FOLKARD PICKED AT the bandage swathing his wounded left hand and glanced at Bedford’s plaster-covered forearm which was supported in a sling. Four days had passed since the publically uneventful arrival of the new Austro-Hungarian ambassador and his reception by the British government. What had happened inside the zeppelin tower at Hyde Park would, it would seem, never be made public.
“You’ll still both be heroes, of course,” Rear Admiral Cavor said, and his gesture included Bedford in the chair beside Folkard, facing Cavor’s broad desk at the Admiralty. “That Stone chap as well. The official story will be that your capture of the gunpowder barge in the Thames thwarted the entire scheme. But the idea that a second bomb plot could have got that close to success, rockets actually up there in the tower…it just won’t do. Too many questions, too many accusing fingers pointing at too many people.”
“At Lords Belvedere and Chillingham you mean, sir,” Folkard said.
Cavor frowned in reply. “The less said about that the better.”
“But why?” Folkard asked. “You sent me out to uncover the conspiracy, and we did so. Now it is to be covered up again? Why, sir?”
“That’s not your concern, Captain,” Cavor answered.
“Not our concern? It was our concern when we jumped aboard a scow filled with gunpowder, our concern when we came within a whisker of blowing ourselves sky high in Hyde Park, our concern when I got this,” he said and held up his bandaged hand, “and when Bedford got his arm broken and nearly had a knife between his ribs. It was—”
“Yes, yes, you’ve made your point, Folkard,” Cavor cut in. “I sent you out to uncover a conspiracy against the crown, and you two risked your necks to do so. But what you uncovered was a conspiracy for the crown, or for the Empire at any rate. To expose it would compromise our position on Luna at the very least and will likely start a mining rush on Mercury as well, all of which will be to our disadvantage.”
Disadvantage! For a moment Folkard wanted to spit. It was not simply the danger or these injuries the two of them has suffered. What of Stone and his brother? The youngster was gone and Stone changed, perhaps broken, and for what?
“Men shadowed me. Two of them nearly killed Stone and his brother once, and others certainly fired my lodgings and killed Edwin.”
“It’s a complicated, ugly business, and we may never sort all of it out,” Cavor answered, “but don’t you think it likely the assassins were responsible for that?”
“Certainly not. For whatever reason, the assassins were keen to keep him alive.”
“That’s right!” Bedford said, his first words since sitting down. “In the tower Snide told his henchmen not to kill Stone, only to capture him and bring him along.”
“Not only that; when the two toughs were on the verge of killing Stone and his brother outside the lodgings, they were shot by a silent weapon.”
“An air gun!” Bedford said. “The sort the assassins had.”
“Very well,” Cavor agreed, “I’ll give you that. The attempts on Stone’s life, if that’s what they were, and certainly on yours, Captain Folkard, were not the work of these assassins.” He paused then and tapped his desk with his fingers, obviously reluctant to say more. Then he sighed and continued. “I have reason to suspect that an informant in the Admiralty may have passed word of your mission to Chillingham. I think it possible at the very least the arson attack on your residence was the result of that, probably to end your mission. How the other business fits into it I am less certain. For that matter, I’ve never been able to puzzle out who planted the trumped-up evidence against Stone in that crashed aether cutter, or why.”
“And the attempt on the Prince of Wales?” Folkard queried. “There’s that as well.”
“Chillingham wasn’t behind Snide! You can see that clearly I should hope. He sent men to shadow you; would he then send Snide’s men to shoot them? Damned if we can work out who was behind Snide—somebody named Willie apparently, but it wasn’t Chillingham. Oh, I’ll grant you Chillingham and Belvedere weren’t above dealing with the second bomb in a dilatory manor, and had the prince perished in an explosion, and taken ‘Pushful Joe’ Chamberlain with him, not many on the Tory side of the aisle would have shed a tear. But you can’t prove anything but incompetence, and even that’s in question as the man Chillingham sent did thwart the plot.”
There was too much truth in what Cavor said for Folkard to reply. Had Major Gordon exceeded his orders or simply exercised commendable initiative? Who could say with certitude? No, there were no provable charges there, just ugly innuendoes which would tar everyone with the same brush. Still, it left a very bad taste in Folkard’s mouth. He would be more content if he thought Admiral Cavor felt the same.
“You did well, Folkard,” Cavor continued. “You as well, Bedford. You’ll have to content yourselves with that. Now it’s on to other tasks. Sovereign for you, of course,” he said nodding to Bedford, “and back to the aether for you as well, it seems, Captain.”
Folkard shifted in his chair. That made no sense and went against everything he and Cavor had discussed earlier. “Sir? I thought…”
“Yes, I know. No command of a naval aether flyer. That still stands. But there is need for a naval officer for another mission, and it is one for which you are uniquely qualified. Uniquely qualified. But you’ll find out about that this afternoon at the Austrian embassy, of all places. Be there at two o’clock sharp.”
An order was an order. He could at least see what they had in mind for him. “Four bells in the afternoon watch, aye aye, sir.”
“Admiral,” Bedford said, “have the Sea Lords made a decision on my recommendations for decorations?”
Cavor looked surprised for a moment at the change of subject but then nodded. “Ah, you mean for the business on Luna? Damn me, with all this other excitement I’d nearly forgot about it. Yes, they’re giving Maxwell the Distinguished Service Order and that other Marine officer—what’s his name? Larkins?—the Conspicuous Gallantry Medal. Stone will get the Order of the Royal Red Cross. Best we can do for a civilian, short of a knighthood, and he’s a bit twitchy for that.”
“And the enlisted personnel, sir?”
“What? Oh…yes, that Welsh Marine, I think he’s in for a CGM as well.”
“Private Jones,” Bedford said. “He shot and killed Vladimir Tereshkov, with one bullet put away probably the single most dangerous opponent of British interests anywhere. And Chief Coxswain’s Mate Charles? I recommended him especially.”
“Yes, but he died, Bedford. You know the rules on posthumous awards of medals. It isn’t done. You gave him a glowing mention in your dispatch. I’m sure his family will appreciate that.”
“There’s still the Victoria Cross, sir, our highest award. That’s allowed a posthumous award, and Chief Charles’s death was, if I may say so, exactly what that exception had in mind. He knowingly gave his life to save the rest of the party, and had he not done so I don’t believe any of us would have lived to tell the tale.”
Cavor frowned in thought for a moment and then shook his head. “I’m afraid not, Bedford. The Sea Lords have decided on one VC for the expedition, and won’t allow a second.”
“Sir?” Bedford said, obviously confused although Folkard immediately understood the implication, having made the recommendation himself. With his left hand bandaged and Bedford’s right in a cast and sling, shaking hands would be difficult, but he reached over and patted his friend and former shipmate on the shoulder.
“Congratulations, George. Richly deserved.”
2.
NATHANIAL STARED AT the polished wood floor of Dumba’s office until the silence grew awkward. Finally he slipped the pocket watch from his jacket and handed it to Annabelle in the chair beside him. “I thank you for the loan for this. I know it means a great deal to you, and feeling it in my hand sustained me through some very dark times. I… I see they have returned your leg to you. Is it satisfactory?”
“Thank you,” Annabe
lle said, enfolding the watch in both of her hands. She flexed and extended the artificial leg with its internal springs and clockwork devices. “It may need a slight adjustment in tension. I believe when we reset it from the low gravity of Sovereign to Earth’s we did not increase the spring resistance quite enough so it does not have the energetic return I grew used to. But aside from that it is a marvellous thing and I thank you very much.” She paused for a moment, a look of uncertainty crossing her face. She continued with a tone of tenderness Nathanial had never heard before. “I was…very sorry to hear of your brother’s death. I would say I cannot imagine how you feel, but in truth I can, as you well know.”
“Yes. Thank you, Annabelle. I am myself very sorry for—”
The door opened and Dumba’s secretary escorted Captain Folkard in. Nathanial felt himself stiffen involuntarily. Whether Folkard could have done anything to prevent Edwin’s death, Nathanial could not say. But Folkard had hustled Nathanial out of the burning building and all but ignored Edwin, and it was Edwin whose injury made him more needful of assistance. Nathanial doubted he would ever forgive Folkard, or himself for that matter.
Folkard greeted them and took the third seat, thankfully on the far side of Annabelle.
“I have just come from the Admiralty,” Folkard said. “Let me be the first to congratulate you, Professor Stone. You are to receive the Order of the Royal Red Cross for your action on Luna.” He held out his hand across Annabelle but Nathanial turned away.
He would not take the award and he would not shake Folkard’s hand. In truth, he could not think what he would do.
If only when he had fallen in the Thames he had never surfaced! That would have been easier. How could he face his family and tell them of Edwin’s death? The question was rhetorical of course—the truth was he could not, and he had known it for some time. Better they think him perished along with Edwin than have to see a reminder of their dead son and brother every time they looked in Nathanial’s eyes—if, indeed, they could ever again bring themselves to do so, which he doubted.
The room lapsed into awkward silence for perhaps a minute before Folkard spoke again, this time to Annabelle. “Where is our host?”
“I do not know, Captain. We were told to wait here and Doctor Dumba would join us shortly.”
Several more minutes passed in silence before the door opened again and the sound of conversation spilled into the office along with Dumba and three other men. One of them, to Nathanial’s surprise, was Cyrus Grant. The second was unfamiliar, a stout, bearded man in his middle years with deep, intense eyes. The third he remembered not only from numerous lectures, but also a lunch shared at the Savoy Club two years earlier. He superficially resembled the other bearded man—stout and bearded—but the other was much older, his hair thinning and white. There were other differences—eyes alert and probing but with a calm look to them, as opposed to the almost haunted look in his companion.
“Lord Kelvin,” Nathanial said rising. “May I congratulate you on your elevation to the peerage, sir.” Folkard rose as well and helped Annabelle to her feet.
“Please sit, all of you,” Kelvin said. “This is an informal meeting—or better yet, let us say an imaginary one. Our two governments will vehemently deny it ever took place. As Mister Stone has observed, I am Professor James Thomson, Lord Kelvin if you prefer, although I am still not quite used to that. Spend most of your life as Jimmy and when someone says ‘Your Lordship’ you’re likely to look about to see who came into the room. All of you know each other except I believe you three have yet to meet Doctor Ludwig Boltzmann, certainly the foremost Austrian physicist and the leader of the team which discovered the polarity of gravitar and how to manipulate it in a matrix. I understand that all of you are familiar with the basics of those discoveries? Excellent.”
Kelvin sat down in Dumba’s chair while the two Austrians and Grant drew other chairs over beside the desk and sat. Once they were settled, Kelvin folded his hands on the desk blotter and leaned forward.
“Remarkable as the gravitar discovery is, and I certainly will not attempt to minimize it, Doctors Grant, Boltzmann and I are convinced we are on the brink of a series of discoveries of vastly greater import. Doctor Grant has been in contact with the alien intelligence known as the Heart. You too, Captain Folkard, have felt its presence?”
Folkard nodded. “The contacts lack both the clarity and persistence of the assaults—I can call them nothing else—experienced on Luna itself, but I have felt them.”
“Grant is in more stable communication. I would scarcely credit this, but he has relayed information to us as to recent events on Luna, the accuracy of which was confirmed by heliograph. There is no doubt the communications are a genuine phenomenon as opposed to an hallucination. That by itself is interesting but hardly Earth-shaking. The content of those communications is of far greater moment.
“Lady and gentlemen, we believe it is within our ability to navigate a manned craft to the trans-asteroidal bodies and return with samples and observations.”
He looked at them and waited for a reaction. Nathanial recalled Grant babbling about something similar on Luna, but today his eyes seemed clear, his mind sound. The fact that Kelvin concurred was remarkable, and exciting, but still difficult to credit.
“I have difficulty understanding the mechanism for doing so,” Nathanial said at last.
“Boiler’s the problem,” Folkard said. “Get beyond the asteroids and the sun’s just the biggest star in the sky.”
“Yes,” Kelvin said. “That has always been the problem—energy, or more precisely, heat. Based upon information from the Heart, we believe we can solve that problem at last. To do so, we are establishing two teams which will, it should be clear, work in secrecy. The scientific team will be based here in Britain and will consist of Doctors Boltzmann, Grant, and myself. The exploratory team will consist of the three of you, if you are willing.
“I admit to some reluctance at adding Miss Somerset to the team, but Doctor Grant insisted on including an observer he could trust implicitly, and I understand his concern. His help is essential and as the United States is not party to the agreement concerning this venture, he is without the backing of a national government to guarantee a fair and objective report. The Austrians, for their part, are content with Doctor Grant and Miss Somerset’s reports for objectivity, so if you would consent we would be most grateful.”
3.
ANNABELLE SAT FOR a moment, unsure what to say, or even how she felt about this venture. She felt many things to be sure: excitement at the prospect of being part of this historic voyage of discovery, fear at its probable dangers, concern at being separated from George at a time when their relationship seemed to be deepening, a different concern at being in close proximity to Nathanial again after their relationship had grown so strained. But most of all she felt a sense of warmth and pride that Uncle Cyrus had expressed such trust in her. He had, in the best of times, been a challenging guardian, and lately had seemed lost to her altogether. Now she felt closer to him than she ever had before. This was an opportunity to cement the bond between them she had always desired, and one which would likely never come again.
“Yes, of course I will go.”
“Excellent,” Kelvin said and he seemed to relax. “And you, Mister Stone? Will you accept our invitation?”
Annabelle watched Kelvin watch Nathanial, felt the seconds draw out into an awkward pause. Her Uncle Cyrus frowned and shifted in his chain in impatience, and finally spoke. “Come on, Stone, what’s holding you back? This is an unprecedented scientific opportunity. If I were younger, wild horses couldn’t keep me off this expedition.”
She turned to Nathanial for the first time and saw him staring at the wall, apparently lost in thought. He turned back to the men at the desk. “First an observation. What Captain Folkard notes concerning boiler temperature is perfectly correct. If insufficient heat can be directed at the boiler to raise the temperature of water to boiling, no steam
can be generated. That is an inescapable fact. I assume therefore that you believe it possible to either artificially lower the boiling point of water, or more efficiently capture the heat of the sun than current mechanisms allow, or that you believe there is a mechanism for generating heat independently of the sun and which does not involve oxygen combustion. Is that a fair assumption?”
The Austrian scientist shifted uncomfortably and glanced at Kelvin while Annabelle’s uncle nodded and smiled in appreciation of Nathanial’s remark. Kelvin’s eyes, however, never left Nathanial’s. “That is correct,” he said.
“Is this mechanism at hand presently?” he asked.
“No,” Kelvin answered at once. “Your first task will be to gather certain material necessary to complete the design.”
“Gather it from sources not on the Earth, but within reach of current aether flyers?’ Nathanial asked and Kelvin nodded briskly. “Very well, I accept under two conditions.”
The Austrian scientist Boltzmann exchanged a worried look with Dumba but again Kelvin gaze remained steady. “What are your conditions, Mister Stone?”
“First, I wish to be listed as dead.”
All of them stirred at that and Kelvin even blinked in surprise.
“Dead, Nathanial?” Annabelle asked. “Whatever can you mean?”
Nathanial turned to Folkard instead of her. “When I fell from the steam launch into the Thames, I never surfaced. You understand? If you will paint me a hero, and I understand that is the current intention, paint me as a dead hero. Give the Order of the Royal Red Cross to my parents as a remembrance. And make up something heroic about Edwin’s death as well. Have him dash back in to save a small child. Give him the damned order. Make his death worth something to them. Do you understand?” He began firmly and without emotion but his voice faltered at the end and Annabelle saw a flash of deep sorrow and shame pass across his face.
“I…were it within my power, Stone, I would do so,” Folkard said, “but it is not.”
“It is within mine,” Kelvin said. “We will do all of that and find an alternative identity for you. What is your second condition?”
series 02 01 Conspiracy of Silence Page 23