The Circus Infinitus - Genesis Infinitus

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The Circus Infinitus - Genesis Infinitus Page 15

by Ethan Somerville


  Icarus sighed in disappointment and straightened up. “What’s wrong?”

  “I was wondering what it’s for.”

  “What? The difference engine? To control the Omniportallis, of course. I thought you knew that.”

  “Yes, but to what end? Once you control the Omniportallis, then what?”

  “Why, I will be able to open a portal to anywhere!” Icarus proclaimed theatrically. “We can travel all over the world!”

  “I understand that, but my point is – what will we do?”

  “What d’you mean?”

  Del sighed. “I mean, what will be our purpose? Will we journey to new places to simply skulk in basements the whole time? I’ll wager a cellar in France will be much like a cellar here.”

  Icarus scratched at his metal chin. “I see your point. You know, I never thought about it like that. My whole purpose for completing the Omniportallis is to fulfill Leonardo’s dream – and have a bolt-hole should the Stigmata come after me again.”

  “Even the Dobbs brothers don’t like lurking down here day in and day out.”

  “Yes, they’ve gone looking for a brothel that won’t slam its doors in their faces.” Icarus began pacing around the laboratory in thought. “I’ve been hiding for so long I’ve forgotten what it’s like to do anything else.”

  “Is your church still such a threat? When was the last time it made its presence known to you?”

  “Not for many years. But it’s still out there – you can see its influence in modern society’s strict moral code – it has never been so bad. Back in the late sixteen hundreds you could get away with practically anything. But now I can’t afford to let my guard down for a second.”

  Del sat down on the work-bench stool. “We need an occupation, Icarus.”

  Icarus snickered. “You’re not happy catering to all those sex-starved West End gentlemen?”

  “It’s not something I want to do for the rest of my life!” Del retorted. “And besides, even though they pay me extremely well, all my cash is immediately sucked into your confounded machine!”

  “This ‘confounded machine’ may one day help you!” Icarus shouted.

  Del lifted a placating hand. “Fair enough, but my point is - if we want to do anything other than this, we will need a great deal more money! Everything is so damn expensive here.”

  Icarus was about to answer when he felt the now familiar presence of Tim and Tom Dobbs enter the circumference of his wards. They were moving very quickly, and from what surface emotions he could gather, they were extremely concerned! “Oh what now?” he exclaimed, rolling his single human eye.

  “What is it?” Del asked.

  “I expect we shall find out shortly!” Icarus glared at the laboratory door, and it unbolted, allowing the two zombie brothers to charge in, almost falling over each other in their haste. Had they been alive, they both would have been out of breath. Tom was wearing the mask Icarus had made for him, which he immediately shed as he headed over to the furnace, leaving Tim to face Icarus alone. Despite his small size, Icarus seemed to fill the entire lab with his fury. “What have you two clowns done?” he shouted, his mechanical voice shaking the walls.

  Tim glanced at Tom, who wasn’t even looking in his direction. “Don’t think you can get out of this because you can’t speak, you bastard,” he growled.

  Icarus planted his hands on his hips. “Well?”

  Del sensed their distress. “Icarus-“

  “Maybe the angry mob didn’t see us run down here.”

  “Angry MOB?” yelled Icarus. “All the effort I’ve made keeping hidden, and you two start a riot? You had better pray my wards are up to it, or I’ll let those barbarians have you!”

  Tim dropped his head. “I’m sorry Icarus – we thought we’d found a place that would have us, but as it turned out the lady wasn’t quite drunk enough. When Tom pulled his mask off she started screaming the place down about freaks from hell or something, and we had to run. Only this time she rallied a bunch of bully-boys to follow us.”

  “I told you two not to go out!”

  Tim drew himself up. He was still skinny, but nowhere near as emaciated as he had been before. Del now ensured that he got enough gun-powder. “Now look, you and Del might be all nice and cosy down here together, but we can’t stay cooped up like you! We like a bit of a drink and a party now and then!”

  “That was my point,” Del interrupted. Icarus glared at him, and his gaze could have cut glass.

  “I mean honestly – it’s time we took this little subterranean sideshow on the road!”

  “What?” Icarus gasped.

  Tim quaked, his bravado deserting him. “Um, I mean – perhaps it’s time we moved out of here.”

  Icarus stared at him. “Subterranean sideshow…”

  Tim shrank into himself, looking so dejected that Tom finally left the fireplace to lend him moral support. He glared at Icarus.

  Icarus grabbed Tim by his narrow shoulders. Tom was about to step in and try to separate them when Icarus exclaimed; “You’ve just given me a wonderful idea! We can form a circus! What better place for a bunch of freaks like us!”

  “Speak for yourself,” growled Del.

  Icarus turned. “And you can be the Ringmaster! You are perfect! Handsome and persuasive – a far better occupation than rent-boy, wouldn’t you say?”

  Despite himself, Tim snickered.

  But nothing could embarrass Del. “A circus?” he asked skeptically. “Some sort of traveling show? On my world they are hi-tech and spectacular, with numerous special effects, performers and weird alien displays. What are they like here?”

  “I haven’t been to a show for centuries. Perhaps you should visit one for yourself. In the meantime I will design a building to contain us, that will move with the Omniportallis. Tim and Tom, when the furor you’ve caused dies down, I will send you back out to find a female friend – someone who wants to join us, and more importantly, wants to become one of us.” He rubbed his hands together, suddenly fuelled with the new excitement of purpose. “I feel a need to power up the Immortality Machine!”

  Del slapped his forehead. “Not again!”

  But both Tom and Tim brightened at the prospect of actively recruiting a woman. “Sounds like something we can do!”

  Icarus wagged a metal finger in their faces. “No more trouble, or I shall stuff you both back into the Immortality Machine and reverse the process! Don’t think I can’t!””

  “No sir!” The zombie brothers actually saluted.

  Due to his incredibly quick mind, Icarus soon came up with a decent draft of the building’s structure. It could seat hundreds of people and had four rotating rings that required a complex gear-system to work them. It also possessed enormous steam-powered engines and a giant furnace with three chimneys. It was magnificent; Del had never seen anything like it. “But how are we going to build it?” he exclaimed. “I still don’t know much about the monetary system used here, but I can see that this will cost us … thousands. Perhaps even tens of thousands of pounds. Even if I sell myself for the next twenty years we won’t make that much!”

  Icarus, who had been so wrapped up in his grand vision, slowly returned to reality. “You’re right – I guess I did get a bit carried away. But it might be possible to get a loan.”

  “How?”

  “You can use your wonderful persuasive abilities on some unsuspecting bank manager. I know you’ve been working on them. Your customers are paying you more, aren’t they? Especially that Nicholas Gordon.”

  Del nodded. Lately, Nicholas Gordon had been showing up at the café with increasing regularity, just to see Del. He didn’t want anyone else, and appeared to have become infatuated with him. “He’s wealthy, but I doubt he’ll lend me that much cash.”

  Suddenly Icarus grabbed his arm. “No, but he runs a factory that will be able to make this structure!”

  “Gordon Steamworks! Of course!” Del exclaimed.

  “All you have t
o do is find out from him how much this structure will cost, then arrange the loan. You can do that, can’t you?”

  “In the past, definitely. But now…? This will take all my coercive ability.” Del rubbed his forehead. He was slowly getting used the full extent of his new power-level. He could influence most people, but only one at a time, and only if they were within a hundred yards. Fortunately, because of his gorgeous appearance, most people were instantly friendly towards him, making his job easier. But to persuade someone to help make this phenomenal building?

  Del had managed to visit a couple of traveling shows and theatres and found them nothing like the Eridon ones. The humans of this time had no access to the special effects he was used to, relying on silly pranks, jokes and a few bangs and flashes to impress the masses. Magic shows consisted of sleight of hand tricks, smoke, mirrors and clever manipulations of light and shadow. Acrobats possessed only a fraction of Eridon speed and agility. The freakshows he had visited relied on crude models, dwarves, grossly fat people and unfortunates with incurable deformities. Animal shows had only depressed him with their obvious cruelty. Trainers seemed to possess no empathy with their beasts whatsoever, relying on shouted orders, whips and prods.

  Del had no doubt that any performance he and Icarus organised would put all these sordid displays to shame. He had already persuaded Icarus that electrocuting himself on stage would easily impress the locals, and the cyborg was already planning devices that would make the whole process look even more spectacular. Sometimes Del wondered how Icarus could keep so many projects in his head.

  Icarus folded the plan of the giant circus building and handed it to Del. “Take this with you so you can show Gordon next time you see him.”

  “Are you sure? It’s an original, and the only copy you have.”

  “It’s all in here.” Icarus tapped his forehead. “It won’t take me long to draw it again.”

  The weather seemed to be cooling, with more frequent rain and drizzle. Del thought it would keep customers away, but business at the cafe continued regardless. Rich lords kept slumming it, and ordinary men dissatisfied with their marriages desired quick, anonymous fucks in alley-ways. Once while Del was waiting outside for work, the owner came to the door and signaled to the men, sending them scattering into the nearby streets and shops. It seemed some locals didn’t like the rent-boys, and sent regular calls to the police to come and arrest them. Del fled with them, still not used to the fact that sodomy was illegal here, and had to spend the next week or so away from the place. It was very bad for business, for both the rent-boys and the café owner, who made most of his money on the hungry youths.

  The others had grudgingly come to accept Del. They complained about him behind his back incessantly, for he always seemed to attract the most customers, but whenever he appeared, with his lovely long hair and bright smile, all their dislike dissipated and they were left wondering why they had been so hostile towards him. He never said much, but was always polite and invariably spent a huge sum in the café.

  “You keep eating like that and you’ll end up the size of a house,” Curly declared as Del appeared, stuffing the last of a cream bun into his mouth. “Every time I see you you’re eating!”

  “I’m hungry,” said Del. He searched Curly’s mind for the meaning behind ‘the size of a house’. It seemed humans couldn’t regulate their eating habits as efficiently as humans, ending up overweight if they consumed too much. “I will stop eating when I’m full.” Like that is going to happen, he thought morosely.

  Curly simply sniffed and cast his glance down the street for potential customers. A burly man soon appeared and gestured to Del. “Typical,” growled Curly as the pair disappeared down a side-street. “He’s just too damn pretty for his own good.”

  Another gentleman appeared on the opposite side of the street and cast a surreptitious glance towards the café. Despite his down-pulled hat, Curly recognised Nicholas Gordon. He gave him a hopeful smile, but Gordon shook his head.

  He’s after Frenchie, Curly thought darkly. Jealousy rose and he considered indicating that he hadn’t seen him, but then decided to gesture over his shoulder, towards the side-street. Gordon glanced in that direction. Curly saw him clench his hands into fists. That poor old sod’s really fallen for him, he thought. Why can’t someone feel like that about me? I don’t want to do this forever!

  Gordon hovered for a few minutes, revealing increasing agitation, then wandered off down the street. Curly knew he would be back. Then Del reappeared, once again as impeccable as always. Didn’t anything ruffle the fellow? He looked like he had just emerged from some up-market club! And the one who had taken him down that alley – he emerged looking like he’d been run-over by a coach! Del returned to the café.

  “Gordon’s looking for you. He went up the street, that way.” Curly pointed.

  The news seemed to brighten Del. “I’ve been waiting for him, too.” Before Curly could respond, Del headed off after him. Curly folded his arms and pouted. Unfortunately that didn’t make him any more attractive!

  Del spotted Gordon pacing on the corner, looking uncomfortable and out of place. His feelings told Del that he felt like he was being watched by a thousand eyes when in reality, most of the locals were too preoccupied to worry about the activities of one old sod.

  But when he saw Del approaching, all his worries melted away and a youthful glow came into his eyes. Suddenly he felt ten years younger. It took all of his self-control to keep from running up to Del and hugging him. He had to keep up the subterfuge, so he turned and headed off towards his flat as though he hadn’t recognised Del, leaving the Eridon to follow.

  Del realised the full extent of his feelings. He could probably ask him for a hundred pounds. He touched the folded plan inside his waist-coat. But something as large as this?

  Once again Nicholas Gordon took him through the careful rigmarole to his unit. Sometimes it changed, with the old man taking him on slightly different routes through the streets. But today he couldn’t wait and went in an almost-straight line. He met Del on the landing and virtually pulled him into the apartment. A whirlwind of activity followed, during which Del forgot all about the circus. He only remembered it when he was pulling on his clothes.

  Gordon sighed. He was worn out, and didn’t feel like going out for food. “Can’t we stay here?” he asked from the bed.

  “I’m hungry,” answered Del. “I need to eat. I feel … quite faint.”

  Gordon marveled at how well the young man was speaking now. He had a broad accent, but his words seemed to come easier each time he saw him. But he was exhausted. “I can’t move!”

  “Then I will go out by myself. I really need to eat.”

  Gordon had the entire night to spend with Del and didn’t want to be alone. So he roused himself and dressed. He had something important to ask the young man, and wanted the time to be right. He noticed Del slip a piece of paper into his waistcoat.

  “What’s that?”

  “It is … something I wish to discuss with you. Something important. A project. Can we talk about it over dinner?”

  A project? How curious. “Yes. I have something I need to ask you too.”

  Del stared at him, searching his surface thoughts, and saw what he wanted. His heart fell. He couldn’t accept. It went against his new plans. He couldn’t stop a sigh from escaping.

  “What’s wrong?” Gordon asked.

  “Just … hungry.”

  “Oh, you’re always hungry! I guarantee when you reach my age, you won’t be eating nearly as much!”

  Del just laughed.

  They ended up at their usual restaurant. Much to Gordon’s dismay, the maitre d’ recognised them and directed them to their favourite spot in the corner! “There aren’t as many people out to get you think there are,” Del told him.

  “You’d be surprised,” Gordon muttered. “I’m a very wealthy businessman. I’m sure any one of my rivals would leap at the chance to bury me alive. Now, sho
w me this secret plan of yours.” He gave a smile.

  So Del unfolded Icarus’s plan, drawn on cheap, stained paper, but with the most intricate detail that Gordon had seen. He had also never seen such a contraption, with its many layers and parts – truly, if it could be built it would be a marvel. “Did you draw this?” he exclaimed.

  “No – a ... a friend did. The person I am staying with. He is something of a scientist.”

  Gordon stared at the plan again. “Something of a genius,” he muttered. “How long did he take to draw this?”

  “Oh, a few days. But he was working on other projects at the time.”

  “A few days? This looks like it took months!”

  “It was all in his head. He just needed to record it.”

  Gordon whistled softly. “I would like to meet this friend of yours.”

  “That might be difficult – he is something of a … recluse.”

  “With a talent like this he could be the next Brunel…” Gordon tailed off, still marveling at the drawing. “Forgive me, but what actually is this building? These appear to be tiers of seats … and what are these? Mobile stages? Is it some sort of theatre?”

  “Close enough.”

  “And what’s this?” Gordon squinted – his eyesight was no longer as keen as it had been. “'A Da Vinci Company Design’?”

  Del hadn’t noticed the tiny, spidery words scrawled along the bottom of the page. “Um – that’s his business name ‘the Da Vinci Company’.”

  “Interesting. This plan is worthy of Da Vinci.”

  Del had to look into Gordon’s find to find out who Da Vinci was. He had never heard the name spoken before, and wondered why Icarus had written it on the plan instead of his own. From Nicholas’s mind, he learned that Da Vinci was a famous artist and inventor from several centuries earlier. He wondered if he was the one who had originally come up with the Immortality Machine and the Omniportallis.

  Del took a deep breath. “Can you build this … Da Vinci theatre, Nicholas?”

  The old industrialist looked up. “Build it? I would love to, but it would cost me thousands … tens of thousands of pounds. Perhaps even more. Not to mention the large block of land you’d need to buy to put it on. Forgive me Adam, but where can a poor rent-boy like you get such money?”

 

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