“No!” exclaimed Winston. “Please hear me out! We are not here to torment you. We are on a mission for queen and country. We are tasked to carry very important plans to Victoria Station, then to Buckingham Palace, through surveillance and possible opposition. To do so, we need to attract as little attention as possible. We cannot march through the streets and up to the palace gate as a military squad with a mounted officer.”
“Ah,” said Clementine. “You just want to use me a different way. You need me as camouflage.”
“In a word, yes,” said Churchill. “We need to appear to the casual eye to be three separate groups: a young couple out for a stroll, a group of mechanical friends,”—he pointed to the mechs, who waved— “and another young couple out for a ride. Please! We need your help. The queen needs your help.”
Clementine looked to Pauline, who nodded confirmation. “To Victoria Station and the palace, no more? For queen and country?”
Winston, Pauline, and Alexander all nodded. She pondered a moment, then stepped off the mounting block and strode over to stand in front of Bottom, who preened at being addressed by a fine young lady. “May I ask your name?”
“Nick, Miss,” he squeaked, coughed, filled his bellows, tried again. “Nick Bottom.”
“Nick Bottom, are these fools winding me up?”
“Oh, no, Miss. The Enforcers is likely to track our every move and try to stop us. We must get the plans to the palace, Miss. The Kaiser, he wants them, see.”
Clementine’s eyebrows shot up. “The Kaiser! Very well, then,” she said, glaring coldly at Winston. “To Victoria Station and Buckingham Palace. For queen and country.”
ToC
It was “Din! Din! Din!”
You ’eathen, where the mischief ’ave you been?
—Gunga Din, by Rudyard Kipling
Chapter Ten
The Kaiser’s New Army
The North Sea vomited up a bank of black cloud which swept across the city, turning the afternoon to dusk and many a pleasant afternoon stroll into a sprint for shelter. A steady soaking rain settled in, and Londoners’ brollies blossomed like begonias.
Aboard the royal yacht Hohenzollern II, newly arrived at Canary Wharf, General von Lyncker stood at attention. His Imperial and Royal Majesty, Kaiser Wilhelm II, Emperor of Germany and King of Prussia, was in a glowering humor to match the weather.
“Blast it, von Lyncker!” the Kaiser exclaimed. “The crossing would have been hours faster aboard the yacht than aboard the dirigible with those accursed contrary winds! The yachts beat the airship here by hours! It was a deuced waste of precious time to come by air!”
Von Lyncker, accustomed to his monarch’s mercurial moods, kept his tone low and conciliatory. “Statecraft, Sire. This is more than a personal visit; it is Her Majesty’s Diamond Jubilee. All of the trappings of a full state visit must be in evidence. The dirigible Bodensee is designed to draw maximum attention, and impress foreign ports with the splendor of the Reich. Having you fly here lends great prestige. The arrival alone, with all the press cameras in evidence, was enough to warrant the inconvenience.”
“Not so much as you seem to think, when every noble of any consequence seems to have their private airship these days. At least mine is bigger than Prince Edward’s, if not bigger than Grandmamma’s.”
“Yes, Sire. The Bodensee is forty-six feet longer than your Uncle Edward’s. We must play that to its maximum advantage.”
“Where is Bodensee docked?”
“The Air Terminus at Victoria Station, Sire, high above the streets for maximum public exposure. The crew have deployed all over her hull, swinging from one part to another in their bosun’s chairs. With their daredevil activities, they are putting on quite a show. I’m told there was a sizeable crowd on the observation deck of the Air Terminus every daylight hour.”
“Good. Maybe the British press will concentrate on that sideshow and leave me alone. I have a lot to do that must be done out of the public eye. Has Mamma’s yacht docked yet?”
“Not yet, Sire. She docked at Portsmouth for a hunt at Badminton, and is due here in the morning.”
“Will she be berthed nearby?”
“In the next slip, Sire. The two yachts together are a very imposing sight indeed. And they emphasize to the English public Your Imperial Majesty’s kinship to the English throne.”
“Well, see to it that whenever she is aboard her yacht, I am nowhere in the vicinity. You know how I detest her meddling.”
“As you wish, Your Majesty. The schedules have been set accordingly. The slate of Diamond Jubilee functions over the next several days is a busy one, culminating with the Progress and entertainments in two days’ time. I suggest we deal with Doctor Malieux immediately, today, so that your mind can be at ease.”
“How I despise the man!”
“Yes, Sire. But we need his work. Once he has demonstrated the device for you and the control that it wields over the minds of the experimental subjects, I believe you will be in a better position to prevail in the discussions with the other heads of state.”
“I had better be.”
“One more thing, Majesty: several members of the London press have requested interviews.”
“No! Tell them I am far too busy with affairs of state. I loathe the British press!”
“Nevertheless, Sire, they have their uses.”
“Why should I care about the London tabloids? Yellow journalist muckraking scum!”
“Your Highness will remember the flap over your diplomatic support of the Transvaal against Britain last year. The British government is driven by the democratic rabble. Prime Minister Salisbury has to respond to his public’s opinion of Your Majesty’s foreign policy. Your Majesty’s point of view must be published in the popular rags.”
“Von Lyncker, these English are mad! Mad as March hares! I have been coming to this country to visit relatives all my life, and as long as I live I will never understand them. It simply baffles me how they have managed to build the British Empire while their governments are pushed back and forth by the press, and come and go from election to election.”
“Yes, Majesty. Democracy makes them unstable and dangerous.”
“Germany must equal and surpass Great Britain in every military measure: on the sea, in the air, and in troops, especially of the mechanized kind.”
“Your Highness’ grandmother, Queen Victoria, will surely resist all these efforts.”
“Yes, she will, and she is precisely why I must undertake them. Grandmamma is old, von Lyncker, very old, and we cannot know how long she will live to maintain the peace between my empire and her own. Whatever my Uncle Edward’s opening gambits when he comes to the throne, we must be strong enough to counter and overcome them.
“War is coming, von Lyncker, a war I must be prepared to win. Admiral von Tirpitz is building me the world’s finest navy. Admiral von Hindenburg is building me the world’s finest air fleet. And you, General von Lyncker, you must secure me the finest fighting force among all the nations, soldiers who will fight with superhuman strength, with unthinking, unwavering devotion.”
Von Lyncker cracked his heels together and bowed. “Your Highness, the troops will be ready.”
Wilhelm was mollified, if not satisfied. “And this traitorous English doctor of yours? Will he demonstrate absolute control over the mechanicals?”
“We shall soon know, Your Highness. He will arrive when it is fully dark. He, too, prefers to avoid public notice in his comings and goings, especially when he travels accompanied by his mechs.”
~*~*~*~*~
“Again.”
“Doctor?”
“Neuralize him again.”
Shaka stood in the middle of the laboratory, staring down at the weeping Enforcer clinging to his leg.
“It appears that each subject we neuralize immediately fixates on the first person he sees when he wakes up,” Malieux said. “The barmy sod is in love with you. Two neuralizations have made him a b
lithering idiot. He doesn’t seem capable of any action other than worshipping you. He may not be able to tend to his physical needs, to eat or drink. He may be totally obsessed.”
“Are you not afraid that a third neuralization will kill him?”
Malieux shrugged. “That is as may be. But we must know. If enemy troops can be pacified with one flash, rendered incoherent with a second, and killed with a third, that would be well worth knowing. We would have a very potent and useful weapon, besides controlling the minds of our own soldiers.”
Shaka set Jubal eye to eye with the weeping Enforcer, triggered the flash, and eased the unconscious man to the floor. “He is breathing.”
“Wait with him until he wakes to assure you are the first one he sees.”
“Yes, Doctor.”
“Then we must be on our way to our demonstration for the Kaiser. Direct two Enforcers to ride behind the coach as footmen. Make sure they are cloaked so they don’t cause comment.”
“Any particular two?”
“The two most psychotic, violent, undisciplined Enforcers you have. Preferably two you haven’t been able to allow out on the street. Tell them nothing of the demonstration, but warn them that unless they behave themselves, you will dispose of them. And be prepared to do so at a moment’s notice.”
~*~*~*~*~
“Your Majesty, Doctor Malieux has arrived with three mechanicals. They await you in the salon, along with several of your marines.”
“My marines?”
“Yes, Your Majesty. When the captain of the guard saw Malieux’s mechs, he insisted. The entire ship’s company of marines awaits directly outside the main doors, but the captain thought it wise to have enough on hand, inside the salon, to ensure your protection.”
Wilhelm sighed and put his feet out of bed and into slippers. “Remind me to reward the captain of the guard for his diligence, and penalize the naval architect,” he instructed. “This yacht is brand new, and yet the marble floors are as cold as ice.”
“Sire?”
“Heat, man! Grandmamma’s yacht has steam tubing under the floors in her stateroom to warm them. Why should the German Emperor’s yacht be inferior to the English monarch’s? It must be superior in every way.”
Wilhelm’s valet hurried to him with a silver tray of brushes to tend to the Kaiser’s hair and the signature upswept mustaches. “Leave off,” exclaimed Wilhelm, impatiently swatting him away. “The man is a blasted arms merchant, not an ambassador.”
Wilhelm, followed closely by the valet and von Lyncker, stalked out through the study into the salon, the valet draping a dressing gown, carefully cut to disguise his master’s stunted left arm, around him as he went. “You are Malieux?”
The doctor bowed low. “Your most humble servant, Your Imperial Majesty.”
“You are ready for your demonstration, of course?”
“Your Majesty, there is much I wish to expl—”
“Enough!” spat Wilhelm, seating himself. “I have spent a great deal of time on this matter. Now I need to see if you have kept the promises you have been making for so many months. I warn you, Malieux, that my patience has grown very thin. Very thin indeed.”
Malieux bowed again. “As you wish, Your Majesty. I have brought with me two of the most aggressive of the patients of the madhouse on whom to demonstrate the device.” He turned and beckoned to Shaka.
One of the Enforcers, realizing belatedly that he was to be the subject of an experiment, turned and bolted for the door. Despite his six feet in height and three hundred pounds of flesh and steel, he was immediately swept off his feet, to dangle by the throat from Shaka’s enormous, black tungsten carbide fist. He struggled for breath as his metal feet kicked futilely at the air and his fingers clawed at Shaka’s wrist.
Shaka bent close so that only the Enforcer could hear and murmured, “Stop struggling, mate. This won’t hurt. You have my promise. If you continue to struggle, I will have no choice but to snap your neck. Don’t make me do it.”
The Enforcer slowly stopped struggling, and Shaka lowered him to his feet alongside his companion, who hadn’t yet realized his peril. The first Enforcer slumped toward the floor, but was prevented by Shaka’s grip on the back of his cloak.
“Excellent!” laughed the Kaiser. “You have set up the demonstration quite well, Doctor. No doubt these men have been thoroughly coached and prepared for the roles they will play.”
Malieux began to protest, but von Lyncker cut him off. “Surely, Doctor, you recognize that no demonstration using your own hand-picked experimental subjects is of any meaning to us. We must see your device in action against subjects proven to bear His Majesty ill will.”
He snapped his fingers, and a brace of marines dragged a manacled young man into the salon. Despite his restraints, he drew himself up to his full, dignified height, stared Wilhelm up and down, and spat on the gleaming parquet floor.
“You see?” said von Lyncker. “Here is a suitable test subject.” He circled the manacled figure. “Thirty years ago, His Majesty’s family asserted its rights over the territory of Hanover. This man is a son of the former royal family. He was caught red-handed in a plot to assassinate His Majesty.”
Von Lyncker stopped and thrust his nose right up into the man’s face. “Weren’t you, you filthy Hanoverian pig?” Fast as a striking snake, the man whipped his head forward, smashing the bridge of von Lyncker’s nose with his forehead. Von Lyncker fell back with a cry, his nose spouting blood. The marines bore the man to the deck, and one was raising his rifle butt for a felling blow when Wilhelm stopped him.
“Don’t damage his head. We want a fair demonstration from Doctor Malieux.”
The doctor beckoned Shaka and the Enforcers forward. The two Enforcers, overjoyed at being spared the demonstration, eagerly brought a chair to place in front of the Emperor and clamped the Hanoverian tight. Shaka removed Jubal from his case and carried him around to stand in front of the trio, who all looked on curiously. “Doll,” noted the slower of the two Enforcers.
The blue flash filled the salon. Both Enforcers and the Hanoverian collapsed in a heap.
“With Your Highness’ indulgence, I believe we have greatly improved this demonstration beyond what any of us expected,” said Malieux. “Three for the price of one. Chairs, Shaka.” The giant mech brought two more chairs, and arranged the three sleepers in a row directly in front of the Kaiser, who peered at them with great interest.
“Now, Your Highness, one by one, Shaka will awaken these men with smelling salts. As he does so, please be certain to be looking directly into each man’s eyes as he awakens. We want you to be the first person each of them sees.”
“How will you do this with great numbers of soldiers?” the Kaiser asked.
“With the simple expedient of a life-sized photograph, Your Highness. It works quite well.”
One by one, Shaka awakened the men as instructed, and one by one, as they opened their eyes, each left his chair and fell to his knees at the Emperor’s feet. Wilhelm clapped his hands delightedly. “You, Hanoverian, whom do you serve?”
“I serve Kaiser Wilhelm II, Emperor of Germany and King of Prussia, until the day I die.”
“And you, Enforcer, whom do you obey?”
“You. Only you, Highness.”
“Then stand up, walk out the door, and throw yourself into the harbor.” Immediately, the mech rose to his feet and headed to the door, only to find the doorway filled by Shaka’s enormous bulk.
“Your Majesty,” rumbled the huge mech, “it is a waste of a loyal servant. His refit makes him far too heavy to float or swim.”
“I suppose,” sighed Wilhelm. “Enforcer, come kneel again before us.” The mech promptly did as ordered. “After all these years, only now do I have servants whose loyalty is unquestioned, who are ready to sacrifice their lives in my service. No oath of loyalty, no taint of money, no hidden agendas, no questions. Mine to command!”
He rose from his seat. “Malieux, keep working.
Now that I know that my new soldiers are ready to die, I must be sure that they are ready to kill, that they can be trained to function as an army. Continue to experiment. I will send you military trainers. Bring me soldiers worthy of the German Empire.
“Ah, my little army!” he said to the three kneeling obediently before him. “Soon you will be thousands and tens of thousands.”
He turned again to Malieux. “Doctor, take this new Hanoverian servant of mine and refit him. Make him tall . . . taller than that one,” he said, pointing at Shaka.
~*~*~*~*~
Malieux rubbed his hands gleefully. “Most satisfactory. Most satisfactory indeed.” The wheels of the doctor’s coach rattled over the cobblestones of the streets of Stepney, carrying him back to Bethnal Green.
“Yes, Doctor,” answered Shaka.
“The stakes in this game have risen dramatically. I have bought myself time, but there is still much to be learned, much to be done. I must have those plans!” He drummed his cane nervously on the floor of the coach. “Send Enforcers to the Golden Gear. I do not believe Spiegel sent every copy of the plans to Lakshmi—that’s just not the way of engineers. There are multiple copies of everything. Have them find those plans. Bring them to me. Bring me every set of plans in the shop and in the flat. And bring me Ernst Spiegel. If anyone besides Lakshmi can understand and reproduce this blasted machine, it is he. I need him.”
~*~*~*~*~
The lamps at the Golden Gear pushed back valiantly against the rainy gloom, a lonely island of light in a street shuttered and silent. The bell tinkled above the door. Ernst Spiegel laid down his tools as several cloaked Enforcers quietly entered, filling the showroom with industrial steel, the smell of lubricating oil, and deadly menace. With supreme effort, he willed his voice to remain calm. “How may I help you, gentlemen?”
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