by Peter Oxley
“Well, blow me,” said Kate. “Chinese Gordon.”
He smiled and inclined his head. “Indeed, ma’am,” he said modestly and we all stared at this man about whom we had heard so much, the hero of the Crimea and the Chinese wars. I felt my spirits lift at the thought of us having the cream of the British Army at our side.
“So,” he said. “I understand you have a plan to end all of this madness. We have two thousand men waiting to march on Greenwich, assuming you can convince me that that is the course of action which we should follow.” He sat in one of the few chairs not already occupied by Maxwell’s clutter and crossed his legs. “Convince me.”
Chapter 41
We stood by the river and stared at the boat which we had commandeered, or at least something with pretensions of being a boat.
“Will it float?” I asked.
“Of course it will,” said Maxwell. “The structure is sound, there are no leaks.”
“That’s not quite what I meant,” I said. “It’s a bit... primitive.”
“It will get us there,” said N’yotsu. “Hopefully in one piece. For the sake of this journey, the less ostentatious the better.”
“Yes,” I said. “I suppose if we are spotted they will just assume that we are a piece of floating wreckage.”
As was so often the case, N’yotsu missed my sarcasm. “That was exactly what we were thinking,” he said.
We stood in silence for a moment, contemplating impending death at the hands of Andras and his hordes from Hell, or perhaps by drowning on our way to engage them. Sensing that we were all just seeking to delay the inevitable, I flashed a smile at them all. “Well, shall we?” I said as I gestured to the craft. “We have a world to save.”
Maxwell and N’yotsu complied, clambering into the boat and trying to make themselves as secure as possible. Kate, though, stood unmoving.
“Kate?” I said, fearing that we had reached the limits of her hitherto boundless enthusiasm.
She was staring off into the distance and I followed her gaze to see a giant stone man standing on the shore. “Well I never,” I said. “Is that...?”
“It would appear so,” said N’yotsu. “Or at least one of the golems. The fact that it is not running about causing chaos may suggest it is ours.”
“Or it could just be having a rest,” I said.
“The dock-works where you left him are near here, are they not?” Maxwell said to Kate. “In which case it is in all likelihood the one which we pacified.” He stared at it, wistfully. “A golem could be handy, given what we are about to do.”
Kate grinned at us and then ran off in the direction of the creature. “Kate, wait!” I shouted.
She stopped and looked back over her shoulder. “You go, I’ll catch you up.” She sprinted off.
“The girl is impossible,” I said.
“Maybe,” said Maxwell. “But she has just made our job a lot easier in terms of rowing down the river. One less body to weigh down the boat.” He grinned as he handed me an oar. “Might reduce our chances of sinking.”
“You fill me with confidence,” I said.
* * *
After only half an hour of rowing, my arms throbbed. Whilst we appeared to have made some progress, I was not convinced that we had travelled as far as we should have.
“Maybe it would have been quicker to walk,” I grunted.
“No,” said Maxwell. “This is much more direct.”
I glanced over at N’yotsu, who was pulling at an oar with a grim determination. “Are you all right?” I asked him.
“I just want to get this over with,” he said. “I did not realise exactly how much I dislike water.”
* * *
It felt as though days had passed rather than mere hours and minutes, but at length we finally rounded a bend in the river and caught our first glimpse of Greenwich and its royal palaces. I had always enjoyed the majestic sight of the perfectly laid out buildings with their ornately structured grounds, but the sight before us was of a different order completely. The complex was shrouded in shadow, the source being the huge beam of energy which projected from the roof of the Royal Observatory. The beam thrust up into the sky, terminating in the vast hole to the Aether which had plagued our progress ever since we returned within sight of London.
“Uh-oh,” said N’yotsu.
“Yes,” I said. “The portal looks bigger, or is that just because we’re closer?”
“I was thinking more about that.” He nodded at the water in front of us, where a strange eddy appeared to be flowing right toward us, as though water were being pumped in our direction. As it drew nearer I realised that there was actually something in the water—something quite large and very determined. A mouth opened, showing rows of teeth as large as gravestones.
“Can you swim?” I shouted.
“I have a pathological fear of water,” shouted N’yotsu. “What do you think?” He thrashed at the water with his oar in spectacularly ineffective desperation.
The creature roared toward us and at the last minute veered to the side, drenching us with spray and nearly tipping us into the river. I shouted, my voice feeling empty in the rushing air caused by the creature’s passage. We gripped the sides of the decrepit boat as it rocked from side-to-side.
“What’s it doing?” shouted Maxwell as the creature circled round in front of us.
“Toying with us,” I called back. “Your pistol—is it to hand?” I had one hand on my sword but it was next to useless unless the creature drew close enough. In any case, if we were close enough to the creature to allow me to wield the sword we would likely already be dead.
Maxwell passed the pistol back to me and I hastily checked that it was loaded before arming the secondary Aetheric barrel. I followed the creature’s progress with the sight, waiting until it was almost upon us and I was confident that I could not miss, before squeezing the trigger. The creature wheeled away with a satisfying screech and I made sure of its retreat by firing the rest of the bullets into its wake.
“More bullets?” I shouted. Maxwell looked at me blankly before nodding and tossing me a small brown bag. I looked inside at only a dozen bullets and cursed; I could already see the creature readying itself for another attack, wounded but by no means discouraged. We need another plan, I thought, as I reloaded the pistol.
“N’yotsu, is there anything you can do? Any incantations or magic stuff?” I looked at our friend, who was rigid in his seat. “N’yotsu?”
He turned his head and stared at me, eyes wide and teeth bared in sheer panic. My heart sank to see him in such an uncharacteristic state. I looked away, searching for anything which could prove to be of assistance. My eyes rested on a shadowy form just a short distance away: a long, low barge.
“Max!” I pointed at the barge. “Row that way!” I emptied the chambers of the pistol at the creature and, as it spun away screaming with rage once more, we both ploughed at the water, desperately hoping that we could move fast enough to be safe before the creature recovered itself. The time for attacking was over; this was now a straight race for survival. N’yotsu sat unmoving between us, gripping his oar with hard, white knuckles.
The barge was tantalisingly close when the creature slammed into us, punching me from my seat and into the air, my oar swinging uselessly. The river hit me like a brick wall and, for a moment, I feared that the skin had been torn from my face and arms by the sheer force of the impact. Water filled my eyes, nose, ears and mouth as I plunged into the cold darkness, before I managed to claw myself back up into the sweet, cool air.
The world I re-entered was a confusion of waves and noise, my ability to discern direction completely compromised by the manner in which I had been tossed into the river. I thrashed around until I recognised a low, dark shape above the water and swam toward it with the desperation of the condemned man clutching at an improbable reprieve, hoping that my target was the barge, rather than the murderous creature.
After a few interminab
le moments my hand hit a solid wall and I scrabbled for a purchase, eventually finding one about midway up. I pulled and kicked my way up and over, the fear of attack at any moment lending me extra strength and impetus. I rolled onto the deck and gagged; once the immediate exertions of my desperate swim to safety had passed, I had no more distractions from the pungent, frigid river water which now permeated my whole being.
I finished retching and hoisted myself to my knees. Squinting through burning eyes into the murky depths, I pulled my sword from its bindings on my back and held it in readiness to fend off a final attack. A shadow flitted past and I jerked away from the edge with my sword raised, recognising the prowling form of the creature. I cast around, looking for any sign of my brother and N’yotsu, but all was in vain; aside from the scattered wreckage of our boat and the menace of the creature, the river was empty. In another time the sight of the river so calm would have been a welcome miracle, if not an impossibility when the city was fully populated; in the circumstances, though, it made me want to howl in frustration.
I caught sight of something which was neither wood nor oversized beast, floating within arm’s reach and reached down quickly to pull it up, praying that it was a human form. It transpired to be a bundle of wet material, enclosing something firm and heavy: Maxwell’s new weapon, the one which had the potential to destroy all in its path. I set it down on the deck with a thunk and gazed at it, noting with satisfaction that the waterproof wrapping had held firm. For a moment, I considered using the weapon to destroy the creature in the river below, thereby enabling me to search for my companions unhindered, but I remembered that it contained enough power for just one shot. With a sinking heart, I realised that I had to save the weapon for the greater threat: Andras and the machine creating the portal to the Aether. But then again, what chance did I have without Maxwell and N’yotsu?
At one time, I would have thrown myself into the challenge with reckless abandon, welcoming the opportunity to pit my wits against a much more powerful foe and emerge victorious. However, my recent trials had served to unman me somewhat, and even the sword in my hand betrayed me; whilst at one time it had been a constant source of energy and reassurance, now it felt heavy and unwieldy as it dangled at my side. I took deep breaths as I fought to regain control of my body and nerves, desperately willing myself to stop shaking.
I stood there for some minutes before I finally made up my mind. There was no point in agonising any further: I was not going to see my companions in the water. There was every chance that they had managed to escape the beast just as I had, but then pulled themselves out of the water further downriver. Regardless, I had the weapon and it was incumbent on me to get to the Observatory; even if Maxwell and N’yotsu were not there, I might find a way to thwart Andras. If all else failed, I could kill the demon. Our world might go to Hell, but there would be some satisfaction in knowing that at least Andras would not reap the rewards.
I stood and swung the sack containing the weapon over my shoulder, casting one last futile glance at the river. The barge upon which I stood was moored to a jetty by a series of stout ropes, leading on to dry land. I made my way carefully along, keeping one eye on the water lest our tormentor attempt to lunge at me once more. I breathed a sigh of relief when both feet were safely back on terra firma.
I scanned the riverbank on either side, hoping for a glimpse of my companions, but was once again frustrated. With the reassuring weight of Maxwell’s weapon fixed tight to my back, I oriented myself and started walking toward the observatory and the source of that vivid pillar of misery. In the distance I could hear gunfire and realised that at least that element of our plan was proceeding apace; I owed it to Captain Pearce and his men to uphold our side of the bargain.
I considered taking a roundabout route, avoiding buildings and the risk of confrontation, but then resolved that speed was of the essence. As a result, I took the most direct passage, through the grounds of the Greenwich Palaces. I walked in between the King Charles Block and the Queen Anne Block, the perfectly clean architecture and well-manicured lawns a reminder of more peaceful times, which served to merely enhance the feelings of intense dislocation which permeated my entire being. Everywhere was deserted, all residents having either fled the grounds or been forcibly ejected by Andras and its agents. Whilst I was able to make quick progress, I also grew increasingly unnerved at the emptiness I encountered and allowed myself a smile. “You are complaining because you are not being overwhelmed by demons? You have a strange sense of priorities, Gus,” I muttered to myself with a mirthless chuckle.
I looked up at the portal to the Aether, a black monstrosity which was now almost directly overhead. In spite of its size and the violence with which it was wrenching aside the veil of our reality, it was entirely without sound, causing me to wonder once more whether I was actually trapped in some form of a dream of the worst order. From this distance I could make out figures flying from the portal and casting away in all directions in search of richer pickings further afield, knowing that the immediate locality had long been abandoned by their prey. Thankfully, none of them showed any indication of having spotted me, or if they did they considered me too inconsequential to merit an attack. I hoped that that fortunate state would persist as I continued on my way, fighting the instinct to dart for cover. I looked back to earth and focused on my target: the great hill which housed the Royal Observatory.
I still consider it a wonder that, given all I had been through, I was able to make it up that hill, overcoming not only my own fatigue but also the sheer terror of what I would confront when I made it to the top. But make it I did, and finally I stood before the door to the observatory, panting hard but still in the fight.
From that vantage point I could discern, in the streets and gardens below me, the battle which was raging between the forces of Andras and those soldiers who remained loyal to humanity. Clearly this was the reason for my unhindered passage, and for that I was extremely grateful. Whilst the combatants below appeared to be fairly evenly matched, I was appalled to note that larger, darker forms were joining the battle. No doubt demons of varying breeds, they were making short work of the soldiers they encountered. If there had been any doubt as to what I should do, this sight extinguished it completely; I would not let them die in vain and I would do everything in my power to stop this madness before too many more lives were lost. I just hoped that I had the courage to follow through with this resolve.
I swung the wet bag from my shoulder and removed the weapon, admiring its brutal mass. I found the disc to activate it and clicked it in place, allowing myself a short sigh of relief when the whole thing began to vibrate gently in my hands. I pointed it at the entrance, making sure that my finger was near but not touching the trigger, and then pushed open the door to the Royal Observatory, the weapon in one hand and my sword in the other.
I held my breath as I stepped inside, noting with apprehensive surprise how empty the building felt. I allowed myself a frisson of hope; maybe everyone—and everything—had truly been distracted by the attack in the town below, allowing me to proceed with my mission unimpeded.
I passed through the entrance corridor and the North-East Room and from there made my way, slowly and stealthily, up the stairs to the grand Octagon Room which sat directly beneath the great dome. Ordinarily this would have looked up to the heavens in all their glory but it now had a much more sinister purpose: as the conduit through which the beam of light projected, ripping apart the boundary between our world and the Hell of the Aether.
In the centre of the room sat the source of all this misery, the device which Maxwell had unwittingly created. The plain ugliness of its construction leant it a sinister character, as though it were a silent beast watching me and picking its moment to attack.
I noticed a figure sitting next to it and tensed up, raising the weapon and touching my finger to the trigger. I relaxed slightly when I noticed that it was unmoving, eyes staring sightlessly at some invisible horror, and
with a sinking heart recognised the corpse of our once-friend, Richard Fitzsimmons. “So you carried on helping Andras right to the end,” I said quietly, kneeling next to his body. His face was twisted in a rictus of terror and I gently ran my fingers over his face, closing his eyelids. “Rest in peace, old friend,” I muttered.
“You will not win, you know,” said a voice which rang out loud in that big space. I turned to see the scrawny, bespectacled figure of Dr. Forsyth stepping out of the shadows, a pistol held in his hands. He pointed it at me with shaking hands and everything about his demeanour indicated that—even if this was not the first time he had held a gun—it was not an experience to which he was accustomed.
I sneered and stepped toward him. After my many brushes with the supernatural, facing this insect was a blessed relief, even if he did have a pistol aimed intermittently at my head. He looked more and more petrified with every step I took, such that I almost pitied him. I put my sword and musket down and straightened up slowly. “What are you going to do, traitor?” I asked. “Go on, shoot me.” Adrenaline coursed through my veins as I stared at the barrel of his gun, grinning like the Devil Himself. Even if the fool could muster the courage to shoot at me, I was confident that there was a significantly less than even chance that he would be able to hit me, even at that close range.
He swallowed and blinked and I took advantage of his momentary lapse in concentration to charge forwards, felling him with one mighty punch. I pulled him up by the lapels and slammed him against the wall, regarding this all-mighty scientist and finding him wanting. The blood ran hot through my head as I butted him hard and let him slide limply to the ground. “Should have left Richard alive to protect your precious machine,” I said as I retrieved my weapons. “At least he would have had the guts to pull the trigger.”
I looked at the device and then down at the weapon in my hand, stepping backwards and aiming it at the heart of the machine. In the absence of any other adversaries, I could at least close the portal. My finger closed around the trigger.