Day of Rebellion

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Day of Rebellion Page 14

by Johnny O'Brien


  “Well that’s the harbour,” Jack said.

  “This place is complete mayhem,” Angus said, looking at the scene around them. “How are we supposed to find your dad amongst all these people?”

  “I don’t know. It’s weird to think that we were only a mile away on the outskirts of the city just days ago when we got ambushed by Backhouse and the Taiping…”

  Out in the harbour, the murky water was hardly visible. Gangplanks ran out from the sea wall and then from boat to boat forming a cobweb that entrapped everything from the lowliest rowing boats and junks up to the fine riverboats with their pagoda cabins. Beyond this, further out to sea, the Union Jack and Red Ensign fluttered from two sleek gunboats – sentinels at anchor, their decks swarming with sailors and marines, armed to the teeth.

  “Everyone’s trying to leave the city,” Jack said. “Remember what Fleming said – in a few hours’ time the place will be completely overrun by the Taiping. The harbour area will be the last place protected by the British.” Jack bit his lip in frustration. “We’ve got to find Dad before it’s too late. Let’s start working our way down the waterfront hotels and bars.”

  “What about that big one – the Wilting Poppy…?” Angus pointed across the street.

  “OK. Let’s try it. But we need to be careful. We know Fenton could be around here too…” Jack added under his breath, “Let’s hope we’re not too late.”

  They shoved their way through the crowds and street sellers who hawked everything from soup to flapping paper butterflies on sticks that bobbed and dipped above the crowd. Finally, they arrived outside the double doors of the Wilting Poppy.

  “Here goes…”

  Inside, the bar was surprisingly large and airy – a neat square room divided into equal thirds by two sets of pillars. The rattan tables and chairs were arranged either side of the room and there was a huge barometer behind the wooden bar. It was busy, and people were taking temporary refuge from the heat and crowds outside – most were waiting for evacuation. There was a lot of noise – women comforted their children and men exchanged rumours of the startling and frightening progress of the Taiping. Many were taking comfort in alcohol at the bar.

  Jack scanned the room, desperately looking for his father. Then, in a far corner a man caught his eye. He wore a frockcoat and stiff white collar and pored over a broadsheet, glass in hand, seemingly oblivious to everything going on around him. Jack could hardly contain his excitement.

  “Dad!”

  He started to push his way forward through the crowd, Angus following close behind. But they had arrived a moment too late. As if out of nowhere, a man suddenly barged past him. Jack tripped and fell to the floor.

  “How rude!” Jack heard a cross bystander exclaim. He scrambled up from the ground just as the man marched ominously towards his father. It was then that Jack realised that the man was holding a large black pistol. There was a scream and Jack saw his father look up and then jump to his feet in alarm as the man bore down on him. It all seemed to be happening in slow motion but Jack was powerless to do anything. He could not see the man’s face, but Jack could tell from his stature and gait that it was Fenton Pendelshape. Jack screamed a warning – but it was too late. Two shots rang out – they sounded strangely muffled in the crowded bar – then there was an incandescent flash of white light. There was a sudden piercing scream, followed by blind panic. Customers and staff hurled themselves through the exits, glasses smashed and chairs and tables went flying. In seconds Jack and Angus were alone in the bar, with a body on the floor: the body of Tom Christie, Jack’s father.

  Jack looked down, overwhelmed with grief. He reached out, grabbed his father and shook him. But it was no use. Jack felt blood on his hands – warm and sticky – he held his palms to his face and stared at them in disbelief.

  “Oh God…”

  “Get me out of this damned thing.”

  It was his father’s voice. Jack looked back down. Tom Christie’s eyes were wide open. He was very much alive.

  “Dad?”

  Jack’s eyes met his father’s and it was difficult to tell which of them looked most surprised.

  “Jack? But how?”

  “I could ask you the same thing, Dad. How did you survive a bullet in the chest?”

  “I’ve no idea how you got here – but I am glad to see you guys,” Christie said. “That was a close shave.” Christie tapped his chest, it made a hard, knocking sound. “Thought something like this might happen, I took precautions – Kevlar vest for a start.”

  “But what if he had gone for your head…”

  “He didn’t…”

  “But there’s blood.”

  “Yes – he got my arm. Need to get that seen to… my pack’s over there – there should be a medical kit… see what you can find.” He pulled himself up into a sitting position, “I’m going to have some nice bruises, my chest hurts like someone has run over it.” He scanned the inside of the bar, “Can’t stay here, police will be here in a minute. Ow! That hurts – hurry up – I need a bandage.”

  Jack and Angus helped Christie to his feet.

  “Through there?” Angus suggested, nodding towards the kitchen. “There should be water and stuff – we can try and get you patched up.”

  The kitchen was deserted. In minutes, Christie’s upper arm was strapped up but the bandage was already pink with the oozing blood. It was painful, but thankfully only a flesh wound. He swallowed a couple of painkillers from the medical kit.

  “I’ll be fine… just need to take a minute here…” he took deep breaths and gradually the colour started to return to his cheeks.

  “Drink this,” Jack proffered some water.

  “Thanks,” Christie looked at them both and took another deep breath. “I think we both have some explaining to do … then I think we need to get to work.”

  Christie spoke quickly as he explained the extraordinary course of events that had brought him to Shanghai. “I’m sorry about the cloak and dagger stuff back at the Bass Rock. I was worried that you might be followed. I’m afraid events then rather overtook us. Fenton infiltrated the base. To be honest, Pendelshape never really talked much about his son, but all along he was preparing for the day that the two of them would take over. Then Pendelshape died in France and Fenton blamed me – and you – he flew into a rage and made his move. He and his two cronies jumped me at the Revisionist base. They wounded me… but I managed to return the favour. In the end it was just me versus Fenton.”

  “The two men at the base – you killed them?” Jack was horrified.

  “Yes.” Guilt etched Christie’s face. “It all happened in a blur. It was them or me…”

  “I’m just glad you’re OK, Dad.” Jack thought for a moment. “You were injured and Fenton was still after you – so you escaped to the future using the Taurus?”

  “Yes. It’s something I’ve been working on. It’s why I wanted you to come to the base… the Taurus can take us to the future. It changes everything.”

  “Certainly gave us a bit of a surprise,” Angus said.

  “You must have followed me every step of the way. I’m impressed.”

  “We saw Fenton in the Taurus,” Jack explained. “For a moment we thought he was Pendelshape himself – they look so alike. We checked out the Taurus activity logs and decided to follow you both. We got to the base in the future and couldn’t work out what had happened. We saw all the ice and the rig and then we found your notes and reran your Timeline Simulation. But it was the activity logs that finally told us you had come back here – and showed that Fenton had followed you. We were worried, Dad, worried about what would happen.”

  Christie smiled. “Clever… very clever…” He put his good arm around Jack’s shoulder. “You guys are good. No wonder VIGIL want you on their side.”

  “What I don’t get though, Dad, is, what’s going on… I mean… what has happened to change the future so much?”

  “Yeah – we landed in this weird hardw
are shop – it had hair-dryers and kettles, and we’ve seen motor bikes, aeroplanes, lots of weird stuff that isn’t supposed to be around in 1860,” Angus said.

  “We got captured by the Taiping and then the Imperialists.” Jack saw the astonished look on his father’s face. “I can tell you, we’ve seen it all – it’s a bit of a story how we got back here, but the Taiping have quite modern weapons – and the Imperialist have some modern stuff too… in fact, they’ve even got a Zeppelin—”

  Christie’s eyes were on sticks, “A Zeppelin? Incredible…”

  “Not so incredible as it happens…” Angus added. “It blew up!” He tapped his face. “See these burns?”

  “All this is to do with what we saw in the future – the new ice age we saw – isn’t it Dad? That’s what you discovered when Fenton was chasing you…”

  “You’re right, Jack. I got in the Taurus to try and buy some time, to escape. But when I arrived at our base in the future, in 2046, I realised that something terrible had happened. The climate had changed. So I ran some simulations.”

  “Do you know what happened to change the future?”

  “Basically, there has been a massively accelerated industrial revolution. The industrialisation of China and the Far East has happened a century before it happens in our timeline – in ‘real’ history if you like. That’s created more rapid global warming and caused competition for resources – so you get Chinese oil rigs exploiting the Arctic as the climate warms up – but then there is a tipping point, the North Atlantic Drift seizes up and the climate flips the other way. Hence, a new ice age.”

  “And that ocean pump thingy stops,” Angus said. “Just like you said, Jack.”

  “OK, so what caused China to industrialise early?” Jack asked.

  “The simulations I ran suggested something in 1860, right here and now in Shanghai. That’s the simulation you saw on my computer and the notes I scribbled down. I thought it was due to the Taiping winning their civil war against the Imperialists, which, for some reason, caused China to industrialise much more quickly. I have only been here in Shanghai for a couple of hours but I already know that can’t be right. And you’ve confirmed it. You say that the technology and the weapons you’ve seen are all kind of jumbled up. It suggests that something must have happened much earlier than 1860. So I’m stuck, Jack, I don’t know which event caused the future to change, and unless we can find it, we can’t change the future back to how it is supposed to be.”

  Jack thought for a moment and then smacked his forehead, “I know!”

  “What?” exclaimed Christie and Angus in unison.

  “I mean I know when it was, the real turning point – the Point of Divergence, when everything changed,” he turned to Angus. “Captain Fleming told us…”

  “Did he?” Angus replied.

  Jack turned to his father, speaking quickly, “Fleming was an army captain we met and he said that it all goes back to a conference. There’s something called the Cambridge Philosophical Society – the CPS – a really powerful group of English scientists, led by a guy called Charles Babbage.”

  Tom Christie nodded. “Yes – I know who Babbage is. He invented the Difference Engine, he’s the father of modern computing, he was way ahead of his time.”

  “Right, anyway,” Jack continued. “The CPS ran a conference in 1836 at Cambridge University – Trinity College, I think. This conference was when Babbage and the other leaders of the CPS disclosed a series of new discoveries and inventions. All the top brass in government and the military were invited and apparently it had a massive impact. Fleming knew all about it even though it was twenty-five years ago; he talked about Babbage and the CPS like they were gods. They were called the ‘Science Lords’.”

  “Can you remember when the conference was?” Christie said.

  “Yes actually, the date stuck in my head. It was March 31st 1836.”

  “So you say Babbage and his CPS buddies presented new inventions at this conference… but where did Babbage get the information from?”

  Jack grinned, “I think we know that too, Dad.”

  He brought out the VIGIL device and placed it on the table.

  “It’s the reason we’ve been chased halfway round China…” Jack said. “But also the reason we’ve managed to stay alive. None of them really know how to use it… but they think we do and that we can interpret all its information for them. Josiah Backhouse was very excited about how it would give his Taiping friends an even bigger advantage against the Imperialists…”

  “Who’s Backhouse?”

  “Josiah Backhouse. Real weirdo.” Angus tapped his temple.

  “He is with the Taiping rebels, he’s English and used to be close to Babbage and in the CPS. He came to China to help the Taiping because they are Christians fighting the corrupt Chinese government. Then he started passing them technology secrets from the CPS… it’s one of the reasons he has become so powerful in the Taiping and that the Taiping have had success against the Imperialists. But the thing is, Dad, when Backhouse discovered we had this VIGIL device, he was really excited, he actually recognised it. He knew what it was: he had seen one before.”

  “We couldn’t believe it,” Angus added. “He called it the Babbage ‘Seeing Engine’ – weird name, I know. It’s like it’s some sort of magic thing. Which I guess it is, in a way.”

  “But Backhouse definitely had seen something similar,” said Jack. “So, somehow, the CPS, and therefore Babbage himself, must have got hold of a VIGIL device, just like mine, in 1836… or maybe even earlier. And that was the source of all their knowledge.”

  Christie nodded his head slowly, absorbing everything he had just heard. “Babbage was a genius. He also had a skill for taking difficult ideas and translating them into real working machines. There is no doubt that if he had a device like this he could have used the apps in there to design and build some modern technologies. It sounds like that’s what he and his CPS mates, including Backhouse, did. Britain already had a solid industrial base and could start to manufacture some of the new inventions… and then they’d have filtered out to the rest of the world.” He patted Jack on the back. “You’re a chip off the old block.” He paused. “But there is still the one fundamental question we haven’t answered…”

  “Right,” said Angus. “How did Babbage and Backhouse get hold of a VIGIL device in the first place…?”

  “Well it could only come from VIGIL themselves,” Jack said.

  “Yeah, but why would VIGIL do that – I mean leave something like this in the past?” Angus said. “It’s totally against all the rules.”

  “Yes – and we know why – it’s caused a horrendous mess.”

  “What next then?” asked Angus

  “We keep following the trail back in time until we get to the point where everything changes,” Christie said. “Ultimately we’re looking for the point where, for whatever reason, Babbage gets his hands on the VIGIL device. From that moment on, everything starts to change.”

  “And the next bit of the trail is the CPS conference,” said Jack.

  “Right,” Christie took out his time phone. We still have a time signal…What did you say that date was… 31st March … 1836?”

  Jack looked at his father’s bandages. “Dad – are you going to be OK?”

  “I’m fine… it’s just a scratch.”

  “But if we go back to 1836,” Angus said. “What about our friend Fenton. He’s just tried to kill you and he’s still out there, still time travelling around the universe… don’t we have to do something about him?”

  But they had no time to consider that complication, for at that moment there was a rattle of machine-gun fire from out on the waterfront, followed by screaming and shouting. The Taiping had finally broken through the last of the British defences around the harbour area and they were raising havoc.

  Just then, they heard a crash of glass from the bar.

  “It’s time to get going…” Christie said.


  There was another loud crash and a fierce-looking Taiping warrior burst into the kitchen. He held a carbine at his side and he wasn’t going to waste time by asking questions, but as his index finger twitched on the trigger of his gun, he got a big surprise. The three people at the table in front of him, quite suddenly, just vanished into thin air.

  Trinity

  CAMBRIDGE, ENGLAND, MARCH 1836

  They had landed in a small copse beyond the outskirts of Cambridge and they were now walking up King’s Parade. It was a fresh March afternoon towards the end of the Lent term and the street was busy with students and townsfolk visiting the nearby market. Jack, Angus and Christie took a brief detour into a student outfitters to find some more suitable clothing. They passed King’s College Chapel – a magnificent stone building, which towered fifty metres into a clear blue sky, eclipsing everything else around it. At each corner of the roof stood a high tower and built into the front elevation was a glorious stained-glass window. As they passed the great building Jack recalled the night they had climbed one of its towers to escape the pursuing Spaniards. He could see the cloverleaf-shaped air holes which they had clambered up and the stone parapet at the top – the decorative crown a good fifteen metres above the roof. He gave Angus a nudge and pointed upwards.

  “Remember?”

  “How could I forget?” Angus replied.

 

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