Sigmund Shaw: A Steampunk Adventure

by Mark C. King

  Sutton looked up to the shelf behind Sigmund where the monkey had been sitting patiently and said, “Zachary, come.” and waved the creature over. The monkey jumped down to the table below and then from the table to the desk. “Turn around, Zachary.”

  When the monkey turned around, Sigmund gasped. The tail of the monkey was mechanical! With little whirring noises, the tail moved in a way that approached natural. While Sigmund stared, Sutton fiddled around with the leather harness and removed it, which unattached the mechanized tail from the monkey. All that was left on Zachary was a little stump.

  “You created an artificial tail that he can control?” Sigmund asked in astonishment.

  “Precisely. Zachary was the culmination of our research. When I left Master Liang, he gave him to me as a gift. A reminder of the great experience and of the potential of what we found.”

  “I haven’t stopped designing and improving on what we’ve done. Take a look at this.” Sutton stood up and opened a cabinet under one of the work tables. Out of it he pulled what looked like a mechanical hand cut off at the wrist. He set it on the table and attached a power wire to the end of the wrist. A second wire he attached near the first one and then took the end of it – a small box – and placed it on the back of his neck. There was a little whishing sound and he winced. “Now watch, Mr. Shaw.” Sutton spread his hand out wide and froze it in position. To Sigmund’s astonishment, the mechanical hand spread itself out wide just like Sutton’s real hand.

  Sutton made his hand into a fist and the mechanical hand did also at nearly the same time. Then Sutton started to open and close his hand and the mechanical version mimicked all he did. Sutton asked, “Do you see what is happening?”

  Sigmund did. He could hardly believe it but he understood. “You are controlling that hand through intercepted nerve signals.”

  “Exactly! Very good! You have a sharp mind. This box at the back of my neck is intercepting the signals that my brain is sending to my real hand and relaying them to corresponding motors in the mechanical hand. I assume that you can see the potential?”

  “Yes, clearly. But you have said potential twice now. Why potential? This is amazing! Perhaps not a cure in the truest sense but a great leap forward as a solution!”

  “Over time I might agree with you, but for now it is incomplete.”

  “How so?”

  Sutton went back to his desk where tailless Zachary was still standing, reattached the harness to the monkey’s tail, and gave him a grape from his briefcase. Zachary, with grape in hand, climbed back up to his spot and started to eat. Indicating the monkey, Sutton said, “The communication with the nerves is a chemical process, but the movement of the tail is electrical. Zachary has an electric storage device, a battery, attached to his harness. With limited use the storage device will last a couple of hours. Mind you, this is for a very lightweight mechanism with only a few motors. Now imagine what would be required for an arm, or more to the point, a pair of human legs. Much heavier, many more motors – simply put, a large need for electricity. At that scale there is no electric storage device that can hold enough electricity to power a device that large for more than only a few minutes. That amount of time makes it near worthless.”

  Sigmund tried to find a counter-argument, but couldn’t. As amazing as this was, it would be useless without a power source. And that’s when it hit Sigmund. “The German invention. This power problem is why the invention was intrinsic to the cure. That was going to be your replacement for the electric storage device.”

  “Precisely. A small electric generator could be attached to a harness and provide all the electricity that is needed. But with the invention’s destruction that is no longer an option. So you see Mr. Shaw, the cure for your niece exists in a fashion, but is not complete. First, I cannot repair the damaged nerves to her legs – that knowledge is still in the future. But a pair of mechanical legs could allow her to walk. But without a small power source there is no way to make them work in any practical fashion.” Both men went silent for several seconds as they contemplated the frustrations of being so close to a cure but unable to grasp it.

  Breaking the silence, Sutton asked, “Tell me, Mr. Shaw, was the German invention real?”

  “It was. And up until a few moments ago it was one of the most remarkable things I’ve ever seen. It was an amalgam cube that produced amazing amounts of heat and that didn’t burn out for many months, perhaps even years.”

  With true astonishment Sutton whispered, “Incredible.”

  Sigmund took a moment to reflect on the visit so far. It was one surprising revelation after another – all culminating in the disappointing fact that the purpose for his visit was not realized – there was no help for Sarah.

  20.

  Zachary, Sutton’s monkey, had overcome any fears that he had had at the unexpected visitor. Seeing the calm manner of Sutton and the non-threatening nature of this stranger, gave him the confidence to climb from his spot and investigate. Sigmund smiled as the monkey pawed at his clothing, examining buttons, his watch, and eventually climbing to his shoulder and playing with his goggles.

  “He quite likes you Mr. Shaw,” commented Sutton. “Have you been around monkeys before, perhaps a visit to India?”

  “No – to both questions. He seems friendly enough.”

  “That he is and smart too. As I mentioned, he represents the culmination of my work so far, one step away from my life’s goal. Being so close, it cannot be hard to see why I had such an interest in the German invention. That said, creating the needed generator that would allow for artificial movement was not my main concern. You already made mention of the growing faction in the government that wants war. If they were to have gotten their hands on the fuel source it would have been devastating. Perhaps it was for the best that it was destroyed. The potential for good was certainly there, but the potential for bad might have overshadowed it. The saving of countless lives outweighs the healing of a few.”

  With true curiosity Sigmund asked, “How did you find out about it, the German invention? You seemed fairly certain it was not a hoax.”

  Sutton nodded, “There were a couple of things that brought it to my attention. As you can see, I am not working in a hospital or practicing medicine. As I mentioned, I didn’t graduate, but I have found that my knowledge of physical movement has given me a unique perspective to mechanical designs. I have even started to incorporate my nerve research into my designs. Imagine a machine that responds to your body movements as opposed to some kind of steering wheel. It would allow for a whole new breed of vehicle. With this in mind, a few months back I was asked to design a new war machine, which in my line of work is a necessary evil. But what really grabbed my attention was that the machines were to assume that the power source was small, very strong, and did not need replenishment – in short, the perfect power source. I found the request a bit odd but I obliged. Sometimes designing something without limits helped you to discover new ways to do things. I viewed it as merely a creative exercise as there was no actual power source that could meet the design. I came up with one of my best creations – innovative, strong, agile – a truly brilliant design, if I do say so myself. I delivered it and didn’t give the design any more thought. That is until the day Marcus Pratt visited me.”

  “The man that was killed and hung on Tower Bridge.”

  “Yes. Poor Marcus. He worked for the government, was involved in the Defence Department. His position and foolhardy aggressiveness allowed him to find out about the war faction and more importantly about the German invention – which is what no doubt led to his death. He questioned the existence of the invention, the possibility of it, but decided to let me know. When I heard about it I immediately thought of my designs. They no longer appeared to be a creative exercise but a real design for this new invention. I wasn’t completely convinced at that point as this would be a monumental change and usually changes are more incremental. So I did research as to who received my design and w
hat they did with it. My hope was that it was filed away and forgotten, but it was not to be. Not only was it not forgotten, I found out that my design was being built.”

  “What?” Sigmund asked excitedly. “Being built, already?”

  “It was at that point that I didn’t doubt this German invention, this amalgam cube as you called it. They wouldn’t go through all the trouble and cost of production without a good reason. If I had known that my designs would actually be used, I would have been more reserved, cautious with a new technology. But realizing the parameters of the design included the impossible – or so I thought – I went forward thinking it as speculative creativity.”

  “You couldn’t have known,” soothed Sigmund. “It was dependent on an invention that you didn’t know existed. That doesn’t exist anymore.”

  A very concerned look crossed Sutton’s face. He asked, “Sigmund, are you sure it was destroyed that night?”

  “I’m positive. Why?”

  “Since the time of the explosion, I have tried to follow up on my design – for surely it was for nothing without the invention. But I haven’t come across the reaction of disappointment that I had anticipated. In fact, I have heard some rumors that the production of the machines has not stopped. Now, it’s possible that they are being retrofitted for coal but the mechanism would be crippled if they had to do that. It makes me wonder. Tell me, who was in the room that night at the hotel.”

  Sigmund thought back, “The Defence Minister, of course, the two German scientists, and the minister’s companion.”

  “Wait,” said Sutton with some excitement, “the companion was in the room? Where was he located?”

  Sigmund wasn’t exactly sure where Sutton was going with this. It didn’t seem to matter where they were as a bomb wasn’t very discerning like that. “The two Germans sat on the foot of the bed while the minister and his companion sat opposite them on a couch.”

  “Could the man sitting next to the minister have possibly left? Did you see him in the room right up until to the explosion?”

  “I guess it is possible that he left, but unlikely. The meeting wasn’t over and there didn’t appear to be any reason to leave. However, I did have to turn away as one of the scientists came and opened the window that I was outside of. There was a little time where I guess he could have gotten up. But why would he?”

  Ignoring the question, Sutton asked, “What did the companion look like?”

  Sigmund thought back to the man. He hadn’t given him much attention but was able to recall a few things, “He had straight blondish hair, very fine, and a longish face. Average to maybe slightly above average height. I can’t remember much more.”

  Sutton opened his briefcase and pulled out a newspaper, the London Times, and looked at the front page for a moment. Then turning the paper around and handing it to Sigmund he asked, “Did he look anything like this?”

  Sigmund was a bit confused but took the paper and saw on the front page the exact man he was just describing. The minister’s companion was on the front page of the Times. The headline above the picture read, Grimkraken to be Announced Defence Minister. “This is him!” exclaimed Sigmund. “This is the companion that was in the room!”

  Becoming speechless, both men sat there in quiet reflection, implications swimming through their heads.

  Sigmund looked back at the article and read the full name, Christoph Grimkraken. This meant that he survived the blast and that he almost certainly had the amalgam cube.

  Sigmund finally asked, “How did you know?”

  “I didn’t know for sure. I knew that one of the people killed was an official as you said, but he was a guard who was outside the hotel room door, not inside the room. Once you said there was someone inside, that meant that the death toll didn’t add up. It makes sense that Grimkraken was there – it’s rumored that he is the one that the Germans contacted in the first place. His grandmother was German.”

  Small connections kept being made in Sigmund’s mind with all of this new information, “This means that the Coal Union had nothing to do with it. The bomb, the murder of the Defence Minister was by the hands of this man. Not only did he get the amalgam cube, presumably, but he also opened a powerful position for himself to take.”

  “I doubt I have to tell you that he is part of the war faction. One of its more outspoken leaders.”

  Sigmund smiled wryly, “I figured. The question now is what do we do?” At this point another connection was made, one that made Sigmund’s heart leap, “If Grimkraken has the process for the amalgam cube then it didn’t get destroyed which means that if we can get at it then your device for my niece could have a power source.”

  Sutton thought about it for a second and then said, “Yes, you are right. However, that can’t be our main concern. You must understand.”

  Sigmund did and nodded.

  Sutton continued, “Everything you have been told about the war faction and my design is true. If someone doesn’t stop them, there will be war, I’m certain of it.”

  Sigmund asked, “Why the desire for war? To what end?”

  “There seems to be some grandiose thoughts of the British Empire spreading itself out like in olden times. Promises of wealth and power. It is so incredibly arrogant that it is hard to believe that there are supporters, but to my shock and dismay there are many supporters from all that I have heard.”

  War did not any make sense to Sigmund. He was a simple man and matters of governments and nations were not things he gave much attention to. However, he did know that he was not in support of this war faction. “Mr. Sutton, can you find out where the manufacturing of your design is being done?”

  With a sigh Sutton answered, “I’m not sure. With Marcus gone my information from inside the government is limited. I’ll try. What do you have in mind?”

  “Proof.”

  21.

  As the clock neared 11:00 pm, Gabriel Holmes climbed his apartment stairs once again. Another fruitless day in the Defense Minister murder case. Sir Bradford, the Police Commissioner, had been reasonable thus far but even his patience would run out. As Holmes opened his apartment door his neck hairs stood up. It was the same feeling as the other night when the criminal, Sigmund Shaw, had broken in. Not one to be fooled twice, his gun was in his coat pocket this time. He whipped it out, turned on the light, and pointed the gun at the chair that Sigmund Shaw had been sitting in the previous visit… and was sitting in again.

  Despite his warning senses, Holmes was surprised to see anyone, especially Sigmund, and even more surprised that Sigmund was not armed this time.

  As if this was an ordinary visit, Sigmund said, “Good evening, Chief Inspector. Another long day I see.”

  Holmes wasn’t going to let Sigmund escape this time. He demanded, “Stand up, Mr. Shaw. I’m placing you under arrest.”

  Sigmund didn’t move. Holmes repeated, “Stand up now! I will shoot you!”

  Sigmund, still in a calm voice, said, “I believe you, Chief Inspector. You no doubt see that I am unarmed. If it’s all the same to you, I would rather be shot sitting down than standing up. Frankly, I would hope not to be shot at all. But I will make a deal with you.”

  Holmes was a bit flabbergasted. A deal? What is this man up to? “A deal? I don’t believe you are in any position to bargain, Mr. Shaw.”

  Still not standing, Sigmund said, “Hear me out. I will volunteer myself to you if you listen to what I have to say. That is the deal. You give me a few minutes of your time and then I’m yours to do with as you want.”

  Holmes was not a fool. He sensed a trap, although he couldn’t imagine what it was. He looked around the room for an accomplice or some sort of device to restrain him. He didn’t see either.

  “Chief Inspector, I am telling you the truth. As I always have, I might add. Would you like to have a seat?”

  Holmes laughed at the notion, “I don’t think so, Mr. Shaw. I will stand with my gun squarely aimed at your chest. But I will agree to
your deal, although I have reservations that you will live up to your end. For that reason I give you fair warning: if you try to escape, I will shoot you. Are we clear?”

  “Yes, Chief Inspector, perfectly so. Shall I begin?”

  “Please do, you have my attention.”

  Sigmund waited several seconds before speaking again. Holmes didn’t know if this was because he was rethinking his plan or just organizing his thoughts. Either way, the silence was beginning to be disturbing.

  Then, without warning, Sigmund looked into Holmes eyes and said, “I know who set off the bomb.”

  Holmes looked back at Sigmund, not giving any emotion.

  Sigmund continued, “I know who set it off and why they did it. It was not the Coal Union as I first told you about. Although I believe I was clear that it was my theory and not a proven fact. I also know who the stranger was that visited me, who blackmailed me, and started me down this path. His name was Marcus Pratt.”