∨ Worldshaker ∧
Thirty-One
Of course, he was dirty. His clothes were stained with oil and grease, his hands were black with smoke and grime, his face no doubt the same. Perhaps he smelled of all those things as well. But what made the officers recoil was something more than dirt.
“Did you see me get away from the Filthies?” he asked. “I was too smart for them. Did you see them chasing me?”
No one said anything to the contrary. They must have seen the Filthies howling and shaking their fists. Yet the expression in their eyes remained unchanged.
Col realised then. It wasn’t the way he’d returned, but the very thought of where he’d been: down Below, down among the Filthies.
He rose to his feet and they retreated a pace further away. It was as though he carried some contagious disease.
“You fell down the food chute,” said one officer.
“Ah. Yes.” What had been happening in the time he’d been Below? “You know about that?”
“Yes. Sir.” The sir sounded like an afterthought. “The Supreme Commander has been conducting interviews with all concerned.”
“He’ll be on his way now,” said a second officer. “I sent a messenger to tell him you’d been sighted.”
“He never expected to see you again,” added a third.
“We’ll take you to meet him now,” said the officer who’d spoken first.
In silence, they escorted him up from the viewing bay. This was a different viewing bay to the one Col knew, but the ladder and hatch were similar, and the canvas tent, and the cordon fence with flashing orange lights. Even the coal mounds and iron piers looked much the same.
They had walked only a short distance when the leading officer called a halt. “Here they come now,” he said.
Advancing along Bottom Deck was a party of a dozen officers, led by the towering figure of Sir Mormus Porpentine. Col ran a hand through his hair and smoothed down his clothes. The only effect was to leave new marks on his shirt and jacket.
Sir Mormus’s face was set and grim, his brows were like thunder. Ignoring Col, he addressed himself to the officers from the viewing bay. “Well?”
“We hooked him up off a beam, sir.”
“He appeared to be escaping, sir. From a pack of Filthies, sir.”
Sir Mormus drew himself up to even greater height. “Good. Then return to your duties. All of you.” He flicked a hand towards Col. “You come with me.”
Col could feel the officers’ stares of disapproval burning into his back as he went off with his grandfather. Sir Mormus didn’t spare him a glance, but stomped straight across puddles, coal grit and patches of oil.
Col attempted an explanation. “It was Lumbridge who pushed me down the food chute, sir.”
Sir Mormus snorted. “What were you doing on Bottom Deck, boy?”
“I, er, followed them down, sir. The Squellingham twins and their group. I suspected they were up to no good.”
“No, they followed you.”
“That’s what they say, sir. But – ”
“Don’t trifle with me, boy. You were the one who’d been taken to Bottom Deck before. Only you could have known the numbers to unlock the door.”
Col fell silent as his explanation collapsed in a heap.
They left Bottom Deck by a door labelled Door 21. Sir Mormus led the way to a steam elevator nearby.
“Listen, boy,” he said, as the platform started up. “We’re going to the Executive Chamber. There’s an Imperial inquiry already under way. When you appear, Sir Wisley will turn it into a trial. You’ll be on trial, I’ll be on trial, the Porpentine family will be on trial. So I’ll do the explaining. You back up everything I say. Understand?”
“Yes, sir. But what if – ”
“Not another word.”
At Fifty-First Deck, the elevator puffed and wheezed to a halt. They passed through a screen of wooden swing doors and green velvet curtains. Col had never been to the Executive Chamber before, but he knew it was where the most important decisions for the future of Worldshaker were made.
He understood the situation he was in now. Sir Mormus would defend him because the reputation of the Porpentines depended on it. But from his grandfather’s point of view, it would have been better and simpler if Col had stayed lost down Below.
They walked a hundred yards along a corridor and came to a door with panels of polished oak. Sir Mormus flung it open and marched in.
The Executive Chamber swam before Col’s gaze. Sombre portraits…busts in niches…plush green carpet…a semicircle of tables. Queen Victoria and Prince Albert were seated on their Imperial thrones, flanked by members of the Executive. Dr Blessamy stood in the centre of the semi-circle and appeared to have been giving evidence.
Col took a deep breath as every eye in the room turned on him.
∨ Worldshaker ∧
Thirty-Two
“Extraordinary,” muttered Prince Albert. “Extraordinary. Most extraordinary.”
Col was painfully aware of the stains on his school uniform, the grime on his face and hands.
Queen Victoria frowned under her massive crown. She swivelled her head a few degrees towards Dr Blessamy. “Thank you, headmaster. You can step down now.”
Col recognised several members of the Executive: Chief Helmsman Turbot, Rear Admiral Haugh, Lord Fefferley and Sir Wisley Squellingham. Sir Wisley sat at the end of the semi-circle with a stack of papers on the table before him. He smiled at Col, showing the gold fillings in his teeth. It was not a pleasant smile.
“Please tell us, Sir Mormus.” Queen Victoria swivelled her head back in the opposite direction. “How did your grandson get up from Below?”
She seemed to know about Col’s reappearance, but not the details of the rescue. Col realised that Sir Mormus must have been at the inquiry when the summons to the viewing bay arrived.
Now Sir Mormus propelled Col forward to the spot vacated by Dr Blessamy, and positioned himself behind. His account of Col’s rescue made it sound like a heroic escape: his grandson had deliberately climbed to the highest point below the viewing bay, fighting off all Filthy attempts to drag him down.
Col only half listened. He was distracted when he noticed other people at the back of the Chamber. There in a row of chairs sat Hythe, Pugh, Lumbridge, Fefferley, Haugh and Flarrow. Dr Blessamy stood next to them, and five officers next to him.
Sir Mormus concluded with a flourish. “All observed by many witnesses, Your Majesty. I can bring them up to testify, if you wish.”
“No, no, no,” Sir Wisley jumped in. “Not necessary. Not relevant. Let’s keep our eyes on the main issue.” His own eyes darted rapidly in every direction. “Let’s hear the officers confirm what the boys have told us.”
Queen Victoria winced under the weight of her crown. “Very well. But first, let Master Colbert hear what the boys have said against him.” She extended a hand towards her Consort. “If you would care to summarise, my dear.”
“Humph.” Prince Albert pulled on alternate ends of his moustache. “School excursion. Master Colbert and six school friends. He opened a locked door to Bottom Deck. Secret numbers.”
Sir Wisley was eager to elaborate. “They followed him down because they were suspicious. They knew they were doing wrong, but their actions were not nearly so wrong as his.” He inclined his head respectfully. “Excuse the interruption, Your Highness.”
“Yes, yes, I was going to say all of that,” Prince Albert huffed. “Follow down. Suspicious. Wrong. Just so, just so. Then Master Colbert opened a thing called a food chute. Threw something down. Then the officers came.”
“Because the boys called them.” Sir Wisley broke in again. “Pardon me, Your Highness. Then when the officers ran up, Porpentine jumped down the food chute.”
“That’s not true!” Col protested. “I never – ”
A heavy hand clamped down over his shoulder. “Wait, boy.”
Sir Mormus exuded confidence and authority. Col couldn’t
imagine how he could be so confident.
“If we could hear from the officers themselves, Your Imperial Majesty?” Sir Wisley suggested.
Queen Victoria agreed. “Stand forward, please, officers.”
The five officers advanced from the back of the Chamber. Sir Mormus held his place with Col, so the officers formed a line in front of them.
“We were on duty in Area 17,” said one of the five. “We heard cries of Over here! Over here!”
“Many cries?” Sir Wisley interrupted.
“Yes, sir.”
“So. My sons and their friends. And what did you see when you ran up?”
The officer had taken on the role of spokesman for the rest. “Two boys were fighting beside the food chute, sir.”
“Which two?”
The officer turned to point. “Master Colbert. And Master Lumbridge. The others were watching.”
Sir Wisley drummed with his fingers on the table. “Would you say that Master Lumbridge was trying to stop Master Colbert from jumping down the food chute?”
“I couldn’t say, sir. They were wrestling back and forth.”
Sir Mormus spoke up suddenly. “Podwin, isn’t it? Petty Officer Podwin?”
Podwin swung around to face his Supreme Commander. “Yes, sir.”
Sir Mormus’s tone was almost fatherly. “Well, Podwin. You couldn’t say that Master Lumbridge was trying to hold my grandson back?”
“No, sir.”
Sir Mormus stepped closer, towering over the Petty Officer. “Could it be that Master Lumbridge was trying to force my grandson forward? Deliberately trying to push him down the food chute?”
There was a gasp from all round the Chamber. Podwin gulped and goggled like a stranded fish.
“Speak up, man,” rumbled Sir Mormus. “I can’t hear you.”
“This is outrageous,” Sir Wisley objected. “Lumbridge wouldn’t do that.”
“Unless he’d been told to.” Sir Mormus addressed himself to Queen Victoria and Prince Albert. “By some boy who had an interest in getting rid of a future Supreme Commander. Some boy who would have a clear path to the position once my grandson was gone. Or should I say, some two boys?”
“No!” squawked Hythe and Pugh in the same breath.
Sir Mormus turned to Col. “Did you try to jump down that chute, Colbert?”
“No, sir.”
“Did Master Lumbridge try to push you down? Look your Queen in the eyes and tell the truth. Did Master Lumbridge try to push you down?”
Col had a momentary image of Professor Twillip saying “Truth is the most important of all virtues, Colbert.” But this was no time for ethics…and anyway, he’d never been sure exactly what Lumbridge had intended.
He repressed a twinge of conscience, looked Queen Victoria straight in the eyes and said, “Yes, he did, sir.”
There was a long silence. Had he convinced them? New radiating furrows appeared on Queen Victoria’s brow, until she seemed to be in pain. The members of the Executive were stunned, some nodding and some shaking their heads. Sir Wisley ran a finger round the inside of his high wing-collar.
It was Prince Albert who finally broke the silence. “This is a very serious accusation, Porpentine. We’ve never heard an accusation like this before. Have we, my dear?”
“Never,” said Queen Victoria. “Dreadful, dreadful.”
Col sensed that the tide might be turning in his favour. But Sir Wisley wasn’t finished yet.
“His word against theirs,” he said. “It comes down to a question of character. Who’d be most likely to tell the truth? I think we’re forgetting one small fact here.”
He rose to his feet behind the table. Everyone’s attention was upon him. His sharp nose stabbed like a beak in Col’s direction.
“What was the thing he threw down the food chute? What was it he dropped to his friends the Filthies?”
A ripple of shock ran around the room. His friends the Filthies was a deliberate provocation.
Col looked at his grandfather. Surely he had to claim they were all lying? But Sir Mormus’s expression provided no clue.
“Well, Colbert,” said Queen Victoria. “What was this thing?”
Col was about to say, It never existed, when Sir Mormus boomed out, “I gave it to him.”
The shock of a moment ago was nothing compared to the shock now.
“I don’t understand,” said Queen Victoria faintly.
“It’s very simple, Your Majesty. He was on a mission for me. I gave it to him and told him the numbers to unlock the door.”
“What? Why?” Sir Wisley snarled as he saw his prey slipping away.
Sir Mormus spoke to the Queen alone. “I can’t explain in front of these people, Your Majesty.” His gesture took in the five officers, the six boys and Dr Blessamy. “Only the Executive.”
“Hmm.” Queen Victoria pursed her lips. “Sensitive information. Executive only. Very well. Everyone else leave the room.”
Dr Blessamy left first, followed by the Squellingham group, then the officers. Nobody had asked Col to leave, so he stayed.
Sir Mormus cleared his throat and spoke very slowly, very deliberately. “I gave my grandson a sealed container filled with a special drug. It would have shattered at the bottom of the food chute and vaporised in a cloud. The Filthies would have breathed it in.”
“But the purpose, man!” huffed Prince Albert. “What was it for?”
“To keep them awake, Your Highness. The drug was a powerful stimulant. Keep them awake to work longer hours.”
“Longer hours?” murmured Rear Admiral Haugh.
“An unofficial experiment,” Sir Mormus continued. “As the Executive is aware, the Prussian and Austrian juggernauts have recently been travelling as fast as Worldshaker. Since our engines are still the biggest and the best, I believe they must be working their Filthies harder. Ours are sleeping too much and slowing us down. We have to find a way of getting more work out of them.”
Sir Wisley sneered. “With a drug?”
“Yes.” Sir Mormus was solid as a rock.
Col couldn’t imagine that anyone accepted Sir Mormus’s story. It was too obviously ridiculous. But only Sir Wisley was willing to call his bluff.
“So when your grandson went down the chute, this drug would have been vaporised in a cloud at the bottom?”
Col saw it was up to him. “It was.” he said. “It made me cough.”
Sir Wisley turned on Col with a glint of gold fillings. “And speeded you up, I suppose?”
“Yes.” Col had a flash of inspiration. “I was so fast, the Filthies couldn’t catch me. That was how I climbed up through the machinery.”
“I don’t believe it.”
“Do you doubt his word? Do you doubt my word?” Sir Mormus lowered his brows like a bull about to charge.
“Yes.”
“Are you challenging me?” Sir Mormus’s voice rose to a blustering roar. “Do you challenge your Supreme Commander?”
“I don’t believe it.”
“How dare you!”
The Chamber was in an uproar. The head of the Porpentines and the head of the Squellinghams confronted one another face to face. Neither could stare the other down.
Like Riff and Scarf ace, thought Col. Only this quarrel won’t be settled by fighting.
In fact, it was settled by the Queen. She rose from her throne with her hands over her ears – or perhaps she was just trying to ease the weight of her crown. “I have a headache,” she said.
Prince Albert jumped up too, and studied her with concern. “Your forehead is all in lines, my dear.”
“I don’t know who to believe,” she moaned. “It’s impossible.”
Prince Albert turned to the room at large. “We’ll all have headaches soon,” he said. “I declare this inquiry over.”
“But what’s the decision?” Sir Wisley demanded.
“Nothing.” Prince Albert’s upraised palm forbade further discussion. “Status quo.”
∨ Worldshaker ∧
Thirty-Three
Thirty minutes later, the extended family of Porpentines gathered in the Northumberland Room. They sat at tables laid out for dinner, but no one was thinking of food. When Sir Mormus entered with Col, he immediately dismissed the Menials and their supervisor, then closed all the doors.
The Porpentines had the look of people anticipating bad news. Col guessed that rumours about him were already in circulation. He’d had time to wash off the dirt and change his clothes, yet the men still scowled at him, while the ladies wrinkled their noses as though there was a smell in the air.
Sir Mormus stood with legs firmly planted and hands folded over his belly, back to his full pomp and dignity. He recounted the story of what had happened according to his explanations before the inquiry. All other questions were left unanswered.
“Now you know as much as you need to know,” he boomed. “Have faith in what I have told you. For the good of our family. For the survival of our family.”
The Porpentines gasped at the word survival.
Oblett Porpentine raised a hand to speak. “But you said the inquiry was over. They accepted your explanation.”
Sir Mormus snorted. “The official inquiry is over. My explanation wasn’t rejected. But people will talk. The Executive will plot. Sir Wisley will see to that.”
“What can he prove, though?” asked Rumpley Porpentine.
“He can create doubts and make people think too much.” Sir Mormus was visibly controlling himself now. “He won’t challenge me about my grandson, but he’ll try to swing the Executive against me on small decisions, until they get used to not following my lead. He needs seven votes to bring on a no-confidence motion against me. Bassimor, Frake and Postlefrith will vote with him, and he’ll work to win over Fefferley, Haugh and Turbot.”
The Porpentines looked blank and bemused. It appeared that no one understood the consequences of a no-confidence motion.
Worldshaker 01; Worldshaker Page 13