Day of Rebellion

by Johnny O'Brien

  “You nearly got us killed…”

  “Saved your butt, you mean…”

  They pressed on past the great archways leading into the college quads, and the spires of chapels. It was a bit of a contrast to the Forbidden City and the Summer Palace in China.

  “Trinity College – it’s up here,” Christie said. “This is quite exciting…”

  “What,” Jack said, “meeting Charles Babbage? Two computer nerds together – I’m sure you’ll get on great…”

  “Funny,” Christie said.

  “Yeah – he’s hilarious,” Angus added. “See what I have to deal with?”

  “Think the plan will work?” Jack said.

  “Getting in? I think so. The CPS isn’t such a big deal right now. It’s this conference that will put them on the map and suddenly make them very interesting to the government. If we’re right, before tonight, they are just regarded as a bunch of eccentric academics… Once we get in, keep your ears and eyes peeled. Remember what we’re looking for – any clue as to how Babbage got hold of the VIGIL device.”

  “And when he got it,” Jack added.

  They arrived at the great arched gateway of Trinity College. “Right this is it – everyone ready?”

  Christie approached the porter’s lodge and a dark-suited porter peered at them suspiciously.

  “We are here for the Cambridge Philosophical Society conference.”

  “Name, sir?” the porter asked, looking at a sheet of paper.

  “Professor Thomas Christie, Edinburgh University, and these are my research students.”

  The porter looked down at a piece of paper with some names on it.

  “I am terribly sorry, sir, but I don’t seem to have you on the list.”

  “What?” Christie said. “Let me have a look, will you?”

  “You see, sir,” the porter said. “And I am afraid Mr Babbage is very particular about the guests for tonight… It’s a very exclusive gathering.”

  “Yes, I can see that our names are not there,” said Christie, glancing up and down the list. “Perhaps you could get a message to Mr Babbage?”

  “Well, he will be very busy preparing for the conference, sir.”

  “I understand. But if you can give him this,” Christie handed the porter an envelope, “I am quite sure that this misunderstanding can be cleared up straightaway…”

  “I will do my best, sir.”

  They waited in the porter’s lodge as a messenger was sent scurrying across the Great Court to locate Babbage and deliver the envelope.

  A few minutes later he returned, red-faced, and whispered something to the porter, who nodded.

  “Well sir, apparently Mr Babbage thanks you for your message and says that he apologises that your names are not on the list. He says he would be delighted to welcome you for drinks with the other guests who are now arriving in the Wren Library.”

  Christie gave a little bow. “Thank you, sir.”

  They stepped from the porter’s lodge into the Great Court of Trinity College with a fountain at the centre and a chapel to the right.

  “What did the note say, Dad?”

  Christie smiled and gave them a wink, “Just a little something I thought would get Babbage’s attention…”

  They passed through the Great Court and the cloisters of Nevile’s Court, towards the Wren Library, a magnificent glass and stone edifice stretching across the far side of the courtyard. The stonework glowed pink in the late afternoon sun.

  “Looks like the CPS has generated a lot of interest for this meeting,” Jack observed.

  A queue of people were filing slowly into the library for the first of the evening lectures. There was a low buzz of conversation as Christie, Jack and Angus joined the queue.

  As they made their way slowly into the Wren Library, Jack noticed a weighty, leather-bound book that lay open on a display lectern just outside the entrance. It was titled Principia Mathematica by Sir Isaac Newton.

  Christie caught Jack’s eye and smiled. “It’s even got the great man’s corrections… You know, this library has many more famous books – two of Shakespeare’s First Folios for a start… one of those will set you back three million quid in twenty-first century money…”

  “I know Dad,” Jack muttered under his breath. “I’m fairly familiar with Shakespeare… if you remember.”

  Inside the library, a row of tall, arched windows ran along each of the side walls and at the far end was a stained glass window. Rows of bookcases lined a broad central aisle. Chairs had been arranged down the aisle, with a dais and lectern at the front. The audience congregating at one end was growing larger by the minute.

  “Astonishing…” Christie whispered. “That’s the prime minister, Melbourne. Extraordinary… and he is talking to, well, that is a senior naval officer – must be the Admiral of the Fleet…” Christie’s eyes were goggling. “I recognise others from portraits of the time… but look, there’s Babbage! He’s coming over… someone must have been pointed us out to him. OK boys – here we go…”

  Suddenly, Charles Babbage, Lucasian Professor of Mathematics at Cambridge University, inventor of the Difference Engine, a man who was a century ahead of his time, was standing in front of them with a curious look in his eye.

  “Professor Christie?” he put out a hand.

  Christie smiled, “Honoured and delighted, Professor…”

  But Babbage didn’t smile back, “I confess that I have never heard of you, Christie, but, the contents of your note I found most interesting: ‘Energy equals Mass times the speed of light squared…’ An unusual hypothesis, that energy and mass are somehow equivalent. Fascinating. Why have you not made contact before?”

  “Well, Professor, a man like yourself, it is difficult to get your attention. I heard about the conference… and we had to come. I am sorry we have somewhat thrust ourselves upon you…”

  “I understand, Christie, it is irregular but I think your ideas are of sufficient merit to warrant a further conversation. You are welcome to stay and we should meet after the conference. He looked at his chain watch. “But we start very soon, I believe we are all nearly present. We in the Cambridge Philosophical Society have high hopes for tonight. It may not be putting it too strongly to say that I believe we are about to change the future…”

  “You could put it like that,” Jack whispered to Angus.

  “Ahh Babbage – there you are!” A short man in a dog collar scurried up towards them, a glass of sherry in his hand. Jack nearly had a heart attack – Backhouse was much younger than he remembered him, but Jack recognised him immediately.

  “Josiah – let me introduce you to these guests, er, Professor Christie from Edinburgh University and, I’m sorry…”

  “Jack and Angus. My research students.”

  “Indeed.”

  Backhouse put out a hand. “Delighted to meet you. Josiah Backhouse, Reverend Josiah Backhouse.”

  Initially Jack couldn’t work out why Backhouse did not recognise them. After all they had been his captives, held by the Taiping in Shanghai for a couple of days. But then Jack realised his mistake. Of course Backhouse wouldn’t recognise him. As far as Backhouse was concerned this was the first time that he had met them, but maybe it did explain why, in Shanghai twenty-four years in the future, he had thought he had met Jack and Angus before. Jack hadn’t understood it at the time, but he did now. It was one of those bizarre circumstances caused by time travel – as Jack and Angus travelled back in time, so Backhouse was travelling forward, and the unreciprocated recognition that Backhouse had of them in Shanghai was now happening in reverse. It was most peculiar. It was also peculiar, and rather disturbing, that Jack knew precisely the time, location and circumstances of Backhouse’s death – defending an armed Taiping steamer from an assault by Imperialists led by a young girl, called Shu-fei.

  Backhouse seemed a lot more jovial than he had been in Shanghai. “We’ve come a long way, eh, Babbage?”

  The professor s
eemed slightly uncomfortable in Backhouse’s presence.

  “If you had not rescued me from that wretched place… six years ago is it now? Well, none of this would be possible,” Backhouse said.

  “I would request you not to mention such things… particularly in front of our guests…” Babbage replied, tersely.

  But Backhouse didn’t seem to hear him and chattered on to Christie, “It was strange you know, I remember it so clearly. That foggy night – in London – Babbage, here, my dear old friend, took it upon himself to rescue me. Those people from Harmwell madhouse had found me in the street the day before and locked me up. I wasn’t mad, of course, I just sometimes had these… episodes. But since then they have never reoccurred.” Backhouse’s eyes glazed over. “That’s when I found him. I found our Lord. He came to me…”

  Babbage was becoming increasingly uncomfortable. “I think we’ve heard enough, Josiah, I don’t think these good people want to hear any more…”

  But there was no stopping Backhouse. “It changed me. And cured me. I have never had another episode since. God has been with me ever since and I have made it my mission to spread His word wherever I can. But do you know what I find most surprising?”

  “Please Josiah…” Babbage pressed.

  “When God touched me…” as he spoke he turned and looked at Babbage with an awed reverence, “he also touched the professor here. I am sure of it. The great man before you was brilliant before, for sure, but from that moment on, it was as if the professor had been given a new gift from God. He created new ideas for new inventions, new machines, designs… such as you would not believe… all from the device we call his ‘Seeing Engine’.”

  Babbage’s face reddened, “I said, Backhouse, that we have heard ENOUGH…”

  Suddenly, Backhouse got the message and went quiet. There was a strained silence.

  “Now, if you will excuse me, gentlemen, I am going to get proceedings underway… we will talk again,” he concluded, giving Backhouse a withering look, “alone.”

  Babbage marched off, clearly angered by the garrulous babbling of his old colleague

  “I apologise, Professor Christie, was it? I do tend to get carried away… I’m afraid my friend Babbage is a bit tense about tonight. The ‘Seeing Engine’ is very valuable. That is why he is concerned, I suppose. You have to forgive him. But when I am with him I am always reminded of that night. The experience was so profound, you see – I am convinced that divine intervention is the only explanation…”

  Christie eyed Backhouse curiously. “Most interesting – and tell me, this was at the asylum you say, Harmwell… in London was it?” Then Christie said, “And when would that have been… exactly?”

  “I remember it precisely. The Lord visited me on the twenty-fourth of January, 1830. I awoke the next day only to find that I had been incarcerated in Harmwell Asylum. Babbage and Herschel after they discovered what had happened came to get me out. The time was exactly five minutes past nine o’clock. It was a freezing night. I recall it vividly – there was an unfortunate accident in the carriage as we left… and really from then on everything was different. God had touched me; and for sure he had touched Babbage…” He held out his hands at the great and the good mingling in the Wren Library, taking their seats for the first lecture of the CPS conference,” and now, here we are. You will be astonished at the revelations that Babbage and the CPS will present to you tonight. Astonished. They will change the world.”

  “I see,” Christie said. “Most interesting…”

  “Have you seen the list of speakers and topics, sir?” Backhouse said, pulling a sheet of paper from his pocket.

  “Actually, no. Well, not the latest one.”

  Backhouse looked surprised, “No? Well, I have it here.” He unfurled the paper. It was an agenda printed in italic script. “Look at what we have in store – for a man of science like yourself, it will be a once in a lifetime experience.”

  Christie, Jack and Angus looked down the list of topics and speakers:

  A CONFERENCE OF THE

  CAMBRIDGE PHILOSOPHICAL SOCIETY

  31st March 1836

  Introduced by Professor Charles Babbage,

  Lucasian Chair of Mathematics

  The Derivation of Logarithmic Tables through the use of the Mechanical Calculating Machine.

  Further Applications of Mechanical Calculations using the Analytical Engine.

  The Principles and Usages of Electrical Energy.

  The Principles and Usages of the Internal Combustion Engine.

  Powered Flight

  The New Sciences – Applications in the Military and Naval Field

  As Christie read down the agenda his eyes grew bigger and bigger. “This is… truly remarkable…”

  “As I said, Christie,” Backhouse replied. “Babbage has been touched by God… Now we must take our seats – the Professor is about to begin. Quick you must take your seats.”

  Backhouse ushered them into a row of seats before scuttling away. Once he was out of earshot Christie turned to Jack and Angus. “We’ve hit the jackpot…”

  Jack nodded, “That religious experience Backhouse was talking about – back in 1830 – that’s it isn’t it?”

  “Yes, I believe it is, Jack. The true Point of Divergence. It must be. As Backhouse said himself, from that night on, ‘everything changed’.”

  “It wasn’t Babbage being touched by God, though…” Angus said. “It was something else…”

  “And whatever happened, Babbage must have been given a VIGIL device on that night when they were at Harmwell Asylum.”

  “So, we’ll have to go back again – to that night and see what actually happens. As you say, Dad, keep following the trail?”

  “Right, Jack.”

  “Guys, don’t look now, but I think we’ve got a problem…” Angus said and nodded surreptitiously towards the door.

  But Jack did look and his heart jumped when he spotted a late guest taking his seat in the library just as Babbage strode up to the lectern.

  “It’s Fenton,” Jack whispered. “He’s back on our trail. Already.”

  Christie opened his hands and angled his his time phone so just Jack and Angus on either side of him could see it. The light was on.

  “Time signal is available. I will set it to 1830, Harmwell Asylum in London and we’ll be good to go…”

  “What, here… now?”

  “No,” Christie whispered, “Too many people are too close. We should go outside…”

  “Sshhh…” An elderly gentlemen in the row in front turned round and hissed at them loudly.

  Babbage had just started making his introductory address, “… Technologies that will change the world…”

  “We get up and leave, one at a time,” Christie whispered.

  “… Technologies that will give Great Britain insurmountable industrial power…” Babbage continued to announce grandly from his position at the lectern. “… Technologies that will generate new wealth for all the peoples of the Empire…”

  Christie was on his feet. “Excuse me, terribly sorry,” he muttered as he squeezed his way down the line of chairs and disappeared from the library.

  “You go next, then I’ll follow,” Jack said.

  In a minute, Angus had sneaked out. Then Jack got to his feet. He broke from the audience and marched quickly to the library door following in the steps of his father and Angus. Jack could still hear Babbage’s self-congratulatory introduction booming out from the far end of the library, and he couldn’t help himself, as he walked to the door, he glanced over his shoulder to take a last look. His timing could not have been worse. At that moment Fenton, who was scanning the room, caught his eye. Jack felt as if he had been caught by the cross hairs of an assassin’s rifle. A shiver ran down his spine… he wanted to look away, but he found himself staring back. Initially, Fenton seemed a little bemused at the sight of Jack, but then his brow furrowed. Jack quickened his step, the door was now only a step away �
� he reached out for the handle but found it difficult to turn with his sweaty palm. His legs wobbled and his stomach churned. Suddenly there was a hand on his shoulder.

  “Going somewhere?”

  Jack swivelled round.

  “That would be a pity, because I think we have a lot to talk about,” Fenton sneered in a whisper. “Like how you pushed me off the top of a Zeppelin.”

  Jack tried to pull away but Fenton was strong, he opened a door and bundled Jack through. Everyone was absorbed in Babbage’s speech, so no one noticed the brief altercation at the back of the library. Soon they were on the landing outside.

  Angus’s fist came out of nowhere. It connected directly with Fenton’s cheekbone, but Fenton was bigger than Angus and it was going to take more than one blow to fell him. His head came up again, his teeth were gritted and blood streamed from his face. Angus stepped out of the shadow behind the door where he had waited for Jack to leave the library. Jack saw the expression of surprise on Angus’s face – surprise that anyone could come up from such a blow. Instantly, both he and Fenton were brawling their way down the library steps, exchanging a series of vicious blows. Jack looked on, horrified, Angus was getting the worse of it and Fenton was using his greater size and weight slowly to gain advantage. They were at the bottom of the stairs now and Jack had to do something. He looked around for a weapon, anything he could use to help Angus. But there was nothing. Then he had a moment of inspiration. There it was. The huge volume on the display lectern next to the library entrance: Sir Isaac Newton’s Principia Mathematica. One of the most famous and valuable scientific journals ever written. With some difficulty, Jack picked it up and looked down the stairwell. Angus was in a bad way. Fenton was on top of him pummelling his fists into Angus’s face. Holding out the book, Jack took aim and then let it go.

  The very same laws so carefully defined and set out by Newton in the large tome itself, caused the Principia Mathematica to accelerate away from Jack’s hands and fall to earth at the gravitational constant of 9.81 metres per second per second. The weighty book connected with the back of Fenton’s head just as he was raising his bloodied fist before piling it yet again into Angus’s face. The book had not yet reached terminal velocity – the distance between Jack and Angus was not yet sufficient – but its momentum was quite sufficient to knock Fenton out cold.