by Peter Oxley
Satisfied that we had cleared this obstacle, we struck off at once towards the west.
Half a day later, we passed through a sentry gate and then cleared a rise to be confronted with the welcome sight of Hughenden Manor, Disraeli’s country pile. The building’s squat yet imposing bulk was in turn surrounded by an army waiting for the orders to move out and attack, trampling the once-majestic gardens into a brown and red mass of mud, tents, men and horses.
As we entered through the manor’s main doors I realised just how bedraggled we were. After all, it had been many, many days since any of us had had the luxury of a wash or a change of clothing. As a result I felt even more of an impostor in those stately surroundings than I would normally have done.
We were led directly to a study on the ground floor in which stood the welcoming figure of Benjamin Disraeli.
“My dear fellows!” He shook each of our hands vigorously in turn, touching his lips to the hands of Kate and Lexie. He glanced at Gaap. “Is that…?”
“It is,” I said. “You may remember Gaap from the battle at St Albans last year.”
“How could I forget,” muttered Disraeli. “The fiend manipulated the Queen and I to act against our wishes, and nearly caused all our deaths. Is there a reason it is here?”
Gaap leered at him. “My time will come again, you just wait until—” He was silenced by Andras’ elbow meeting his face with some force.
“We took Gaap prisoner when we were in Almadel, and I am keen to ensure he remains safely incapacitated,” said Andras. “As a result, I am afraid he must remain with me.”
“Indeed,” said Disraeli, casting a cold eye over the two demons before turning back to the rest of us. “In any case, we have been awaiting your return with much trepidation. And, of course, there is one who is particularly keen to see you.” He beckoned towards the door behind us and we turned to see Maxwell being wheeled in by a butler.
“Max!” Both Kate and I said, rushing to his side.
As uneasy as ever in the face of physical displays of affection, Maxwell waved away our greetings, although he did flash a broad smile at each of us. “I knew my calculations would be correct,” he said. “Tell me, Sergeant, how accurate was my estimation as to the timing?”
“Very accurate, sir,” said Sergeant Jones.
“It was very much to the good that Sergeant Jones and his men arrived when they did,” I said. “No sooner had we managed to make our way back to this world than we were apprehended by a rather unusual regiment of soldiers.”
“They were not soldiers of the type I would recognise,” snapped Pearce sniffily.
“I am afraid you are correct, Captain,” said Disraeli. “But you must all be famished after such a long journey. My housekeepers will arrange some refreshments and we can all share stories as to what has happened over the past few months.”
Further warm greetings ensued when we were joined in the dining room by General Gordon, the military leader who had been as constant a presence in the battle against the demons as any of us. I was particularly relieved to see that he had not been affected by the fugue caused by the changes in the sky; but then again, if someone with as redoubtable a character as Gordon had been incapacitated, then surely the rest of us would have been doomed as well.
Disraeli and the others listened keenly as we told them of our exploits in Almadel and beyond the Aether. When we had finished, the statesman clapped his hands together.
“Sergeant Jones has told you of his journey to meet me?” he said.
“Aye, sir,” said Jones, “although I didn’t get to tell them of when I actually met you.”
Disraeli nodded. “Well, after having had a highly successful trip around the continent, which I shall tell you all about at a later date,” he nodded to Andras as he said this and I noted that the demon nodded back. I narrowed my eyes as I wondered just what Andras was up to this time. In the meantime, Disraeli continued: “I was in London when the sky went missing, although I suspect it took rather longer for the natives there to notice that than in most other parts of the world. After the constant fog of pollution, a bit of a void was no doubt a welcome relief to some.” He paused to allow all those listening to chuckle at this. Ever the showman, even in the midst of a crisis. “I also witnessed many people falling into the strange catatonic state that Jones has no doubt already told you of. Those of us who were unaffected tried our hardest to help those who were, but to no avail.”
“Gladstone…?” I asked, wondering if maybe the Prime Minister had also been affected by this condition.
“Alas, no,” said Disraeli. “Mr Gladstone retained all of his faculties. Not that one would necessarily notice the difference, that is.”
Kate tutted at him in mock reproach and Disraeli held up his hands in apology. “I could not resist,” he chuckled. “In any case, as would be expected, Gladstone lived down to my every expectation as to how he managed the crisis. It took very little time and only a small amount of lobbying before the Queen invited me to take charge of an emergency government.”
A smile spread across Pearce’s face. “So you are the Prime Minister again?” he asked.
Disraeli nodded. “Not that I find much pleasure in our situation, you understand. That said, I find myself more invigorated by being able to properly shape results rather than being forced to stand by and watch as that jumped-up preacher ruins everything.”
I could not help but smile; in spite of everything that had happened, Disraeli still could not shake the animosity he felt for his old political adversary. “And so why are you here, rather than in Downing Street?” I asked.
“Shortly after Sergeant Jones found us, we came under attack from his former Satan-worshipping comrades. We fought a rear-guard action to get as many people out as possible, but London is for the time being lost.”
“The Queen?” asked Pearce.
“Is perfectly safe,” replied Disraeli. “She has gone to Balmoral with her Household Guards. Given that the majority of the trouble is centred around St Albans and the southeast, for the time being at least, I felt it was the safest course of action.”
Pearce nodded. “And it looks like you have been gathering together quite an army here yourself, sir.”
“Yes,” said Disraeli. “Word has been spreading far and wide that the main centre of operations is here, for now, anyway. In the meantime, we need to determine a way to stop the Satanists, Soul-less and demons and reverse whatever it is that has happened to our world.”
“I assume, then, that this is not just a phenomenon limited to England?” I asked.
Disraeli shook his head. “I have already had word from Europe and the Americas that they are all experiencing the same issues that we are. Whilst our Continental cousins were previously content to cut us off and pretend that the Fulcrum was a peculiarly English problem, they have now been forced to recognise that we are all in it together, as it were.” He raised those bushy eyebrows at us. “Not that I take any pleasure in the fact, you understand.”
I looked over at Maxwell, who had been scribbling away at various pieces of paper whilst we had been talking. “Well, Max,” I said to him. “I am assuming that you have a theory or two about what has been happening here?”
“I do, I do,” he muttered absentmindedly. Then, looking up: “There are a great many variables at play right now.”
I took a deep breath and steeled myself for another endless session of meaningless scientific babbling.
“I have missed this,” Andras grinned, throwing himself into a chair next to Maxwell. “What are your thoughts old chap?”
Maxwell blinked at him before glancing down at his papers. “As always, the Fulcrum is at the heart of what has happened. It has provided the power to enable the various portals to and from the Aether to open, disgorging the residue that has infected our world.”
“Tell them your theory about the sky,” prompted Disraeli.
“Ah yes. I have run several tests over the past few week
s, trying to ascertain what exactly it is that is obscuring our view of the heavens. The results were somewhat perplexing, until now.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“I had expected to find some form of matter or barrier but in fact I found nothing at all.” He looked round at us expectantly and then scowled. “Do you not understand? There is nothing there. No barrier, just a complete absence of anything at all.”
“Which must mean…?” prompted Andras.
Maxwell rifled through his papers, tutting as he discarded one and then another before he finally reached the one he was looking for.
He turned and beckoned towards the butler just behind his left shoulder. “I need you to bring me the pile of books stacked on the Aethereal research side of my study,” he said.
“Of course,” said the butler. “Which side would that be, exactly?”
“As you enter the study,” Maxwell explained slowly, “you will see my mechanical research papers to your left, then the demonic research, then the memoirs and diaries that I have compiled, then there are the grimoires…” He shook his head as he realised the impossibility of what he was asking the poor man to do. “It would be easier if we were all to go to my study. Shall we?” He waved to the butler to wheel him out of the room.
I shot an amused glance at Disraeli, who nodded and ushered us forwards to follow my brother.
The study that Maxwell had appropriated in Hughenden Manor was reassuringly similar to every other study and laboratory he had had over the years. What had once clearly been a fine room decked with glorious furniture was now a mess of papers and apparatus, with the no doubt highly expensive pieces being used as little more than shelves and worktops.
“You managed to bring so much with you,” noted Joshua.
“Yes,” said Jones, a tinge of irritation touching his voice, “Mr Potts was very insistent that we bring as much as we could, even in spite of the advancing enemy forces and the need for speed.”
I chuckled as I found a spare space to stand, leaning myself against a wall in preparation for the lengthy conversation to follow.
Maxwell had stationed himself in the midst of his papers and set about working his way through them until he finally held one aloft with a broad grin. “This is the one, just where I said it would be.” He shot a reproachful glance at the butler.
“You were saying,” prompted Andras, “about the results of your testing?”
“Yes,” said Maxwell. “As I said, I saw nothing in those results. Literally and precisely nothing.” He looked around at us expectantly before continuing. “Don’t you see? Such a thing is just not possible. There always has to be something there; nature abhors a vacuum, after all.”
“But when we were in the afterlife,” said Pearce, “the sky there was an exact replica of what we’re seeing here; there was certainly nothing up there.”
“How could you be so sure?” Maxwell fixed him with a questioning stare. “You certainly may have perceived it as being nothing, but surely you had no way of knowing that.”
“I just knew…” muttered Pearce.
“Such a place was beyond anything that you could comprehend,” continued Maxwell. “You had managed to transport yourselves to another reality completely removed from this one, and so the laws we are accustomed to in this world cannot even be said to come close to applying there. By the by,” he turned to Joshua, “when all of this is over I really must pick your brains on everything you learnt, encountered and did in that place.”
Joshua looked up from where he had been sharing a whispered conversation with Lexie. “Hmm? Oh yes, of course.”
“In any case,” continued Maxwell, seeming to either not care or not notice Joshua’s lack of interest in proceedings, “I think that we can safely discount the possibility that our whole world has been transported to the afterlife. For one thing, the evidence does not support it: you saw a black smoke,” he consulted another set of notes, “seeping through the portal between the Aether and this world, having left Pearce’s body, that would suggest more of an infection rather than a wholesale transportation spell. And notwithstanding that, the amount of power and energy required to move an entire world into a separate realm or beyond all realms would be…?” He gestured to Andras expectantly.
“Unimaginably huge amounts would be required to even consider such a thing,” Andras said, nodding.
“…therefore we should assume that there has been some form of infection that has caused these changes to our physical environment as well as precipitating all the other changes we have witnessed since that point.”
“But you said that your tests showed no results whatsoever,” said Byron. “How could that be?”
“It could only mean one thing: the shift between science and magic that was precipitated by the Fulcrum is much further advanced than I had anticipated. I had always predicted this happening, that there would come a point where magic was more prevalent than science—meaning that my old scientific methods and tests became redundant. I always assumed that that would be a gradual process as our calculations seemed to suggest, did they not Lexie?”
Lexie looked up at him blankly and I again wondered what she and her brother were whispering to each other. After a moment she blinked and then nodded. “Yes, there was a graph; it was a bell-shaped curve. I remember now.”
“Indeed. However it appears that the change has happened much more rapidly than anticipated, and the evidence would point to the mysterious black smoke you witnessed having acted as a catalyst for that final push.”
“So the sky is still there, it has simply been obscured?” said Disraeli.
“In a manner of speaking, yes,” nodded Maxwell, rifling through his notes.
Andras was frowning. “But if that was the case, it would still take an extraordinary amount of power to achieve this. In order to do so you would need…” We all watched him expectantly as he stared into space, his eyes widening. After a moment he noticed our eyes on him and quickly added: “Great power.” I noted that his gaze flickered over me, Byron and Gaap as he said this.
“It would,” agreed Maxwell. “But the evidence seems to point in that direction, would it not? The only question is, what could create and sustain such power?”
“The Four Kings?” asked Byron.
Andras shook his head “No, no. They would not be able to do so without Gaap here.”
I raised an eyebrow. “But I thought you always said he was just a lackey?”
I was not sure if my eyes deceived me but it appeared that Andras almost squirmed under this questioning. “Yes, well, every demon has their place and their assigned task.”
“And that is why you wanted to bring him with us?” asked Pearce, a rare smile touching his lips. “I may have to revise my opinion of you, demon. We have not only gained ourselves a hostage but a valuable one that the Four Kings will want to get their hands back on, as our custodianship frustrates their plans. Good thinking.”
I looked over at the bound figure of Gaap, who Andras had still refused to let out of his sight. The demon seemed almost confused by this turn of events.
“Yes, indeed,” agreed Andras quickly.
“The question remains,” continued Maxwell, glaring at everyone as he fought to bring the room’s attention back to himself, “if this was some form of infection then why has it been as selective as it has?”
“Those of us who were in the Aether at the time were free from any exposure at all,” I said. “We have already established that.”
“But the rest of us… what is so different about us and the soldiers around this room compared to the multitudes out there who swiftly degenerated into an almost dreamlike state?”
“I suppose we know there’s something what’s worth fighting for,” observed Kate.
All the eyes on the room suddenly turned to her, including an increasingly agitated Andras. “What?” she asked, clearly surprised that such an offhand comment could have warranted so much attention.<
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Everyone seemed to be missing something very obvious. “But was it not the case that Pearce was possessed by the creatures from the afterlife?” I asked.
“Yes,” said Byron slowly. “What’s your point?”
“The black smoke that infected this world came directly from him,” I said. “And Andras said that they would all be gone from his body now, is that not correct? Possession is an ‘all-or-nothing deal’, I think you mentioned?”
“I did,” nodded Andras.
“Where did the creatures from the afterlife go? We’ve not seen any of them in this world so far.”
The resulting silence was broken by Andras tapping his clawed fingers on the surface of a table. “We have seen them. They are everywhere. Don’t you understand? They are the reason that so many people have been acting differently, lethargically, insane or simply turning into Soul-less. They are possessing everyone who does not attempt to fight their influence.” He frowned. “But it would require huge amounts of power to even attempt that…”
He started to pace the room, dragging Gaap with him like a recalcitrant puppy. After a couple of turns he spun round to face Maxwell. “Do you still have the objects that were found in that other realm? When Kate was kidnapped?”
“Yes,” said Maxwell, pointing to a table against the far wall. “Over there.” Andras darted over to it, pausing only to hand Gaap’s leash to Pearce. He picked up the various objects, scrutinising them before tossing them back down onto the table. Spinning back round, he marched over to Jones. “What did that man say to you? The one who talked about a ‘new world order’?”