The Curse of the Silver Pharaoh

by Pip Ballantine

  Clearing his throat, Christopher lowered the telescope.

  “Let me have it,” Colin demanded, reaching for the telescope.

  “No, now it’s mine,” Christopher said, “but I’ll tell you what I saw with it: a sniper in those rocks.” The boys all began to slink back in unison. “The blighter wasn’t looking this way, you simpletons,” he hissed. “He was keeping an eye on the academy.”

  Colin finally spoke up after a moment. “Are Verity, Emma, and Henry going to be alright? I don’t want them to get hurt.”

  “None of us do,” Christopher assured him, “but maybe we can help make things a bit more difficult for that jammy bastard. Think we can pull off the Tag Rattler out here?”

  Colin scanned the horizon. “There’s ‘nuff hills and stones here to act like buildings I suppose. We’d have to spread out a bit more. Everyone got their taggers?”

  Christopher thought he really didn’t need to ask. Ever since Verity made them for the Seven, they’d become precious to all the lads. She didn’t often make anything dangerous, but the Seven were up against gangs bigger and meaner than themselves all the time, be they older children or men looking for tender, fresh flesh to sell. The only advantage was to have a bloody good clankerton on your side. And that was Verity.

  All the boys fished out their taggers, slipped their accompanying rings on the hand opposite of the Ministry trackers, and held them out on their palms for Christopher to examine. The taggers themselves looked just like the kind of flat rocks excellent for skipping across a river or stream. With his fingernail, Christopher flicked a tiny lever on the side of each tagger, and for just a moment a faint blue light flickered over the stone’s surface, the colour reflected in the metallic gleam of the rings. Now, the live taggers could not leave the hands of their holder without delivering quite a surprise.

  He tapped Colin on the shoulder before lowering his goggles across his face. “You’re the best at this game, so you go out front. I’ll take the twins and circle around the other way. If you doesn’t score, then it’s open for anyone else. Jonathan, Jeremy, since ya’ don’t have Cat’s Eyes, watch the stones.”

  The boys nodded, slow grins spreading on their faces. They hadn’t played for quite a few months, but he could feel it in their anticipation. They had been practicing.

  Christopher led Jonathan and Jeremy along the top of the hill, coming to stop to the right of the sniper. He found sneaking across the rocky terrain was easier if he thought of it as tenement buildings, fortunately the loose rock was no more difficult to navigate than the piles of rubbish in the alleyways of the East End.

  He found a space between two stacks of rocks, which the moors seemed to specialise in around here, and gestured the twins to follow him. The grey light filtering through the clouds proved very helpful in concealing them, not that their clothes were brightly patterned.

  Peering out from their vantage point, Christopher saw the man’s profile clearly through the Starlights. He could also make out Colin slinking his way up a slope, just out of the sniper’s field of vision. They had played tag rattler on some of the other gangs before, one time while being chased, but then none of those men had been equipped with a rifle. If Colin missed, the rest of them would have only seconds to take their chances.

  Christopher saw Colin wave once. “Get ready, lads,” he whispered to the twins.

  He saw Colin’s arm swing back and then whip forward. The only way to see the tagger itself was to follow the arc of blue electricity trailing from it, a feat that had to be learned with many hours of practise. On hearing the impact of the tagger against the sniper, Christopher followed the light trail back to Colin’s hand. Verity tried once explaining the mixture of æther and magnetism involved, but it was all just blather to them.

  What Christopher saw next was not what should have happened. Instead of toppling over, the sniper lurched to his feet, clutching his head. He jerked his hat off his head to examine it, and Christopher swore on seeing the featureless skullcap practically glowing in his enhanced vision.

  The sniper had been wearing a helmet.

  “Now,” Christopher cried out since there was no point of concealment. He and the twins leapt up again and sent their taggers flying. The little stones all connected with their target, one of the taggers connecting with the sniper square in his nose. Christopher could really not make out whose was the one that snapped the man’s head back, but the man was assuredly tagged. The way he flopped to the ground left nothing to the imagination.

  Christopher might not have understood Verity’s science, but he did love her taggers. Holding up one hand, he recalled his, and didn’t even wince when it struck his palm. It was only as bad as a hard slap on the hand.

  Tucking it in his pocket, he set a downward trot, and then up to the hill where the gunman lay. Colin had already claimed the man’s rifle while the twins were rummaging through his bag. With the swiftness of professionals, the boys all worked to strip him of anything useful. Colin even took his shoes. Christopher took it on himself to pat the man down. A wallet in one pocket, no surprises there.

  “‘Allo, ‘allo,” Christopher whispered as his hand felt something underneath one of his lapels. Holding up the small pin to his Starlight, he could just make out the jewellery design: a triangle surmounted by an eye. Even through the lenses, he could see some impressive detail in the pin, but why wear such a jewellery pin inside a lapel?

  When the London boys were done, the gunman was relieved of his money, boots, armaments, and probably his dignity to go with it.

  “One less person to bother Verity,” Christopher said, unable to stop the grin spreading on his face. “So, whatchathink? Can we lug this bag of bones back to the farm?”

  He watched Colin lean to one side. The boy was a bit stunned. “You want us to carry this blighter back to Mrs Summerson’s?”

  “Should keep us from getting bored out there. Besides, we need to find out wot he knows, right?”

  The twins let out little whoops.

  Colin hefted him by the shoulders and shrugged. “Not heavy compared to them hay bales we’ve been managing.”

  “Then Jonathan, Jeremy, you grab the legs. We’ll grab the arms.”

  Jonathan whispered to Jeremy. Jeremy whispered to Colin. “What if the bloke wakes up?” Colin asked.

  “You still got your taggers,” Christopher said.

  As they made their way back to the farmhouse with their unexpected quarry, Christopher felt a hint of happiness warm his heart—or it could have been the fold of newly acquired cash in his pocket.

  Chapter Nine

  Lasting Impressions

  Vidmar’s laboratory key became Verity’s prized possession, and she kept it in the pocket of her uniform. All weekend, Julia and Verity enjoyed spinning wild yarns about the alluring professor. Both girls brought Emma into the conversation, Emma doing a bang up job pretending to be somewhat of a stranger around Verity. The three of them recounted their first week to one another, and by Sunday night Room 213 served as a rather cosy meeting place for the three girls.

  With a new week ahead of her, Verity faced a morning of Chemistry. It was not her favourite subject, but she understood it was necessary for a clankerton to at least have the basic knowledge. That did not make the class itself any easier.

  Mrs Hazel Seddon was the teacher, but she was so hunchbacked when she went to the bench, Verity worried her fly-away white hair would catch fire. The woman was so old Verity absently wondered if she had been present at the formation of the most basic elements on the periodic table. Even the way she moved personified the pace of the class: a slow crawl.

  Verity fidgeted as Mrs Seddon began scrawling on the chalkboard, peering at the textbook and then writing with alarming regularity. Yes, with the emergence of the new periodic table, Seddon was perhaps working to stay on top of new developments, but surely she had to know about Mendeleev.

  “Thought this was supposed to be an elite school,” she hissed to Julia,
who was twirling her hair around her pencil and engaging in a battle of wills with a skinny white cat staring at them from the window ledge.

  Her classmate gave a little shrug. “I think the proper teacher was taken ill, and it’s harder to get a good replacement on short notice...and you know with the school’s reputation.”

  Verity’s focus immediately flipped to Julia. “But it’s elite, isn’t it?”

  Breaking off her battle with the cat, Julia grinned in a somewhat wicked fashion. “Oh yes, it’s that, but it’s also become rather accident prone of late. Remember our carriage ride in?”

  It was hardly something she would forget. Suddenly the fact they had a chemistry teacher at all was a kind of miracle.

  “Was there something you wanted to add, Miss Simmons?” a creaky voice asked.

  Verity straightened in her chair as she suddenly realized Mrs Seddon’s sharp blue eyes were fixed on her. “No, m’am,” she said, knowing her face was flushing bright red.

  Seddon closed her own text book with a sharp snap. “Then come up here and finish this infernal table.”

  Verity managed to slowly exhale through her nose what would have been a growl of frustration. She walked up to Mrs Seddon, who handed her the chalk and stood back. As she started writing the word “Phosphorous” she could hear someone snickering from behind her.

  Good morning, Suzanne, Verity seethed as she moved on to Sulphur.

  “Now then, class,” Seddon began, “Chemistry is the building blocks of life itself. A science that has seen more change in the past decade than any other science.”

  “Including Physics?” muttered Verity. Just in Astronomy alone…

  There was a second of silence, and then, “Yes, including Physics.”

  Verity paused. She looked over to Mrs Seddon who was giving her a hefty dose of sideways glances. “The building blocks of life. The very science of matter itself. So who can tell me what the states of matter are?”

  There was a rustle of fabric, followed by a voice which made Verity nearly drop her chalk. “Solid, liquid, gas.”

  “Very good, Miss Masters,” Seddon said. “Subsequently, there are six phase transitions where matter changes states. Who can name them?”

  Verity steeled herself for what came next. First Stella speaks, and then…

  “There is melting, in which solid becomes a liquid. Vaporisation, wherein a liquid becomes a gas…”

  While the first week had brought her, Julia, and Emma together, it also brought together Suzanne Celestene with Stella Masters. The two girls apparently discovered one another shortly after the row between Suzanne and Julia. It was nigh on impossible to find them separate from one another. In classes where they were together, the pair were incorrigible. Tweedledee and Tweeledum, without question.

  “…and the process where solids immediately become gas is called sublimation.”

  “Excellent work, Miss Celestene,” Seddon returned. “Top marks.”

  Top marks, Verity thought bitterly, because you talked about the change of states just last week, you old hag. It was as if Seddon’s entire knowledge of chemistry was the periodic table and the bare bones basics.

  “Is there a problem, Miss Simmons?”

  Verity paused in the middle of “Vanadium” to turn and note her Chemistry teacher. “Yes, Miss?”

  “You were whispering something under your breath.” Seddon stepped up only a few inches from her and asked, “Would you care to share your thoughts with us, Miss Simmons?”

  After staring at her for a moment, Verity couldn’t suppress the thought. “I was wondering when we actually get to handle chemicals, Miss?”

  “I take it you are not content with the pace which I set my classes at?”

  The old lady actually grinned at her, and when she heard both Suzanne and Stella snicker, she could not stop herself. “I’m just concerned as to when we will progress to actual chemistry experiments—before or after you turn a hundred?”

  The gasp from her classmates was music to her ears.

  “Class,” Seddon spoke, and Verity felt her smile falter, “follow me.” Verity jumped at the sudden clamour of her classmates coming to their feet. “Miss Simmons, you are with me. In the right hand cabinet behind me, you will find a small valise. Please pick that up and follow me.”

  Mrs Seddon took the lead and suddenly the decrepit old hunchback found a stride Verity was struggling to keep up with. The two of them led the class of fifteen out to an open field behind the academy. Perhaps it once served as a cricket pitch? It was hard to say as Verity’s mind was racing. What was the old crone up to?

  The old woman then spun on her heels. “Right then, you lot, stop right here.” She held up a single finger, “Anyone moves, anyone so much as takes one step beyond where they are now, and I swear I will have your guts for garters. Am I clear?”

  “Yes, Mrs Seddon,” the class mumbled.

  “Am. I. Clear?” she asked, her emphasis rather overwhelming.

  “Yes, Mrs Seddon.”

  “Miss Simmons. Come.”

  Verity tried to keep her wits about her. Whatever sleeping dragon she had awoken in Seddon, the beast was hungry.

  They continued to walk, the end of the pitch coming closer and closer until suddenly her teacher stopped. Verity looked back at the class, well over a hundred yards away.

  “Very good, Miss Simmons,” Mrs Seddon began, “now, if you please.”

  Verity opened up the case, revealing several test tubes of liquid. Some of the test tubes were clear. Some were cloudy. A few of the tubes held a reflective liquid. Inside there were also a variety of apparatuses. Clamps. Platforms. Connecting tubes.

  “This is what I need you to do…” and with Seddon talking her through the construction. Verity built a set-up for two test tubes. One liquid was crystal clear while another silver. She believed it to be mercury, but Seddon checked one of the tubes and shook her head. “No, that’s mercury,” she whispered before handing Verity a different tube of reflective liquid. The tubes were turned upside down, connecting to piping that was clamped tight. At the end of the piping was a small petri dish to catch whatever solution would result from the two elements mixing. The old woman reached into one of the side pouches inside the case and pulled out a small vial of white powder which she sprinkled into the petri dish.

  Seddon then motioned to a device in the top cover of the case. “Now, if you would connect this to the clamps.”

  Inside the top cover was a device which looked like a small metallic crab. She fastened the contraption’s claws to the clamps, as per Seddon’s instruction.

  “Now please, slide that small, black slab underneath the petri dish.”

  Once she was done, Verity looked up to her teacher who fished out of her coat pocket a small brass box with three switches. Her thumb flipped the first one and a red light flared on the controller. On the small metal crab, a red light in its back flickered on.

  “Please secure the case, and follow me, Miss Simmons.”

  The two traversed back to the class, all now huddling close to one another to stay warm. Verity had not noticed the chill in the air as her own skin prickled with heat. She was still infuriated with the old bat and her slow pace, but she was also embarrassed by this strange display of control.

  “If you will be so kind as to join your classmates.” Verity gave a quick nod, and took a place next to Julia. “Miss Simmons has voiced a concern of the pace I have set for your Chemistry class. So, let’s pretend I am not your teacher. Let’s pretend I am Headmistress Delancy. How many of you would second this summation of my class? Please, compared to your other classes, how many of you believe I am moving too slow?”

  Students looked at one another, curious perhaps as to who would side with Verity. Julia’s hand popped up. Which didn’t really surprise Verity. What did surprise her was when Gerald Cramer and Shamus O’Connor, two Third Year students, raised their hands. Verity knew about the two of them—prodigies in engineering. One by
one, other classmates quietly voiced their dissatisfaction.

  The only two students remaining loyal to Seddon? Tweedledee and Tweedledum.

  Mrs. Seddon nodded. “Yes, I am crawling. At a snail’s pace. Why? So far, we have talked about the basics of the states of matter. Melting. Vaporisation. Condensation. Freezing. Sublimation. We review the basics of Chemistry so that we understand and respect these states.” She looked down at the small controller in her hand and flipped the middle switch. A yellow light flickered on. “Without a proper amount of respect to the elements, to the basics of chemistry, you will not observe vaporisation. You will not observe condensation. You will not observe sublimation.”

  Then she threw the final switch. A green light started to blink. First it blinked every half-second. Then faster. Faster. The faster it blinked, the wider Mrs Seddon smiled.

  The light became solid just as the far end of the cricket pitch erupted into flames. The wave of heat combined with an invisible shockwave pushed them back a few steps. Mrs Seddon remained stock still.

  “You will observe combustion. High-temperature, exothermic redox chemical reaction gained from a solid, a liquid, and a gas. The solid being the powder in the petri dish. The liquid being the two vials Miss Simmons had secured in the apparatus. And finally, the gas. The final element—the very air you breathe—that creates combustion.” Seddon took a few steps towards Verity and added, “We are surrounded by an accelerant. This is why I take—my—time—in class.”

  “Hazel!” a voice called from behind them all.

  Mrs Seddon turned back towards the school and waved. “Morning, Lobelia!”

  Verity and her classmates turned back to see their headmistress taking wide strides down towards the pitch. “What did I tell you about these sort of demonstrations?”