by Kage Baker
“I shall not disappoint them, sir,” said Edward.
“I know you will not,” said Dr. Nennys, and then in quite a different voice said, “Richardson! You needn’t lurk out there. Come in.”
Richardson opened the doors once more and stepped through into the drawing room. He beheld Edward, looking somewhat downcast, and Dr. Nennys, who still looked to be in a nasty temper.
Dr. Nennys informed Richardson that Edward was to repair to Portsmouth by the first of September, and go aboard HMS Repulsion. Richardson was presented with a sum of money with which to buy a sea-chest and suitable clothing for a midshipman. Dr. Nennys shook Edward’s hand and took his leave, promising that they would meet again.
The money provided by Edward’s remote parent was by no means generous. Coach fare to Portsmouth bit deeply into it; a night’s room at the Cock and Bottle ate up more. Edward’s measurements were taken at a tailor’s. The tailor then informed Richardson of the usual cost of fitting out a young gentleman in uniform.
Richardson blanched. Edward looked from one to the other uneasily. The tailor added that he did have some stock of ready-mades at a reduced price, since he was in the habit of purchasing the contents of sea-chests from the families of deceased officers. Given that the young gentleman was so unusually tall, it was entirely likely he would find something that fit him, which would save time as well as money.
They were shown the stock, a great deal of which was moth-eaten and antiquated. The tailor proudly held up a pair of knee-breeches Nelson himself might have worn. Edward looked piteously at Richardson. Richardson scowled and dug into his own purse to have two pairs of trousers new made, at least, with new linen. The cheapest of the hats was produced, an old cocked bicorn devoid of gold lace or any other distinction, and set on Edward’s head; a midshipman’s dirk was retrieved from a dusty boxful of them and pressed into Edward’s hand.
A man’s jacket was found, not too out-of-date, with a few hanging threads where its epaulets had been cut away. The sleeves were too short, but the tailor assured them he could let the cuffs out and the jacket would serve admirably, assuming the young gentleman had left off growing and the one or two moth-holes were patched.
Richardson brought the young scarecrow and his sea-chest to the Repulsion’s berth, where he once again shook hands and reminded Edward of his duty to his God and his Queen. He slipped most of his remaining money into Edward’s pocket and turned away from his forlorn charge, hoping to catch the late coach so as to avoid paying for another night’s lodging. As it was, Richardson had to do without breakfast and leave the coach at Esher, limping the rest of the way into London. Cook opened the kitchen door to him when he reached No. 10 at last, and thought he looked as though he had aged twenty years.
1847: In Adamantine Chains and Penal Fire
“I wondered if you’d turn up!”
Dr. Nennys turned at the hoarse greeting, and found himself face-to-face with the old man, staring at him across the short stretch of pavement that separated them. The other’s eyes were red, his cheeks sunken in; he had shaved in haste and carelessly, leaving white chin-stubble glinting in the morning light. He stood straight, though, his spine stiffened by rage. He took a lurching step toward Dr. Nennys.
“Have you seen him yet? Have you? Eh?”
“I arrived here not five minutes ago for that very purpose,” said Dr. Nennys. “Richardson, I believe?”
“You know I am, sir,” said he, baring his teeth. “Have you come from his damned father? Or is he content to let his boy hang? Eh? So long as nobody knows the truth? That’d be convenient for him, wouldn’t it?
Wouldn’t it, damn you?”
“Calm yourself! I came at his express wish, if you must know, to learn the truth of the matter.”
“Then, sir, in God’s name, do something for him! He didn’t mutiny. The other officers will testify he never mutinied. He laid hands on a superior officer, right enough, but that captain’s a madman. The men’ll tell you. He was a hero, damn you, he’d been made a commander! He followed his duty as he saw it. Oh, this fucking worthless Navy—”
“Richardson, your agitation is understandable, but I will not listen to such language.” Dr. Nennys’s quiet voice cut through Richardson’s wrath like steel. The old man halted, put his shoulders back to stand ramrod-upright.
“Sir! Very sorry, sir.”
“I will do what I can for him, of course. Where is he?”
“They’ve still got him chained up in the Zagreus,” said Richardson, a slight quaver coming into his voice. “In a foul little box, naked, like he was an animal. I don’t think they know what to do yet. Captain Southbey’s still in bed with sticking plasters all over his face. I only talked to some acting commander. There’s somebody from the Admiralty expected in a day or so. Likely they’ll judge him then. Please, sir—”
“Where are we?” Dr. Nennys glanced up at the inn sign above their heads. “The Keppel’s Head? I’ll tell you what, Richardson. You take yourself in there and have a brandy to settle your nerves. Or gin, if you prefer. Here.” He drew a sovereign from his pocket and held it out to the old man.
Richardson went pale, affronted, but he took the money. “Very good, sir. Thank you, sir.”
“There’s a good fellow. I’ll just go aboard the Zagreus. We’ll speak later.”
Dr. Nennys was obliged to display a great many documents once he had gone aboard the Zagreus, but he had come prepared. In the end he was escorted down into the hold by a pair of very deferential Marines, who were so considerate as to bring a chair and set it in place for him outside what looked like a cupboard door.
“Unlock it, if you please,” said Dr. Nennys. “And be so good as to leave the lantern.”
“Yes, sir,” said the more talkative of the two. He obeyed and they took their leave. Dr. Nennys sat still a moment, observing the noisome surroundings, listening to the tidal wash against the ship’s hull. Then he reached out and opened the door.
The space beyond was no more than a meter high and two meters long, slightly less than a meter deep. Edward Alton Bell-Fairfax sat within, in chains fastened to an iron bolt in the bulkhead. He peered out at the lamp, blinking, for it blinded him as thoroughly as if it had been the sun at noon.
Dr. Nennys looked closely. The hopeful boy he had remembered was gone. The young man in chains was a hulking giant, gaunt, unshaven, with bitterness and exhaustion smoldering in his pale eyes. For a moment Edward stared at Dr. Nennys, blank as a big animal. At last he turned his face away, baring long teeth.
“Bell-Fairfax,” said Dr. Nennys, putting a world of sorrowful reproach into the name. “How has it come to this? You nearly killed your commanding officer.”
“I ought to have killed him outright,” said Edward, and his voice was now a man’s voice, a dark tenor. “Since I’m to hang for it. Yes. That’s my only regret, that I couldn’t keep on beating his head against the deck until his skull split. D’you remember Scargill, sir, when we were at Overton? It was like that. Just exactly like that. I thought of stopping, but he was a bully, really a foul murdering little monkey in a uniform, I could see he wasn’t going to give over the flogging until he’d killed Price and, and I just thought, Well, the world will be better off without a creature like this in it. Shame they stopped me.”
“My dear boy,” said Dr. Nennys, in affected tones. “And what of the noble ideals with which you entered Her Majesty’s Navy?”
“What of them?” Edward grimaced. “I went in resolved to do my duty. Imagine my surprise on learning that my duty involved blowing the Chinese to fragments, and all because they had the temerity to refuse to buy British opium! But I did my duty, sir. I was commended by my captain and promoted.
“Then I was given a command and sent to patrol the Ivory Coast, and my duty there was to stop any ships attempting to transport slaves from Africa. I was so happy, sir! An inarguably moral cause in which I might serve. I was to capture slave ships and bring them in as prizes, you see?”
“And so you did,” said Dr. Nennys. “Zealously. We heard great things of you, my boy.”
“But it wasn’t enough, sir. I couldn’t stop them. Ships I brought in were merely sold, with their cargoes of slaves, refitted and sent back about their business. I could name you upright British merchants, Christian men all, who worked hand in glove with the Portuguese!
“So I began to set the blacks ashore, and burn the ships I took. Even this wasn’t enough. I led expeditions to the barracoons where slaves were embarked. I set them free there, too. I burned the warehouses and the smithies where chains were forged. Damn me, do you know, the blacks fought to defend them? I had half a dozen black kings complain to me about the destruction of their property.
“One day a warship brought an admiral, and I was summoned aboard and made to give an account of myself. I was told my zeal was excessive. ‘Where are your prizes? Principles are all very well, but business is business, don’t you know?’ And they took me from my duty, sir, and sent me here aboard the Zagreus.
“I soon saw what manner of captain I had to serve under, and what his particular pleasure was. I thought I’d seen cruelty before, sir, in the service, but I never dreamed men like Jeremiah Southbey existed. Men are murdered here, always under color of discipline and law. I watched my fellow officers’ faces and saw that they’d do nothing, for fear and custom. And then Price broke a basin in the galley, and Southbey would’ve had him flogged to death for it. The rest you know.
“So I will die, sir. But as God is my witness—if He isn’t blind and deaf—I could not have acted otherwise.”
“Well.” Dr. Nennys stroked his chin. “I am to take it, then, that you’ve grown disillusioned? You’ve seen the ways of the world, and they disgust you? The pettiness of mediocre men in office, for example? The hypocrisy of the Church?”
Edward gave a hoarse chuckle. “Well put, sir.”
“And you face the gallows without fear, happy to leave such a world?”
“I do.”
“Would you not rather make it a better world?”
“Were there any chance of doing so, sir, I should cheerfully devote my life to such a cause. But I’ve learned rather more about the nature of humanity than you meant to teach me, I fear.”
Dr. Nennys smiled. “Not at all, my boy. You’ve learnt precisely what we wanted you to learn.”
Edward’s eyes burned through the shadows. “Have the kindness to explain yourself, Doctor.”
“This ordeal was the last necessary lesson,” said Dr. Nennys. “You’ve seen how futile are the efforts of second-rate politicians, and pious frauds, in improving the lot of mankind. Now then, Bell-Fairfax! You are ready to take up the great cause for which I have readied you since your boyhood—the cause for which you were born, one might say.”
Edward held up his arms, displaying his chains. “And how am I to take up any cause, sir?”
“Tell me first whether you’re willing.”
“You know I am!”
“Then watch and listen.” Dr. Nennys stood, and called to the Marine who stood guard at the companionway. “You there! Pray inform your commanding officer I’d like a word with him. And have the prisoner’s sea-chest brought. He’s being transferred.”
Both the Sergeant of Marines and the acting captain came, and looked gravely at the written order Dr. Nennys showed them, with all its seals and signatures and countersignatures. Dr. Nennys added a few quiet words about it being the Admiralty’s wish that this matter be handled with the utmost discretion.
He met with no arguments. Edward’s shackles were unlocked, he was permitted to crawl from his cell—though he was still unable to stand to his full height, belowdecks—and dress himself. The Sergeant of Marines approached with a pair of handcuffs, but Dr. Nennys waved his hand dismissively.
“How shall he carry his trunk, man, wearing those? I’ll take full responsibility for the prisoner.”
“As you like,” muttered the sergeant. He avoided looking at Edward, as did the rest of the crew when Edward followed Dr. Nennys on deck and down the gangplank to the dock. From somewhere up among the rigging, however, came a cry of “Three cheers for Mr. Bell-Fairfax!”
“Who said that? Take that man’s name!” cried the acting captain, but the answer was a derisive laugh, as the topmen whooped and scrambled above like monkeys. From the depths of the ship came faint calls of “hurray, hurray, hurray,” and looking back Dr. Nennys saw faces peering from gunports, from the masthead platforms, even one or two wizened countenances pressed to the scuppers. Edward set his sea-trunk on his shoulder and gave them an ironic salute. He turned away from the Zagreus and followed Dr. Nennys ashore.
“And that is power,” said Dr. Nennys smugly.
Rooms were taken at the Keppel’s Head. Richardson quite broke down on seeing Edward; when he had recovered himself he was sent to a haberdasher’s, and then to engage the services of a tailor. The tailor was duly brought and took Edward’s measurements, clicking his tongue as he calculated the amount of yardage necessary to clothe Edward like a gentleman. Having been promised an extra five pounds if he worked through the night, the tailor hurried away to produce a suit of clothes. A bath was drawn; Edward emerged from it to find supper had been brought up. Richardson waited on Edward with trembling hands, until Edward bid him sit and eat.
During all this time Dr. Nennys made no reference to Edward’s release, other than to allude to some great matter to be discussed at a more convenient moment. Nor were any details forthcoming until after the tailor delivered Edward’s garments the next day, when Richardson was sent ahead to the new railway station with Edward’s trunk carried by an obsequious porter.
“Let us walk, Bell-Fairfax,” said Dr. Nennys, stepping out on the pavement. Edward stepped down beside him and Dr. Nennys tilted back his head, considering the tailor’s work. All around them was the bustle of Portsmouth, the ship-chandler’s agents hurrying to and fro, the sailors ashore roistering, the shouts of the workers in the refitting yards. Out of uniform, Edward faded into the background—or very nearly, allowing for the fact that he towered over every other mortal on the street by a good head.
“I have waited a great many years for this day, I may tell you,” said Dr. Nennys, as they started up the Hard toward Park Road.
“And why would that be, sir?” said Edward, tipping his hat to a passing lady.
“I brought you into the world, my boy. Surely you’ve suspected as much? And you may have felt some shame at the irregular circumstances of your birth. Do not. There was nothing sordid or accidental about it. You were planned for, Bell-Fairfax, you were needed. Shall I tell you by whom?”
Edward had stopped on the pavement, staring at him, but caught up in two long strides. “Please, sir!”
“Then hear me out. A great many ages of the world ago, in a great civilization long since vanished, the most intelligent men of their nation looked about them and drew exactly the same conclusions you have drawn, in your time in the Navy. There was no shortage of valiant heroes desiring to make the world an earthly paradise, but they were continually foiled by the greed and sloth of their rulers. Science was made to serve the vanity of kings, or banned outright by superstitious priests.
“And so they came together, these good and wise men, and formed a society to work in secret for the improvement of the world. Only Science, they felt, could alleviate human suffering, by developing advances in medicine, in agriculture, in sanitation. Only a hierarchy of great intellects should guide and rule mankind.
“This hierarchy, working in the shadows over centuries, brought its nation to unparalleled prosperity and comfort. Yet its members saw all too plainly that human nature would pull their empire down. Therefore they fled, taking their arcane knowledge with them, and so survived the catastrophe to confer their benefits on other nations.
“You would recognize many names among its members, over the ages. Archimedes, for example. Heron of Alexandria! Vitruvius. Their inventions were
brilliant, and yet how often did they offer their gifts, only to see the ignorant and ungrateful multitudes reject them? You may, perhaps, invent a marvelous lamp that burns without oil; but you will find the oil merchant then becomes your enemy.
“So matters stood in the last days of the Emperor Augustus. The Roman Empire was in full flower, but the signs of its decay were already too obvious to the members of the hierarchy. They convened a meeting in a house at Ostia, to determine whether they ought to continue their long struggle. Many among them despaired of ever succeeding. But even as they were about to cast their votes for dissolution, something extraordinary happened.
“A stranger entered the room. He informed them that he was one of their own members, but from an epoch far in the future. He exhorted them to continue their good work, even to expand their operations, for the day would come when they would indeed rule mankind with wisdom and benevolence! Not only would Science conquer Time and overcome its limits, it would defeat Age, Death and Illness as well. Men would live in undreamed-of comfort.
“The stranger presented them with a chest bound in silver. Within this chest, he said, was all that was needed to ensure their victory.
“Having said this, he vanished from among them like a shadow. The silver-bound chest remained on the table, however.
“The most senior member of the hierarchy opened the chest, and I need hardly tell you that his hands were trembling as he did so. Shall I tell you what he found inside?”
Edward looked around them at the commonplace world he had inhabited before this moment. The grimy street, the idlers sauntering to and fro, the rumbling wagons full of pitch or ship’s biscuit bound for some dreary and interminable voyage: all of them were about to vanish, like a painted curtain rising to reveal . . .
“What was it, sir?”
“Nothing more than a folded sheet of parchment,” said Dr. Nennys placidly. “Yet it was a kind of parchment they had never seen, white as the snows of Aetna. It was closely covered with written instructions. They were to go to the widow of a certain pig farmer, and give her sickly child certain medicines, in order that he might live to manhood and become one of their number. They were to invest certain sums with certain merchants. They were to make copies of every book they owned, and keep them at a certain location in the Alps. There were certain undesirable men who must be removed from office, by whatever means might be managed. And one of their number must seek out a certain woman and marry her, and produce as many heirs as possible.