at work throughout the ship now and I am alone. The Sovereign is a battleship and guest quarters do not exist. Clearly it amused Captain Folkard to billet me with the ratings, instead of allowing me
the luxury of an officer’s cabin. But I must not complain; I suffered worse when I was child. As I sit here, writing this, I am reminded of my journey to and from America, locked away in my cabin, feeling the ship move around me as it sailed the ocean. It was a long journey, both ways, and I was intensely ill both times. Although the “aetheric ocean” is quite unlike the oceans of Earth, many people have drawn a comparison between travelling the two. For one thing there is much less listing as we journey through the aether; I cannot feel the ship move around me, except for the slight vibration beneath my feet. And, although I fear I am not a swimmer by any means, I think would fair much better in water than I would in the emptiness of space. For that is all that surrounds me. And yet I do not feel nauseous as I did when I travelled to America; there is no tightening of my stomach, no overwhelming desire to deposit my breakfast onto the wooden planks that make up the floor.

  Perhaps I am finding my aether-legs in a way I was never able to find my sea-legs. If this is so, then maybe, just maybe, I am suited for aether travel after all.

  2.

  “WHAT DO you know of The Agreement Governing State Activities on Luna, Professor?” Captain Folkard asked, once they were all seated.

  Nathanial noticed a dark look thrown at Folkard by Lieutenant Bedford. Nathanial was not entirely convinced that such a look of annoyance suited the strong features of Bedford’s face. The captain seemed not to notice, or if he did he chose to pay it no mind. Nathanial mentally shrugged, and replied. “This would be The Luna Treaty? I believe it prohibits any one nation claiming rights to Luna, and prevents the establishment of any colony or research facility on the planetoid.”

  Folkard nodded. “Quite succinct, Professor. Over the past year we have become aware of an increased Russian interest in Luna, but the British Government, though concerned, have been unwilling to investigate. Luna has been of very little interest to the British Empire ever since Edison and Armstrong found their way to Mars.”

  “And now things have changed?”

  “Indeed. Perhaps you are aware of Vladimir Tereshkov?”

  Nathanial looked from Folkard to Bedford. It was quite clear that Bedford was not happy with the way this conversation was going, but he knew better than to question his captain in front of a guest. Now Nathanial understood why Folkard had dismissed the cabin boys once they had finished laying the captain’s table. The information about to be parted was not for the scuttlebutt. Clearly Folkard thought Nathanial needed to be aware of it, although the young scientist could not think why, and it appeared that the first officer was of the same opinion as Nathanial. Bedford was now looking at Nathanial with his dark piercing eyes. Nathanial held his eyes steely; there was something of a predator about Bedford, Nathanial thought, and he intrinsically knew that to show weakness would be a mistake.

  “I am familiar with the name, Captain,” he said, inwardly sighing in relief as Bedford looked away. “I believe I have heard talk of him. A Russian nastavnik of some repute, unless I am mistaken?”

  “Of some repute indeed. It will, no doubt, be of little surprise for you to learn that we have spies close to the Emperor and Autocrat of All the Russias.”

  “No surprise at all,” Nathanial agreed with a soft smile, “to learn Her Majesty’s Government has spies anywhere, Captain Folkard. Be it in the Russian courts or, indeed, in Arizona,” he concluded pointedly. This provoked a smile from Folkard, but only increased the frown on Bedford’s countenance. “Which is, of course, how I came to be conscripted to work at the Construction Yard in Chatham in the first place. British spies are quite good at what they do.”

  Folkard raised his glass. “A toast to British spies, may they continue to serve the Empire and be ‘quite good’,” he said, and sipped the port within. Both Nathanial and Bedford joined him in the toast, and once their glasses were back on the table, the captain resumed. “Tereshkov was working for the Russian government; in 1887 he was at the forefront of their research on precision modulation of the aether flow. I am no scientist myself, Professor, but I believe that you are familiar with such work? Similar to the experiments you helped Doctor Grant with, am I correct?”

  Nathanial nodded. “You are well informed.”

  “We need to be,” Bedford interjected, speaking for the first time since they had sat down to dine. “Forgive me, Captain Folkard, sir,” he continued, turning to his captain, “but I fail to see how all this will be relevant to Professor Stone’s role in our mission. His presence is merely to ensure that if we have any trouble with the propeller governor we have an expert on hand. The nature of our mission is of no concern of his.”

  Folkard sat there, resting his knife on the edge of his lip, the gravy dripping from it. Forgotten. He did not even blink; he merely listened as his first officer spoke. Once Bedford paused for breath Folkard raised an eyebrow. “Are you quite finished, Mister Bedford?”

  “No, sir, I…”

  Folkard carefully placed his knife back on the table beside his plate and rose to his feet. “No, Lieutenant, you are finished. And dismissed. Please return to the bridge and relieve the coxswain.”

  Nathanial swallowed, his eyes following Bedford as the gruff man stood. According to Bedford, when he had finally engaged Nathanial in conversation while escorting Nathanial to his cabin, the first officer had served with Folkard on the HMAS Raleigh. From that Nathanial had made the assumption that the two men were stout friends, but judging by the tension between them now Nathanial came to the conclusion that he was perhaps wrong. The way the two men faced each other, Bedford the younger yet taller of the two, reminded Nathanial of two boxers stepping into the ring. Presently, after what seemed the longest minute in history, Bedford nodded sharply and saluted Captain Folkard.

  “Yes, sir!” He turned to Nathanial with a polite smile. “If you will excuse me, Professor?”

  Nathanial watched Bedford leave the captain’s quarters, his eyes lingering on the closed door for a few moments after Bedford’s departure, a smile plaguing his lips. The scraping of the chair on the wooden deck alerted Nathanial to the fact that Folkard had resumed his place at the table. Nathanial’s smile quickly faded, and he looked back at the captain.

  “I do not wish to cause conflict on your ship, Captain, so please do not feel obligated to…”

  “My dear Professor Stone, the HMAS Sovereign is my ship and this is my mission. Who I choose to take into my confidence, although possibly against regulations, is my choice and mine alone. If I deem the particulars of this mission to be important enough to share with you, than I shall. Lieutenant Bedford has been on this ship since it launched, and I think he got used to me not being around.” Folkard chuckled. “But he will get used to my presence once more, as he always does. A shift as coxswain will remind him, and any wondering why my first officer is now playing the role of helmsman, that although I may seem to be of good humour I still run a tight ship. Now then, Professor, just where was I?”

  3.

  THE EARTH in a downward sky! Nathanial never thought he would see anything as amazing in its awesomeness as it was terrifying in its horror. He had witnessed the twinkling of the stars on many a dark night, their lights flickering through the misty atmosphere, but now, to see them with that veil removed…It verily took his breath away.

  Seen through the porthole, the Earth was a blue globe surrounded by stars, and for a moment just the knowledge that his beloved home was beneath him filled Nathanial with vertigo. He reached out to steady himself against the bulkhead.

  A point of reference to balance himself was needed, just one thing to focus on; blank out the vastness that surrounded him. From this distance, it wasn’t much more than a blip, but it was enough, and Nathanial was almost certain he knew what that slowly moving object was.

  The aether equivalent of a tugboat, a single-purpose flyer built to pull large objects through the aether. In this case, unless Nathanial was very much mistaken, this tugboat was pulling a small section of the new heliograph station away from the
orbital construction yard and out towards the mid-way point between Earth and Mars where the station was being built. It was another thing Nathanial was not supposed to be aware of, but working alongside William White threw such secrets out of the way. It seemed, for reasons Nathanial had never been able to understand, people always chose to take him into their confidence. He must have a pleasant, open face.

  Captain Folkard was the latest. As Nathanial stood there, his mind going over what Folkard had told him, waiting for his tour guide (whom he hoped would be Lieutenant Bedford; more constructive discipline from Folkard), Nathanial wished he was still none the wiser. The mission ahead sounded dangerous, and despite Folkard’s asseveration that Nathanial was up to the task, Nathanial himself was full of doubt. He was not an adventurer, he was a scientist. He agreed to come on this mission so he could see his design work as a practical part of this great ship, and, of course, he wanted to know what had happened to Annabelle first hand, not be stuck on Earth awaiting a telegram from the Admiralty.

  Ever since he had known her, Annabelle Somerset was getting herself into some sort of trouble. It always seemed to Nathanial that she actively sought such things, so to learn of the potential danger she was in now came as no surprise to him.

  Once Bedford had departed the room Folkard explained to Nathanial the particulars about nastavnik Vladimir Tereshkov, and just how his work on precision modulation pertained to the mission ahead.

  Late in 1887 Tereshkov and a team of Russian scientists piloted a flyer to Luna, now equipped with Tereshkov’s prototype governing device, a precursor to the propeller governor design that now sat in the engine room of the Sovereign. The tests must have been successful since Tereshkov and his team returned to Luna several times over the following year; these frequent visits started to attract the attention of the major powers, the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, the Confederate States of America, the Democratic and Social Republic of France, and Germany. None of these powers made any great moves to find out what Tereshkov was up to; as far as they were concerned if Russia was really that interested in the lifeless ball in Earth’s orbit, then it left the more important territories open for them. So their attentions soon returned to the inner planets.