The Sensaurum and the Lexis

by Richard Dee

  He heard the door open and the squeak of a badly oiled wheel. Why could they not oil the thing? It reminded him of his failures, the successes were taken to recover on the bed they had been operated on, the squeaking wheel indicated failure. And if he had heard it, his employer must have. How much more patience would he exhibit?

  “Another one for the porkers, Prof?” asked the man pushing the trolley. His mate laughed. He said that every time and it irritated him. He would love to operate on that man, he thought, it would be nice to be able to stop him saying that, treating the dead with such little respect. He nodded and they loaded the still warm body onto their trolley. It squeaked away and shortly after, the frenzied squeals told him that it was gone forever.

  He pulled off his gloves and mask. After passing instructions to his assistants to clean everything and prepare for the next subject, he left the operating room by the other door. He went to the ward, where the latest of the survivors were resting and checked with the nurses that they were all well. There were minor infections in some of the wounds, these he treated. In all other respects they were healing nicely, their mental functions undamaged. Then he crossed the corridor to his employer’s office.

  “Another failure,” he said, after he had been admitted. “I was unable to attach to the spinal cord this time. Shock did the rest.”

  “No matter.” The other man was in good spirits. “Have you any more subjects to experiment on?”

  “No,” replied the Professor. “That was the last. We had fewer failures with this last batch, less than four of every ten. That is better but still too high for my understanding. When last I spoke, your associate told me that he will shortly be on the way with another charabanc load. I’m having everything cleaned thoroughly; we can try again when he gets here.”

  The man nodded. “That is encouraging news; you are obviously solving the problem. However, there has been a change of plans, we return to the city in the morning. I have a legitimate business to run as well as all this; I have neglected it for too long.”

  That explained his employer’s good humour, his lady and children were in the city, they had been away for several weeks. The Professor had no such female attachment, he found himself unable to cope with their emotions; hated being with many of them for more than his pleasure.

  To his annoyance, so often the ones that he was attracted to failed to enjoy the same things that he did. Fortunately, his employer understood this and knew where to procure those who would not complain. A return to the city would suit him as well, at least in that respect.

  He disliked the dark room at the top of the factory that served as his workroom in the city, it felt like a prison compared to this place, deep as it was in the countryside.

  “I’m sorry about the failures,” he said. “I can’t see what to do differently. It’s so frustrating.”

  “It’s not a problem, I understand.” His employer was definitely in a good mood. “You have already provided me with more than enough to start; my plans can be put in motion with what we already have. Once you have mastered the next step, we can advance until our final objective is in sight. And, looking on the bright side, nothing is wasted. We have fine porkers to sell at market.”

  There it was again, the lack of respect. Feeling powerless to complain, the Professor said nothing, save to excuse himself. With no new subjects to operate on, the Professor left the room and went first to his chief assistant. He told him that he would be in charge whilst he was gone and made sure that he understood the state of all the recovering patients.

  Next, he went to his laboratorium. He spent an hour writing up his notes, then he packed everything he would need in the city. A lot of his equipment was duplicated there, but he had made modifications to his Sensaurum whilst here and needed to apply the changes to the ones in the factory. Apart from the surgery, the Sensaurum was the other, and in a way more demanding, part of the project. It was a device designed to control the implanted objects by clever use of statics energy. He turned it on, watched the fine needle swing on its bearings as it detected the presence of implants in the people around him.

  “Lexis,” he said into the trumpet on top of the Sensaurum. Across the estate and in the ward next door, his surviving subjects stopped what they were doing and listened for his next command.

  Chapter 9

  There seemed to be something going on, the next day, at fast-breaker, there were only Jackson and Alyious present in the classroom. Fairview was also absent, the pair waited for a while but nobody appeared.

  “Let’s get down to the Gymnazien,” suggested Alyious, “see if Patching is about, he might know what’s occurring.”

  But the soldier was nowhere to be found. “There’s something big going on,” Alyious said. “It’s happened before, when one of us is killed, the order goes out to find the killers and mete out our own justice. Jessamine and the rest may have been called early, they will already be searching.”

  “Then why are you still here?” asked Jackson. “Myself I can understand, as I’m not trained yet, but you?”

  “Someone has to be here, in case of a need and to assist you. I told Langdon yesterday, while you were out, that I would stand aside to let Vyner go. It’s his right to avenge his friend. Winifred is upstairs, she is too upset to do much, her and Enoch were much more than friends. We will go to Mrs Grimble, she will know what to do.”

  But she was also absent. Alyious found a note by her desk. He read it in silence.

  “Well, what’s occurring?” asked Jackson as he read.

  “As I thought, there is an effort underway to catch the people who murdered Enoch. Langdon is away on some new business, I’m to take you on a trip. You need to practise your fieldwork, we will play a game. We are going into the city. Go and get ready for adventure.”

  As Jackson prepared, he wondered at his luck, outside, two days running. And an adventure. He had completely forgotten about the idea of running away, this was the second time he had seen or heard of the retribution the group handed out. He was better off in, he had decided.

  Alyious led Jackson onto the tram, this time they were heading in a different direction to his previous journey. He wondered where they would go. “Whilst we are outside, if you don’t mind, I have a call to make,” Alyious explained. “Then I will take you to see some places that you need to know and explain what I have planned. We will make you do what I had to.” Before Jackson could enquire further, he changed the subject. “Where did you go with Jessamine?”

  “We went to the park, then on to meet a man called Clarry,” Jackson answered. “And I had the test, as Clarry liked to call it. Then to the entertainments for the evening.”

  Alyious laughed. “I remember the test, and I also heard that you passed yours with all flags flying. Well done for keeping your head.”

  “It was a close thing. When he said he would not hurt me, but hurt Jessamine, I nearly faltered.”

  Alyious nodded. “A fine man is Clarry, he knows how to put a man under pressure by threatening something dear to him. He can be a real help to you. I will show you some other useful things. Which part of town are you familiar with?”

  “I grew up in Cobblebottom, my parents worked in the Prosthesium.” Unlike Jessamine, Alyious seemed unaware of Jackson’s tale, nor did he press for details.

  “How about the river, or the south side, do you know them?”

  “Not so well, I went across the river for the first time yesterday.”

  They disembarked at a place that Jackson did not know, an area of neat houses, neither poor nor as sumptuous as the big houses he had seen on the south side. “Follow me,” said Alyious as he led him through streets until they came to a memorial yard, with its rows of marble stones.

  “My mother is remembered here,” he said. “I know not where my father lies, or even if he lives, but my mother is here. I come to feel near to her when I can, to tell her what I’m doing and to remind her of my love. Give me a few moments alone, Jackson
, then we shall carry on with our day.” He bent over one of the memorial stones; like the rest, it was clean and polished.

  Jackson wandered off and inspected the stones. Some had one name, some remembered whole families, with ever smaller carved names as the space reduced. He knew that no remains were in this place, just the stones to remember those who had gone before.

  After about twenty minutes Alyious called him over. “Thank you for your patience,” he said, “and if you would, not a word to the others, it might spoil my reputation.”

  “I will keep it to myself.” Jackson had changed his opinion. Alyious, who he had once hated, had shown a totally different personality over the last few months. “What are your plans for the rest of our day?”

  “All will be revealed. We should take the aerialway to the river, down to the marketplace at Wharfside. As we ride, you’ll get a fine view of the city and the area.”

  They walked for a mile or so, to a large building. Jackson could see the aerialway on its other side, the line leading away in each direction, pillars planted in the ground. As they drew closer, he saw that some of the supports were also attached to other buildings, leaving the street below clear.

  When they rounded the final corner, he could see that the side of the building had been removed and altered to make a platform, not unlike a Rail-Ryde station, to facilitate boarding. They entered the building and rose in a continuous elevator to the correct floor. This was another new thing, it moved slowly but there were no doors, you simply jumped on and off. The platform was quiet; Alyious purchased tickets for them both.

  “I’m sorry, I have no money,” Jackson said as Alyious handed him the ticket. “Jessamine paid for everything yesterday from her own funds. I must speak with someone and arrange to repay all that has been spent on me.”

  Alyious shrugged. “’Tis only money, we all have some of our own, from payments received, once you are working properly, you will see.” Those were the same words that Jessamine had used; it must be so.

  They stood behind the safety rail; there was a gate, manned by a uniformed employee of the Aerialway Express Company, according to the letters sewn onto his uniform jacket. Jackson took time to look at the track; it was as Jessamine had told him, a toothed rack sat on the side of the cast rail. Jackson wondered how the carriages passed; perhaps they only went in one direction?

  Then he remembered he had seen a section of doubled rail. He peered along the line, there it was, doubled for the length between two of the tripod pillars that supported it. The rail began to sing and vibrate; suddenly a carriage appeared from behind him and shuddered to a halt. A door opened and, as the attendant opened the gate, a gangway extended. People stepped off.

  “Come on, Jackson.” Alyious and Jackson boarded, along with four or five others. Inside the carriage were rows of wooden benches, a standing space at each end. They sat and there was a hiss and a clunk as the door closed. With a jolt, accompanied by a voice saying ‘hold tight’, they set off. There was a click as they passed the doubled rail; another carriage was now waiting in the loop. “That is the one that travels in the opposite direction,” Alyious explained. “The timing is kept such that carriages pass at every stop. Mechanical devices prevent collisions. We wait alternately.”

  The system was beautiful in its simplicity; Jackson gazed from the windows as more of the city was revealed. In the distance he could see the port, thick with the masts and funnels of many vessels. Leading to it was the river, threading its way through the city. The great bridges, named after kings and famous men, were in sight, striding across the water. They arrived and departed at another station, then the rail turned slightly, they slowed and entered one of the loops. As they sat still, another carriage passed them. The view was as good as the one from the hill yesterday, except that it changed as they progressed.

  They disembarked as they grew closer to the river, and on reaching ground level, found that they were in a wide street with warehouses on one side. They were all built into the arches of the rail lines that led out of the terminus and down to the mighty brick bridge over the river.

  “This is the bonded store,” Alyious explained. “All manner of valuables are kept here, under the eye of the government, until taxes have been paid.”

  “And why are we here?” asked Jackson.

  “I want to test your ability to follow the code we leave on the walls,” Alyious said. “Shut your eyes, stay here, count to fifty and then follow me, if you can. There will be a reward at the end of it, providing you are successful.”

  Jackson shut his eyes, then he had a thought. “Where will I find the first sign?” he asked. There was no answer. Although he had not counted, he opened his eyes and looked around him. The road stretched out under the rails in both directions, then he spotted it, a cross, it looked freshly marked on the bricks on the other side. He racked his brains; that meant left, he was sure.

  He set off; coming to the roadway at the end of the arch he looked for his next clue. There was a fruit seller to his right, with boxes of fresh apples and plums. “Juicy fruits from Ventis, this year’s harvest,” he sang out. One of the boxes had a bright circle drawn on it, the next mark. He should head towards the sun. He was tempted to grab an apple, the vendor’s attention was elsewhere. No, that was wrong; he turned away and ran straight into a Watchman.

  “Oi! What are you about?” said the man, resplendent in his black uniform, the leather and brass gleaming. Jackson tried to turn away but the Watchman held him easily. “Don’t struggle, lad, just tell me your business.”

  “I’ve done nothing, let me go.”

  “Did you take an apple from this vendor?” the stern voice asked.

  “No, sir, I did not.” Jackson held out his empty hands. “I admit to temptation but then I remembered my family, they were sellers of produce and they suffered from thieves.”

  With practised ease the Watchman searched Jackson, patting his pockets and peering into his pack. At least he was not wearing his quip-belt, which was a relief, how would he have explained that? “Fair enough, lad. I see you tell me truly, mind you stay out of trouble, we are ever watching.”

  “I will, sir, thank you, sir,” Jackson backed away. Alyious would be long gone and think him lost and useless. He moved on towards the sun, his eyes scanning the walls and window frames for his next clue.

  And so the chase went on, there were more marks and Jackson struggled to remember the meaning of them. He took a wrong turning at one point and found himself face to face with an onrushing tram, issuing forth from a tunnel in a blank wall. He had to jump smartly to one side and landed in a stall selling scraps of lace and fine cloth from the Western Isles.

  “Looking for something for your lady?” asked the merchant. Jackson blushed as he realised that the man was selling those garments that his mother used to describe as unmentionables, the ones that should always be worn clean, in case one were involved in an accident. He had never understood the logic. “No, sir, I fell,” he muttered, feeling his face turn red.

  “No need for embarrassment, young sir,” the man replied. “Here, take a sample for her. When she sees the quality, she will send you for more. I’m always here.”

  He pressed a scrap of fine cloth into Jackson’s hands and bowed. Not knowing what to do, Jackson returned the bow, thanked him and moved back to the last mark he had seen. He had mistaken the lines added to the cross; he should have taken the second road, not the first.

  He pushed the material into his pocket; he would give it to Jessamine – if he could find the courage.

  He turned the corner and saw Alyious standing in front of an ale house. Its name was The Chase. There was a picture, of men mounted on equines and a pack of canines, all moving across the painted sign.

  Alyious grinned. “Well done,” he said, clapping Jackson on the back, “although tardy.”

  Jackson was about to explain what had happened when Alyious went to the door.

  “Would you take an ale, Jackson?”


  “I’ve never imbibed,” he answered, then he remembered the sips his father had let him have, sat around the fireside, at home, in the good old days. It had tasted bitter and he had only drunk it to please.

  “And a good thing too, it slows your mind and your body. Be warned, it can be a weapon, as evil as anything. If you have to, you should ask for workers ale, it appears the same as ale but has no alcohol. Then your mind will stay alert.” Alyious ordered two mugs of workers ale from the girl who was serving; she bent low to draw them. Jackson could not help but look down. Alyious saw the glance and elbowed him. “Pay attention,” he said. “Distraction, though pleasant, can mean death when we are working.”

  Was that intended to scare him? They were safe, surely? Jackson looked around, nobody was taking any notice of them.

  “Here you are,” said the girl, placing the mugs before them. “Will there be anything else?”

  “Thank you, no.” Alyious threw some coins onto the serving bar and they moved away, finding seats in an alcove, secluded and private. “Your health,” said Alyious and they touched mugs. Jackson took a sip, it was not unpleasant, less bitter than he remembered.

  “Do you like Jessamine?” The question came from nowhere.

  “Yes I do,” Jackson answered, in truth he had been thinking more and more of her as the days had passed. Whether it was in her trousers or a pretty frock, she seemed just as beautiful.

  “Be careful,” Alyious said. “’Tis best not to get involved.” Jackson was confused, was Alyious trying to tell him that Jessamine was his? And what of Winifred and Enoch? That had seemed common knowledge.

  Alyious saw his look. “I do not mean with her in particular,” he explained. “I warn you against involvement with any of the women in our group. There may come a time when a choice must be made, emotion or attachment should not cause you hesitation.”