by George Wier
Ekka turned to go, and Judah Merkam said, “but he’s the last one. Denys should be arriving shortly. He’s our military and artillery expert, if we should have trouble with the natives. Your Billy will be no more than a tinker to us. He’ll likely be in the way, and depleting much-needed oxygen. When we begin to asphyxiate, don’t look at me, Ekka.”
Ekka Gagarin nodded and walked out.
Tesla looked over at Merkam. His eye twitched ever so slightly.
“What?”
“I can see the need to bring your steam engineer along, Jude. I can even see bringing Denys Jay-Patten, if—that is, if—there are hostiles on the moon. We don’t need Mr. Koothrappally, however. You and I can quickly make any calculation required to correct our flight path. We don’t need Dr. Conklin. I mean, really. And we certainly don’t need two women and two roustabouts. Do you realize, sir, that including ourselves we have a complement of nine! Nine!”
Judah Merkam nodded and lit a cheroot, giving it a hard puff. “The Arcadia has room for twice that.”
“Not with twenty robots on board.”
“The robots don’t require seating, they use no oxygen, and the robots are mine. Besides that, I’m bringing twenty-five of them. If they make you nervous, Nik, I’ll keep them in the hold until we arrive.”
“About that. Arrival, that is. All I have seen is your little scout ship lift ten feet into the air and settle down again, before you dismantled it. I have seen no proof other than your sketches, that the Arcadia will travel one foot. It is fifty times the size of your little teacup and saucer scout ship.”
Merkam laughed. “That’s what I like about you, Nikola.”
“What?”
“Your sense of humor. Your sense of reality. For all your caution-to-the-wind bravado and heuristic inventiveness, you’re a great deal like Marconi and Maxwell. Physics. Always back to the laws of physics. Well, let me tell you something. It is those laws that bind us in chains. To hell with the laws. This is the West. We make our own laws out here, and then we break ‘em.”
There was a knock at the workshop door.
“Come in,” Merkam said.
The door opened to the scarred face of Jack Ross. Every time Tesla saw the man he wanted to wince. Ross was prone to fits of red rage followed by bouts of drinking and endless days of torpor that were legendary. He was, however, the best steam engineer on the continent. Ross’s light boiler invention had made it practical to employ steam power aboard dirigible craft. All lighter-than-air travel had been enhanced by the invention, which employed smaller—and therefore lighter—amounts of water, turned the water to steam, employed the force of the steam to power turbines, and permitted the collection of the residue in the form of condensed moisture which was fed back into the system. The engine was one nearly hundred percent efficient. Jack Ross was now a millionaire, but not by his own doing. The credit for good business sense went to his unfailing wife, Abigail, who would also be along for the voyage.
“Will you please,” Ross began, “do something about that monstrosity in the engine room!”
“Has it done anything, Jack? Or does its existence bother you?” Merkam asked.
“Both, dammit. Out of nowhere it turns itself on, looks around, grates something in that machine voice it has, then shuts down. The damned thing is haunted, I tell you.”
“Hmph!” Tesla snorted. “Any Scotsman would say you have gremlins in those robots, Jude. But I know you. You’ve got some kind of new patent there that you won’t release to the world. However did you make them talk?”
“You’ll get the whole tour, Nik. Jack, I’ll move the lead robot to the bridge if that’ll satisfy you.”
“I was thinking more like the hold. Or maybe the scrap pile out back.” Jack Ross held Judah Merkam’s gaze and dared not blink.
No, Merkam thought to himself, this is no joke. Jack hates the robots. Passionately. “Seriously, Jack. Would you please come in and sit down. We’ll talk about the robots and everything else. Care for a nip of whiskey?”
“I’ll pass,” Ross stated, but he lumbered into Judah Merkam’s study anyway, rolled up a set of drawings on the extra chair and sat himself.
It’s Abby, Merkam thought. She won’t let him do anything. She rules him, body and soul. True, if it had not been for her, Ross would be dead. Still, better dead than half a man run by a woman.
The steel skullcap covering half of Ross’s face from just above his hairline down to his chin winked in the warm glow of the study lamplight. Ross raised his left hand—the one that was not a robotic prosthesis—and gave Tesla a wave.
Nikola Tesla liked Jack Ross. For his part, Ross was every inch more the man than Merkam. By his reckoning, any man who could work with steel, water, steam, electricity and that great intricate mechanism that he termed an “ethership engine” was on a par with one of the gods. A Norse god, perhaps.
“Tell me,” Tesla said. “What is it about Jude’s monstrosity that bothers you, friend Jack?”
Jack Ross felt more at ease talking to Tesla than to Merkam. Possibly it was the fact that there was not a woman between them. A woman such as Abigail Stoff Ross. “I’ll tell you, Mr. Tesla. It’s not the fact that it mimics a man, and is yet not one, or that it reminds me that I am part machine.” Ross held up his right arm for emphasis. “It’s that it is too much of both. There is something...unnatural about them. It is against the natural order of things, I mean. Jude, there will come a day when such things are outlawed in the land. There will be troubles over them. Mark what I tell you. On one hand you can replace the slave and the worker with a...a automaton. So then one day there will be no workers. And the day following that, there will be robots giving orders to men. When that day comes...it makes me shudder to think about it. I’ll have that sip of whiskey after all, if you don’t mind.”
Merkam poured Ross a drink and handed it to him. Ross reached for it across his body with his right hand, even though retrieving it with his left would have been simpler. Possibly, it would have proven the other side of his argument, if he had. Ross tossed off the drink and sat the glass down.
“Jack,” Merkam said, “I want a test flight. We’ll not leave for the Moon from Colorado. We’ll depart from San Antonio, Texas.”
“San Antonio? What the hell for?”
“We have something there we’ll need to retrieve. Something that cannot be transported overland because of its size. Also, it’s so large we’ll have to attach it to the outer hull. I know this will throw off the calculations, but I have the exact figures on tonnage—”
“Tonnage?” Tesla piped in. “You mean to say, you intend to take on more than an additional two thousand pounds of ballast and attach it to the aircraft?”
“Spacecraft,” Merkam replied. “And it’s not ballast. It’s...what you might call armaments.”
Tesla laughed. “Are you going to war, Judah, or have you been drinking too much of that whiskey?”
“I hope not to go to war, but if we must, I want to be ready.”
Ross raised his mechanical left arm and the other two men immediately became quiet. “I will want those figures, before you give them to Koothrappally. I will want to know exactly what we are taking on. I will want to see the plans for it, and know its nature from stem to stern.”
Merkam reached up to the top of his desk and lifted a rolled up tube and handed it to Ross.
“It’s called an armored buggy. But this, my friend, will not be used for the Sunday picnic.”
“Have you named it?” Ross asked. “I know your affinity for naming mechanical things.”
“I have. It is named Ares.”
Jack unrolled the paper and pinned the edges. The colored drawing of the Ares carried a sense of its danger, and for some reason, reminded Jack of a sleek, black leopard. “So now we will be sailing to the moon with the God of War. Jude, are there things you aren’t telling me?”
Merkam didn’t answer.
[ 4 ]
Ekka said, “Billy, if y
ou have any belongings, go get them now and bring them on board. We will leave tomorrow, and we will both be too busy to manage our own affairs after tonight.” She didn’t wait for an answer and walked to the closed gates where there was someone talking loudly on the outside.
Billy leaned against the side of the open cargo hatch. He watched Ekka tell the two enormous guards to open the gate and when they drew them open, four men entered, two walking and two driving a wagon filled with two steamer trunks and several tubular canvas bags.
Of the two walkers, one was large and barrel-chested, with a walrus moustache. He wore a brown suit of fine weave. He was crying. The other man was strikingly handsome, clean shaven, and as lean as a leopard. He was average height and wore a brown, flat-brimmed hat canted at a rakish angle over one eye. A white silk scarf wrapped once around his neck and the loose ends reached to his belt. As he walked into the compound, the unbuttoned black, knee length frock coat flowed behind him like a cape. Polished boots reached his knees. Billy also noted that he wore a slender sword in an ornate black scabbard laced with bright brass filigree and wave-like swirls.
Ekka returned to Billy, “Inform Jude that Denys is here.”
“He’s not the cry-baby is he?”
“The large man is Sir Cecil Rhodes, hero and founder of Rhodesia, and a friend of Denys, here to see him on his journey.”
“Uh-huh.” He watched the two men embrace. “I believe I’ll go get Merkam.” As Billy left he muttered, “I hope this dandy has some kitchen skills.” No one on the Arcadia could cook, or even boil water properly. He thought, And we sure won’t make it to Luna without starving, even if once we get there the whole thing is made of cheese. Come on, Jay-Patten, have a pan and some bacon. His mouth watered at the thought.
Denys broke the embrace and held Cecil at arms length. “It will be all right, my dear Cecil. I will be returned to this terra firma before you realize.”
Rhodes composed himself and straightened his suit coat. “Yes, yes, of course.” He reached inside his coat and removed a fat, fist-sized leather pouch covered in intricate paintings of gazelles. “This was given to me by the Zulu chief, Shaka, many years ago. I wish you to have it.”
Denys was touched. He took the pouch and opened the top. Uncut diamonds the size of bird eggs filled the inside. They caught the sunlight and glittered. Some were clear, others canary yellow, and still others were a deep, rich indigo. Denys was stunned. He said, “This is too great a gift. I can’t accept it.”
He tried to give it back but Cecil insisted. Rhodes said, “It’s a way for me to be with you. They are a part of Rhodesia, the heart of it, and so they are a part of me. Do with them as you choose.” Cecil teared up again, but caught himself. “I hope to see you again, Denys, so that we might see Africa together. Now, I have to depart before I make a fool of myself.” He turned, crying, and walked through the gate without a backward glance.
Denys looked at the diamonds again, then closed the pouch and turned toward the Moon ship, regarding it with an appraising stare. Judah Merkam emerged from the hatch to greet him, with Billy slightly behind. Merkam indicated the wagon to Billy, “Show them where to store Denys’s luggage.
“Yes sir,” Billy said. As he went by Denys, he smelled perfume. Billy wrinkled his nose, and hailed the wagon drivers as he trotted to them.
Merkam stepped forward, extending his hand to Africa’s Great White Hunter, “Denys, I am so glad you’re joining us.”
“I look forward to our adventure, Jude.”
Merkam said, “Come, let me show you the Arcadia.” Merkam, Dr. Conklin and the African hunter went inside as Billy helped the two wagon men cart the trunks and canvas tubes through the cargo hatch. Billy felt the outline of what was in the tubes and knew they were rifles and shotguns, with one being noticeably lighter than the others, and with odd bumps and extensions on it. They used the ladders to enter the close-fitting sleeping quarters and Billy had the men place the steamer trunks beside the center bed. He arranged the canvas tubes longwise on the bed, with the odd rifle on the outside for easy reach, in case he had a chance to peek at it later. “Let’s go, boys,” he said and led them out of the Arcadia.
Billy watched the men depart through the compound gate just as Dr. Conklin was entered. The man made Billy uneasy. Conklin had a faint, smug smile on his face like he knew a secret no one else knew. As he passed, he nodded at Billy, and Billy did the same.
There’s his smell again, Billy thought. An odor so thin, no one else seemed to notice. It emanated from Conklin like the faintest of fumes and reminded Billy of the buffalo skinners who, after a full season of hiding and gutting the entrails from the shaggy animals, would come into town ready to cleanse themselves. They threw their old clothes away and bought fresh ones, and they would bathe and soak every day, sometimes twice a day, yet the same faint smell was always on them. It was in their pores, Billy figured, just like the Doctor. Only the smell coming off Conklin was not buffalo, and that was what made Billy uneasy.
Jonathan Conklin eased one eye beyond the corner to observe Billy. He had picked up on Billy’s unease. Jonathan talked to himself, as he often did. “The veneer of civilization is razor thin on that lad. He is someone to be careful of, yes indeed.” He spied Merkam coming aft with Denys and went to join them, exchanging pleasantries all around.
Jonathan said, “Tell me, Denys, how do you like Jude’s creation?’
“Most impressive, I must say. Not at all what I expected. The polished wood and plush seating remind me of the best houses in London. I was rather expecting cold metal, creaking pipes, and noisy gear assemblages, but there is none of that. This is luxury in every detail.”
Nikola Tesla joined them at the end of the conversation. “Luxury is fine, but it’s worth nothing if the ship doesn’t fly.”
Merkam shook his head, “Nik, Nik. You must be patient. We will leave soon.”
“You’ve been saying that for two weeks. I expect you will say it for the next year.”
Merkam bristled, “We leave on the morrow for our first test flight. I trust that settles your bile.”
“Morning or evening?”
“In full dark. I want no curious eyes tracing our actions.”
Denys stiffened and said, “Are there men plotting to commandeer your machine?”
Merkam said, “I’ve heard talk of sky pirates hiding in the mountains near Manitou Springs, waiting for a chance to board us as soon as we ascend. I know personally of other engineers who would cheer if we failed. Their ilk are also not above sabotage, or hiring sky pirates to do their thievery.”
Denys said, “I suggest we all maintain a high degree of alertness for the next several days.”
“By all means,” Conklin said.
[ 5 ]
Ekka finished checking the exterior lip of the hatch and walked across the yard to join Billy. Billy asked, “What do you think of Doctor Conklin?”
“I don’t think of him.”
Billy blinked at the answer, “Well, uh, what I meant was—“
Ekka gave him a quick wink. “It was a joke, Billy.” She started to the ship, “Come, we have a few things in the engine room where Ross may need your help. His hand is too large.”
Billy hurried to catch up, saying to himself, “I think I may be in love.”
Ross was at the hatch to the engine room when they arrived. He said, “There’s a problem with the spindle coupling on the base of the transmogrifier. It’s dragging for some reason.”
They followed Ross through the hatch and the first thing Billy saw was the giant robot. “Whoa,” he said. The robot’s metal head turned toward them with a whirring sound. The voice vibrated the air in the room and sounded like the lowest notes on a bass violin played in the bottom of a barrel.
The robot said, “Unauthorized personnel.” A small red glow showed in the back of an oval hollow in the robot’s forehead. It looked like a ruby glinting sunlight from the back of a shallow cave. The light grew in intensity until
Billy saw a red dot on his shirt.
Ross said, “He is one of the crew. He is authorized to be here, upon my order.”
Billy said, “What’s that red light?”
“It uses that as a locator, sort of like eyes, since it doesn’t have any.”
The red light blinked off and the head whirred back to its original position facing the transmogrifier.
“It sure gives me the willies,” Billy said.
“I hate it,” Ross said. “It is one of Merkam’s mechanical pets though. Among the two dozen he has on board.
“No good will come of them.” Ekka said. “Mark what I say. They will cause us trouble.”
Billy said, “This one looks spooky enough just standing there like a statue.”
Ross said, “Forget the talking machine. Let’s check the spindle.” Ross lay on his back and made Ekka and Billy do the same so he could point out the trouble area. “It’s this part right here.”
Billy said, “The part in that little hole?”
“Yes,” Ross showed them his large hand and fingers, “I can’t get these digits in there to see if it is merely loose and can be tightened, or whether it is faulty.”
Ekka said, “If it is faulty, what then?”
Ross sighed, “I have to disconnect and detach the transmogrifier to replace it, then we have to calculate it, well, Koothrappally would calculate it, so that it is absolutely harmonious with the spin. If it is off even one hundredth of an inch, we cannot fly.”
“And if it is loose?”
“Then, hopefully, all we have to do it tighten the spindle. The transmogrifier is already in harmonious balance. Koothrappally even double checked it.”
Billy said, “What happens if we just run this thing as it is?”
“The transmogrifier spins at two million revolutions per minute. The friction caused by the tiniest bit of drag would heat the spindle to melting, which would collapse and drop the entire mechanism resulting in a massive explosion that would destroy the ship.”
Billy looked at Ekka and said, “Well let’s not do that then, okay?” Ekka turned her head to the side to hide the smile.