Storm on Venus

by R. A. Bentley

  Charles was much amused. 'Simms a pilot? Good heavens no! I'm sorry to disappoint you, but a motor car is quite a different beast even from an aircraft, let alone a spaceship. With suitable training perhaps, but not otherwise.'

  'Oh I see,' said the Tuuntu, unable to hide his disappointment. 'Then please accept my apologies for troubling you. I fall.'

  'But isn't flying the ship your job?' asked Wilfred. 'What is the problem, exactly?'

  The Tuuntu looked affronted. 'Humans do not drive ships, Mr Carstairs, it is a task for servants, just as it is with you. That is why I thought of the Simms. Normally our thaal would do it, but he is, as you may be aware, temporarily indisposed. Naturally when he recovers he will resume his duties but we cannot wait for that. It is not good to leave the throne so long unoccupied.'

  'But would you not need at least two pilots?' said Charles. 'One man can't stay at the controls all the way to Venus.'

  The Tuuntu shook his head. 'Oh, no, that is not necessary. Here, let me show you.' Turning, he illuminated the three-dimensional map. 'This is the armagijt. It is the ship's navigation instrument and will itself do most of the necessary work.' Throwing a small lever, he rotated the surrounding bezel until a mark upon it came opposite a silvery globe, presumably Venus, before again locking it into position. 'There! The ship will now drive itself home without intervention from the steersman. It is only during the rising and falling that he is required. The duty is not onerous.'

  Charles nodded thoughtfully. 'I'm impressed. Nevertheless, I really cannot recommend Simms. However, I might as well tell you that I can fly an aeroplane, and if the controls are not too different I should be happy to oblige.'

  The Tuuntu sadly shook his head. 'Oh no, that would never do. Perhaps here on Earth it might be deemed acceptable, but for the future tantuun to perform such a menial task would be quite improper.'

  But at that moment the Migraani, who had an unsettling habit of appearing silently and without warning, was suddenly at their side. 'Thank you, Mr Prendergast,' she said. 'We accept your kind offer.'

  'Naturally we accept,' said the Tuuntu, bowing.

  'It might pay you to have a chat with the thaal,' said Wilfred as they left the bridge. You haven't met him yet and he is the expert after all. I'll be dropping in on the poor fellow later to see how he's getting on. Why don't you come?'

  But walking just behind them, the Migraani forestalled him. 'Mr Carstairs,' she said quietly, 'my servant is not a fellow — he is a beast. A clever beast he may be, but a beast he remains. If you mean to make a life for yourself on Venus, you would do well to remember it.'

  Wilfred was dumbstruck. How on earth did she know about that? He'd barely formed the notion himself, much less told anyone else. Were Venusians perhaps capable of telepathy?

  Chapter 8

  The day of departure came. From before dawn every available hand was fully occupied packing, stacking, checking inventories and ferrying last minute items of luggage, fresh laundry, fruit and vegetables to the ship. Carrying his own small suitcase of personal effects, Wilfred found himself overtaking a struggling Agnes, laden with two bulging valises and a hatbox. 'Here, let's swop,' he said. 'I'll have those and you can carry this one.'

  'Oh thank you, sir; they are rather heavy,' said Agnes. 'I'm fair wore out, what with all this fetching and carrying.'

  'Never mind,' said Wilfred. 'I expect these are about the last, aren't they? Are you excited? I know I am.'

  Agnes looked up at him apprehensively. 'To tell the truth, sir, I'm a little bit frightened. It's such a long way up in the sky and Mr Simms says there's no air in space. How shall we breathe?'

  'There'll be all the air you need in the ship,' Wilfred reassured her. 'You're not to worry about that. It's only outside that there won't be air.'

  'So won't we be able to go out then? Stretch our legs, like?'

  'No, not until we get to Venus, but there'll be plenty to keep you busy I daresay.'

  'Oh, I'm sure of that, sir,' sighed Agnes. 'There always is.'

  With everything loaded and only minutes to go, the entire household turned out to say goodbye; some at the landing ramp and others standing in little knots around the edge of the clearing. The Tuuntu was first to complete his leave-taking, and shortly afterwards the almost imperceptible humming of the great engine was replaced with a deeper sound that seemed to make the earth itself vibrate. In the gathering dusk, wisps of the now-familiar luminous vapour began to appear, patchily illuminating the ship, the surrounding trees and the well-wishers themselves.

  'All aboard what's goin' aboard,' cried Freddy in his best matelot's voice. 'Visitors to disembark immediately. Cast off forrard.'

  Everyone laughed, particularly when the two gardeners appeared from the throne room, almost tripping in their haste to get down the ramp.

  Maud, embracing her daughter, looked for one terrible moment likely to make a scene, but with an obvious effort pulled herself together. 'Godspeed my dear. Remember always to look to Charles. He is your future now. Be guided by him in everything, for a woman, even a queen, is nothing without her husband. Charles, bring her safely back to me, won't you?'

  'It's not quite . . .' began the Professor. But the Migraani laid a restraining hand on his arm.

  'You must not worry, Lady Lambent, she said. 'Our queen is our most precious possession; we are not going to let any harm come to her.'

  All around, people were saying goodbye; Simms shaking hands with Masters, Freddy pressing, with a wink, a generous gratuity on the elderly butler, Maud clutching the diminutive Professor so tightly to her bosom that it seemed he must surely suffocate. 'Take care of our baby, Ludo dear. Please do not leave her until you are sure she is quite all right.'

  Alone and overlooked by all, stood Agnes, bravely trying not to weep, for no-one had thought to allow the little maid time to visit her parents. This was a shame, for they were never to see her again.

  When all were aboard, the ramp was raised, and even as the travellers climbed to the bridge the ship began to yaw restlessly about.

  'We must prepare ourselves,' said the Migraani, and made for one of the reclining seats. Everyone hurried to follow her example, pulling tight the inbuilt harness as they had been instructed.

  'I don't care for this contraption at all,' complained Freddy. 'It reminds me of the dentist.'

  With a distinct film of sweat beading his brow, Charles took his place at the helm. Checking his instruments and experimentally waggling the controls, he gave the Tuuntu a nervous thumbs-up. The Venusian immediately threw a switch which disengaged and retracted the telescopic anchor, and the great vessel was at last floating free of the earth. The low thunder of the engine now briefly changed to an intense, high-pitched whine, like all the mosquitos in creation, causing the watchers to clutch their ears and fall even farther back among the trees. Then, seemingly with no more effort than a conjuring trick, the ship began to levitate, rising straight up until it was hanging almost motionless, some hundreds of feet above their heads. Slowly at first but with rapidly increasing speed, it turned and ascended into the darkening sky, climbing steadily higher and moving away towards the southeast. In a moment it was just an early star; in another, quite gone.

  Chapter 9

  Man is a creature of habit, and will adopt a routine, even where none is imposed. So it was with the Earthlings. They were mere passengers; nothing was expected of them and they could do exactly as they pleased. Nevertheless they quickly established a relatively set pattern of behaviour, rising punctually at eight o'clock (ship's time) and enjoying a leisurely breakfast, after which they would assemble in the throne room to chat, play billiards and, by way of exercise, stroll back and forth. Luncheon was at one, followed by more individual pursuits until dinner at seven, the long afternoon being broken, for those who wanted it, by four o'clock tea. Evenings were invariably spent with the ladies, playing mahjong or cards, or singing around the piano, and most were in bed and asleep by eleven. None of this applied, of
course, to Simms and Agnes who, as the little maidservant had so accurately predicted, were kept busy morning, noon and night.

  Daphne – no longer to be counted an Earthling – was busy too, learning how to govern a planet of perhaps twenty million human souls. Every morning she and the Migraani would return to the royal apartments to study some arcane aspect of Venusian jurisprudence, politics or court etiquette, while in the afternoon there were exercises to be done as homework in her room.

  As for the Tuuntu, he spent much of his time restlessly pacing the bridge; though he seemed to do little there, other than occasionally peer at an instrument. Charles suspected him of using the televisor to eavesdrop on them, especially after he discovered it was equipped for sound.

  'Well if he is,' said Freddy, 'the fellow ought to be something of an expert on huntin', shootin' and billiards by now, if not much else.'

  'All the same, I don't care for it,' said Charles. 'I've a good mind to pull the wires out.'

  Charles knew that the televisor had wires because he spent his afternoons exploring the ship. Making sure the Venusians were safely out of the way, he removed inspection covers, pulled down ceiling panels and lifted gratings throughout the length and breadth of the great vessel, carefully recording everything he found. He was no engineer, but in his various businesses he employed some of the best and he was confident they would be able to make sense of his meticulous drawings and notes. It was while crawling through a cramped and dusty service tunnel that he came nose to nose with a somewhat flustered Professor.

  'There's no room to turn around,' said Charles. 'I'll back up.'

  'No, no, dear boy. There is an entrance hatch just behind me. I will back up.

  Returning to the dining room, the Professor gratefully accepted a cup of tea. 'It is thoroughly bad form,' he admitted. 'I should, of course, have asked our hosts' permission, but I regret that my curiosity got the better of me.'

  'And, like me, you decided to proceed covertly,' smiled Charles, 'for you could scarcely continue your investigations if they were to refuse.'

  'Yes, I'm afraid that is so,' said the Professor. 'Since we came aboard, I have asked the Tuuntu a number of technical questions, but he has made it pretty clear that he doesn't wish to answer.'

  'My experience exactly,' said Charles. 'It's never an outright refusal, but there's always some excuse or evasion. "You would find it dull," he will say. "It is too complicated to explain." "The future tantuun should not concern himself with such things." In the end I gave it up. Perhaps we shouldn't be surprised. After all, would we tell them about our own technological advances?'

  'I doubt they would be much interested,' sighed the Professor. 'To them we must seem primitive in the extreme. The worst of it is, they would be right. I have so far failed firmly to identify the function of a single component, much less divine how it works. And how on earth, for example, does one account for the existence of Earth-like gravity in this ship? I can conceive of no mechanism, theoretical or otherwise, by which it might be achieved; it's beyond all explaining.'

  'It's certainly a more difficult business than I expected,' admitted Charles. 'But we ought to persevere, you know; it's our patriotic duty.'

  'Oh certainly, I agree,' said the Professor. 'I hope I am an honourable man, and it pains me to say this, but one cannot let mere propriety stand in the way of acquiring, almost at a stroke, such a vast fund of scientific knowledge. The prospect of having independently to discover what these people already know scarcely bears thinking about. It could take centuries.'

  Finding themselves in agreement on the matter, the two men decided to combine their talents and together investigate what was potentially the greatest prize — the ship's method of propulsion. Day after day they crouched uncomfortably in the heat of the engine room trying to make sense of the resolutely inscrutable mechanism they found there. Eventually, covered in grease and dirt, they gave up, having failed once again to discover even the most basic principle of its design.

  'Perhaps these things are simply too advanced for us to understand,' commiserated Freddy. 'The ancient Greeks were surely our intellectual equals, but what would they have made of wireless, or the electric light? They would have thought them sorcery.'

  'Well it matters little in the long run,' said Charles. 'When I am in charge, I shall simply send for their best scientists and demand an explanation. They will scarcely be able to refuse me.'

  'You won't be in charge,' Wilfred reminded him, 'A tantuun must defer to the queen.'

  'Not at all,' said Charles complacently, 'You heard the Professor; that is just a polite fiction, put out to mollify the thaalid. In any case, I see myself rather in the role of governor or viceroy. I shall, of course, invite the annexation of Venus by the Crown.'

  'Oh, of course,' said Freddy, nudging Wilfred under the table.

  One evening, dressed a little early for dinner and stooping his leisurely way aft, Wilfred noticed the door to one of the unoccupied cabins was slightly ajar. Peering in, he found Daphne. She was standing at a porthole, her lovely features set in an expression of the utmost sadness.

  'It's gone,' she said.

  'What has gone?'

  'The Earth. You can't see it anymore.'

  'It's probably directly behind us,' said Wilfred. 'It's almost impossible to make it out now anyway.'

  'Yes, I expect so,' agreed Daphne, sighing.

  During the early days of the voyage they had all spent much time gazing at their slowly receding world. It looked so vulnerable there, hanging in the blackness of the void, that they found themselves suddenly concerned for its safety, rather as a soldier in wartime might fear, not for his own life but for his abandoned loved ones back home. One could so easily imagine some cosmic calamity sweeping it away, and the rest of creation not even noticing, or much caring if it did.

  'It taxes one's faith terribly,' Freddy had opined. 'What do you make of it all, eh?'

  'I don't see why it should,' said Charles. 'This is how it has always been, after all. The only thing that has changed is our perspective. For myself, I find it inspiring.'

  But as time passed they began, inevitably, to turn their attention inwards. Life must go on, and the ship was their world now; though that, too, seemed to be rapidly shrinking, becoming ever more cramped and crowded as each day passed. Only Daphne continued to haunt first one porthole then another, even when the Earth had become just another star, barely distinguishable from the myriad others around it.

  'This was the last place on the ship where you could see it and now it's gone,' she sighed. 'Gone forever.'

  'Not forever,' said Wilfred. 'You'll be able to come home to visit sometimes. You'll be able to do as you like when you're the queen.'

  'I doubt it,' said Daphne morosely. 'Veleema says it's like being prime minister, parliament and the law courts all rolled into one, not to mention a goddess to the thaalid. It's probably just as well the Venusian day is longer than ours because it's a wonder one gets time to sleep, let alone have any fun.'

  'Is that what you call her, Veleema?' asked Wilfred. 'I thought a woman speaking to, or of, another had always to use the matronymic or else she insulted the mother.'

  'Yes, that's right. But she doesn't even keep to the rules. One day she said she was going to call me just Pepseema and I could take the rest as read and I could do the same with her to make it fair, only I wasn't to tell anybody. I think perhaps she didn't like my mother very much because she always seems to choke on her name, as if she can hardly bring herself to say it, so it's probably better that she doesn't — say it, I mean. You wouldn't think she'd want to insult her, though, would you? After all, for aught she knows I might be quite upset about her dying. Not that I am, because one can hardly be upset about someone one's never known and never will, can one? Anyway, now I have told someone, I've told you, and I daresay I'll get into trouble for it, though I don't much care about that either. I always seem to be in trouble for something or other, so one more thing won't make muc
h difference.'

  Wilfred tried to say that it didn't matter because he wasn't going to split, but he could tell she wasn't listening. She just carried on with her wild and confused rambling. He was beginning to think she might not be very well.

  'Anyway,' she said, suddenly stamping a foot, 'I don't even like Pepseema; it sounds like an indigestion remedy or something. And queens are always named Chopminta in public because the thaalid want to pretend they're the original Voorni and that was her name, so when we arrive I won't even be Pepseema anymore, so what's the point? Not that Chopminta is much of an improvement. In fact, it's worse. I don't see why I should have to use either of them, do you? I don't see why I shouldn't just be Queen Daphne if I want. I happen to like her and I don't want to just leave her behind like that.'

  She fell silent for a while, still gazing sadly at the emptiness of space, and when at last she turned to him her eyes were full of tears.

  'The fact is,' she blurted, 'I don't want to go! There! Now I've said it. You can jolly well tell her if you like and I don't care! I don't want to go to Venus and I don't want to be their queen. I never asked to be. I wish I'd never agreed to it. I thought it would be exciting and an adventure but the lessons are so boring and difficult and I know I won't be any good at it. I'm too stupid to be a queen. I'm too stupid to be anything. I keep forgetting things and getting them all mixed up and I'm so frightened and lonely and Mummy will be worrying about me and . . . oh I miss her so!'

  Wilfred watched helplessly as she sank onto the room's little metal-framed cot and began to weep as if her heart would break. Now, more than ever, he yearned to take her in his arms, to tell her that she would never have to be frightened or lonely as long as he, her gentil, parfait knight, had breath enough in his body to defend her. He felt like punching Charles on the nose. Why wasn't he here when he was needed? Had he even noticed how pale and quiet she had become lately? Had anyone?