Jack wasn’t sure he followed what Mr Doyle was saying, but it sounded big.
‘I was ready to decline their invitation,’ Mr Doyle told Churchill. ‘I was hoping to spend some time with my son.’
Long believed to have died in the war, Phillip Doyle had been found alive, but greatly affected by his experiences. Now on the mend, he had regular visits from Mr Doyle.
‘I promise we’ll make this up to you,’ Kitchener promised.
Churchill paused at the front door as he led them out. ‘I know you’re not keen to go,’ he said, ‘but there’s much at stake here. Britain may again be at war and we’ll need all the allies we can gather.’
‘I doubt we can find this mythical sword,’ Mr Doyle warned, ‘but we’ll do what we can.’
Within minutes they were back on board the Lion’s Mane, returning to Bee Street.
‘You know what this means?’ Jack said to Scarlet.
‘What?’
‘We’ll be seeing some ninjas.’
‘Jack,’ Scarlet groaned. ‘There are no such things as ninjas.’
‘They were real in feudal Japan,’ Mr Doyle said, from his position at the console. ‘Unlike samurai warriors, who observed a strict code of conduct, ninjas acted as a kind of secret agent. Employed by princes or other powerful people, they would disguise themselves, carrying out acts of sabotage, assassination and espionage.’
‘So there may still be some around,’ Jack said.
‘I doubt it. They have not existed for many years.’
Jack was disappointed, but not ready to give up hope. Ninjas were trained in the art of concealment. Surely their best defence was making people believe they didn’t exist?
‘Will we be taking the Lion’s Mane?’ Scarlet asked.
‘No,’ Mr Doyle replied. ‘For this journey we’ll use something a little bigger.’
CHAPTER TWO
‘Bazookas,’ Jack breathed. ‘I’d forgotten the size of this thing.’
The London Metrotower was visible from all over the city, but it was rare to actually see it up close. Curving gently, it shot through the clouds and disappeared into the ether like a giant spear pointing into space. All along its length, Jack could see airships stopping at docks.
He had been up the Paris Metrotower during their first adventure with Mr Doyle, but the London tower was taller and wider—twenty miles across at the bottom, narrowing to a mile at the top. Located in Nortley, north of London, the iron and stone edifice was held together by Terrafirma, a type of mould invented by the Darwinists. Around its base, coal-powered stations dotted the landscape, spewing smoke and steam as they supplied energy to the building.
‘It is quite large,’ Mr Doyle agreed.
Passing through an arched entrance, they entered the domed foyer that contained a ten-foot high statue of Douglas Milverton, the inventor of Terrafirma, before purchasing tickets to go to the top.
Mr Doyle pointed to glowing, bell-shaped lamps over the elevators in the middle.
‘Darwinists are testing a new energy source,’ he explained. ‘A kind of algae that converts light to power.’
‘Amazing,’ Scarlet breathed. ‘What will they think of next?’
The elevator contained a score of seats. Some passengers produced newspapers while others closed their eyes to nap. A few elderly ladies pulled out knitting. Wheezing steam, the doors clanked shut, shuddered and the elevator started its ascent.
Jack knew the journey would take several hours, and they would have to change elevators several times because of the tower’s curve. As Scarlet took out a well-thumbed book, Jack groaned silently.
‘The Adventure of the Sun Men,’ she said, reading the cover. ‘One of the best books in the series.’
‘The sun men?’ Jack said.
‘They live on the sun,’ Scarlet explained.
‘I’m sure they do,’ Jack said, taking out his tatty copy of Ninety-Nine Ninjas. ‘Now this is what I call literature.’
‘I’m not sure that’s what I’d call it.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, look at the cover.’
It showed dozens of black clad figures attacking a single person who was dressed entirely in white.
‘Of course it’s literature,’ Jack said. ‘It’s action literature.’
Mr Doyle started reading a book about lion taming as he munched on a chunk of cheese. He carried cheese with him wherever he went. In fact, he rarely ate anything else.
They changed to another elevator at the one hundredth floor. This time there were no seats, so they stood. The next few hours seemed an endless repetition of changes. Jack wished they could have flown the Lion’s Mane to the tower, but Mr Doyle did not want to leave the little airship moored for so long.
At the top, they exited the lift unsteadily. They had arrived at a village square, where the ceiling was painted blue with a sun in one corner. Steamcars and horse-driven vehicles trundled past. Jack found it hard to believe they were still inside a building.
They angled past traders to the windows, where Jack felt a rush of vertigo as he looked at the Earth below, the cornflower blue horizon at its edge and the endless inky sea of space above.
Incredible, he thought.
Rounding the building, they found their space steamer moored to one of the docks.
‘The Katsu,’ Jack read. He was a huge fan of the space-faring vessels. ‘It’s a Japanese ship and can carry up to eight hundred passengers.’
‘It looks quite different to British steamers,’ Scarlet said.
Jack nodded. British steamers looked more like battleships. The Katsu, despite being made from iron, and driven by steam, was designed more like an old wooden ship, curving up at both ends with three wide smokestacks, shaped like ancient sails rising from the flattened deck.
‘I believe they’ve used a new form of Levaton on the hull,’ Mr Doyle said, referring to the substance used to keep it afloat. ‘They’ll use that to send people to the moon.’
Jack tried to imagine men walking on the moon. ‘It’s hard to believe such a thing is possible,’ he said.
‘Not just possible,’ Mr Doyle said. ‘The plans are well underway. A section of this station is dedicated to building the craft they’ll use for the journey.’
Hundreds of people were now streaming onto the ship, including diplomats accompanied by security guards and military personnel.
‘There’s the Australian representative,’ Scarlet said, pointing to a man with a kangaroo embroidered on the back of his coat. Another had the Eiffel Tower emblazoned on his sleeve. ‘And the French president.’
‘The newspapers reported this as the most important meeting since the formation of the League of Nations,’ Mr Doyle said. He pointed out several famous scientists to Jack and Scarlet. ‘Some of the best minds in the world are here.’
Making their way onto the ship, they arrowed towards the main observation lounge at the bow. A whistle rang through the ship, and then it cast off, leaving the metrotower behind.
‘The world looks qu
ite different from up here,’ Mr Doyle said.
‘It’s a beautiful place,’ Scarlet agreed.
‘And we want to keep it that way.’
Turning, they saw a stout, middle-aged man with a moustache and greying hair approaching.
‘Albert!’ Mr Doyle said.
‘Ignatius!’
After the men had warmly clasped hands, Mr Doyle made the introductions. ‘This is my old friend, Dr Albert Einstein,’ he said. ‘He’s with the American branch of the Darwinist League.’
‘Really?’ Jack said. ‘From your accent...’
‘I fled Germany years ago,’ Dr Einstein explained. ‘Thanks to the Nazis, Jews are no longer welcome there.’
‘I believe I’ve heard of you, sir,’ Scarlet said. ‘Your speciality is flying creatures?’
‘It is. Airships are the thing of the past and must make way for new modes of travel.’
‘Such as?’ Scarlet said.
Einstein smiled. ‘You will see them when we reach Japan. But I promise you this—airships will be a thing of the past.’
‘No more airships?’ Jack said. What would they fly on?
‘We Darwinists have only just scratched the surface when it comes to Biomechanics,’ Einstein continued. ‘This is a brave new world, and it’s being driven by cutting-edge science. The Japanese Darwinists are the leaders in these new technologies. Their inventions will change the world over the next few years.’
‘I’m not familiar with the term Biomechanics,’ Scarlet said.
‘The Darwinists are on one side of the fence, promoting a cleaner, better world through the use of engineered life forms. On the other side are the Metalists, hell-bent on keeping the world run by coal power and machines. They have described our work as ungodly and the work of the devil and believe all biological research should be immediately halted.’
‘That sounds very extreme,’ Jack said.
‘It is. Biological research has led to penicillin and other antibiotics that have saved millions of lives. And changes must be made now from steam to biology because of the Hot Earth crisis.’
‘I thought that Hot Earth was just a theory.’
‘The word “theory” has a different meaning to scientists. We define it as an explanation substantially tested and upon which one can make predictions.’
‘That sounds more like a fact.’
‘To all intents and purposes, it is unless a substantial piece of evidence disproves it. And that’s rare in most cases,’ Einstein said. ‘Where Hot Earth theory is concerned, it’s a fact. The earth is doomed unless we make changes and make them soon.’
‘Doomed?’ Jack exclaimed, his voice going up a note.
A few nearby passengers glanced up in alarm.
‘Perhaps we should retire to our cabin,’ Mr Doyle suggested, ‘and continue our discussion there.’
Their room was located at the starboard section of the ship. They ordered food and were soon eating steak and kidney pies. As Mr Doyle poured tea, he asked Einstein to tell them more about the Hot Earth theory.
‘Certainly,’ the doctor said, smiling. ‘As you know, the prime source of energy for modern civilisation is coal. We burn it to produce power, run our factories, steamcars—indeed, everything. A number of years ago, a Swedish scientist named Svante Arrhenius made a claim that carbon dioxide in our atmosphere could cause a blanket effect across the planet, resulting in a global warming effect.’
‘Is that a bad thing?’ Jack asked, thinking of how cold the winters were in England. ‘I wouldn’t mind a few more sunny days.’
‘If only it were that simple. Warming the atmosphere, even by a few degrees, will have catastrophic effects across the globe: rising sea levels, droughts, famine, forest fires... Governments have, so far, ignored our warnings, but it is clear to most Darwinists that things must change.’ Einstein sighed. ‘We must change or we’ll face certain disaster.’
Suddenly the space steamer shook, and tilted, sending Jack and the others crashing to the floor.
CHAPTER THREE
‘Good heavens!’ Mr Doyle cried.
He told Jack and Scarlet to remain in their cabin while he and Dr Einstein went to see what had happened. They returned several minutes later, looking grim.
‘There was an explosion in the main engine room,’ Mr Doyle said. ‘One man was killed and another injured.’
‘What a terrible accident!’ Scarlet said.
‘I doubt it is an accident,’ Einstein said. ‘It’s probably the work of the Metalists. They would like nothing more than to destroy the Darwinist League and stop the ratification of the Hot Earth Accord. Some would not stop at murder.’
Mr Doyle looked troubled. ‘This is not really what I had in mind,’ he said, ‘when I agreed to be the guest of honour.’
‘We need men of reason,’ Einstein said. ‘More now than ever. Only through science can we make the world a safer place.’
This is getting more dangerous by the minute, Jack thought. It’ll be a miracle if we reach Japan in one piece.
But despite his pessimism, they reached the Tokyo Metrotower late the next day without further incident. Jack’s mouth fell open when he saw the crimson square tower that resembled a pagoda. Its huge eaves jutted out for thousands of floors, all the way to the ground.
‘The Japanese certainly have their own way of doing things,’ Mr Doyle said. ‘Traditionally, the wide eaves were used to keep water off the walls of their homes. Obviously that doesn’t apply here, but they’ve retained the same style.’
Leaving the space steamer behind, Jack, Scarlet and Mr Doyle navigated to the middle of the metrotower. It was eerily reminiscent of its British counterpart, except the interior buildings were oriental in style: lots of square, bright-red buildings with small windows. Then Jack noticed the forms of transport people were using: carts drawn by ants the size of cows.
‘I’ve never seen anything like it,’ Scarlet said.
‘I imagine there’ll be much more to see,’ Mr Doyle said. ‘As Albert said, the Japanese are at the forefront of Darwinist innovation.’
Mr Doyle led them to an elevator marked Express Sled. It was a cylindrical room, with leather restraints attached to the walls, allowing people to stand upright.
Mr Doyle spoke fluent Japanese, but he asked the attendant to explain in English so Jack and Scarlet could understand.
‘We strap you in here,’ the man said, pointing to the restraints. ‘Then the elevator is released. The journey takes about fifteen minutes. About a mile from the ground, the brakes are applied and you gradually slide to a stop.’
‘Really?’ Scarlet said, dubiously. ‘Is it safe?’
‘Of course. Hundreds of people use the sled every day.’
‘Life is an adventure,’ Mr Doyle said, stepping inside. He paid their fare and the attendant locked them into place.
‘Mr Doyle,’ Scarlet said. ‘I don’t know if—’
‘Have a happy journey,’ the attendant said, closing the door.
Scarlet started again. ‘Maybe we should—’
&nb
sp; Then the elevator dropped and they fell at an incredible speed. A high-pitched whine came from outside: it sounded as though the elevator was skating along the edge of the shaft. Jack felt like his stomach was in his throat.
‘This reminds me of a case I once investigated,’ Mr Doyle yelled, ‘involving a test dummy, a catapult and a broken net—’
‘Some other time!’ Scarlet shrieked, her face white.
‘I’m sure we’ll be fine!’ Jack yelled. ‘They use this sled all the time.’
‘But what if something does go wrong?’
‘Then it’ll happen so fast we won’t know anything about it.’
His heart was beating fast, but he wasn’t scared. He’d faced far worse than this. There was little to look at, so he closed his eyes.
The compass and locket picture of his parents jangled in his pockets. For as long as he lived, Jack knew he would never forget the sight of them falling from the flying trapeze.
Falling...falling...
‘We’re almost there,’ Mr Doyle said.
Jack opened his eyes. The sound of the elevator had changed to a lower pitch. Within seconds it eased to a crawl and stopped. The door opened and an attendant, not unlike the one at the top of the tower, smiled and came inside to unbuckle them.
‘Did you enjoy the ride?’ he asked.
‘Enjoy probably isn’t the word I’d use,’ Scarlet said. ‘Or the word ride, for that matter. More like falling in extreme terror.’
Stepping from the cabin, his legs shaking, Jack found himself in a huge hall filled with milling crowds. Men and women were in kimonos, a type of wraparound dress. The men wore plain, dark colours while the women were dressed in bright patterns of flowers, lilies or birds. Everyone wore sandals. A few children hurried along with their parents, with odd-looking dogs on leashes. Or were they cats?
‘They’re catogs,’ Mr Doyle explained. ‘A combination of cat and dog.’
The Lost Sword Page 2