The Japanese Devil Fish Girl and Other Unnatural Attractions Part 7

'Fiddle de, fiddle dum. We must formulate a plan of campaign.'

'I would not reject breakfast out of hand,' said George.

'A plan of campaign,' said Professor Coffin. 'If we are to discover this wonder, it would be well for us to have some inkling of where to search. Do you not agree?'

'j.a.pan,' said George. Without hesitation.

'It would seem the logical place to start.' Professor Coffin took to pacing up and down, measuring his strides with his cane.

'We shall cross the Channel,' said George, 'work our way through Europe, then traverse Russia, then China, then down the Korean Peninsula to j.a.pan.'

'Your knowledge of geography is profound,' said the professor.

'It was one of my favourite subjects at school.'

'And arithmetic?' Professor Coffin asked.

'I have some skills in that discipline, yes.'

'Then perhaps you would care to calculate how many days it would take a traction engine with a top speed of five miles per hour to span the continent of Europe, cross Russia, China and Korea and fetch up in Tokyo?'

George attempted certain mental calculations. He folded his brow with the effort.

'Let me spare you a banjoing of the brain, George,' said the professor. 'A very, very, very long time would be the answer to that. And whether the engine would even hold up past Calais, I would not care to wager upon.'

'Then we are lost,' said George. 'It cannot be done.'

'There are other modes of transport,' the professor said. 'We live in the Modern Age, remember. There are steam trains now that can travel at sixty miles an hour. And other vessels faster still than that.'

'Ah,' said George. 'You speak of course of s.p.a.ces.h.i.+ps. They may take the wealthy upon the Grand Tour, but there are no s.p.a.ceports in j.a.pan.'

'True,' said Professor Coffin. 'There are no s.p.a.ceports anywhere upon this Earth but London. But there are other craft that fly in the sky and one that is bound for j.a.pan.'

George lifted his bowler hat and gave a scratch to his head.

'You marvelled at it only two days back, young George.' Professor Coffin fished into his waistcoat pocket and pulled out a printed flysheet. 'I saw this a-blowing along the road. I do not know why I picked it up, but I did. This, young George, is how we will reach j.a.pan.'

George took the crumpled paper, unfolded same and put his gaze upon it.AROUND THE WORLD IN SEVENTY-NINE DAYS.

he read.

GREAT FLIGHT OF WONDER.

SEVENTEEN CAPITAL CITIES TO BE VISITED.

UPON THIS STUPENDOUS.

AERIAL PERAMBULATION OF THE PLANET.

PARIS ROME MOSCOW TOKYO ETC.THE EMPRESS OF MARS.

THE WORLD'S MOST MODERN AIRs.h.i.+P TAKES FLIGHTS FROM.

THE ROYAL LONDON s.p.a.cEPORT AT SYDENHAM.

27TH JULY 1895.Tickets from 200 gnsGeorge looked up at Professor Coffin. 'The Empress of Mars Empress of Mars?' he said.

'And she takes flight three days from now.'

'But two hundred guineas a ticket,' George said. 'How could we come by such wealth?'

'Ah,' said the professor. 'It might be done. In such a n.o.ble and adventurous cause, we might sell the wagon and its contents.'

'The Martian?' said George, with relish in his voice.

'And the traction engine. Mandible Haxan would willingly purchase it back.'

'But four hundred guineas?'

'It will require enterprise on both our parts. This is a huge commitment for me, young George. I will be parting with everything. We will have to live entirely on our wits alone. Does that thrill you, or fill you full of fear?'

'A little of both, as it happens,' said George.

'So, shall we do it, my boy?'

'The Empress of Mars Empress of Mars,' said George, wistfully. 'To fly on the Empress of Mars Empress of Mars.'

'To seek the j.a.panese Devil Fish Girl,' said Professor Coffin.

11.

From its very genesis, Earth's first s.p.a.ceport gave cause for concern and controversy. The British Empire's back-engineering of crashed Martian s.p.a.ces.h.i.+ps and subsequent annihilation of the Martian race brought forth worldwide rejoicings. And the arrival of emissaries from Venus and Jupiter, to welcome Earth into the fellows.h.i.+p of planets (a fellows.h.i.+p from which Mars had been notably excluded due to its people's warlike nature and expansionist policies), with the emissaries presenting themselves before the court of Queen Victoria, gave rise to further exultations of joy.

But there the fun and jollification and the elation at opening trade and communing between planets ceased. For anyone other than the wealthy of the British Empire. The British Empire owned the Martian s.p.a.ces.h.i.+ps. The British Empire had exclusive use of these s.p.a.ces.h.i.+ps to commune between the planets. The British Empire signed treaties and trade agreements with the Venusians and Jovians.

The British Empire would build the Earth's first and and only only s.p.a.ceport. In London. s.p.a.ceport. In London.

The Americans were not best pleased. They wanted a s.p.a.ceport built in Was.h.i.+ngton. P. T. Barnum, considered by most, if not all, to be the world's greatest showman, had even promised to finance the building of the Was.h.i.+ngton s.p.a.ceport (as long as he might be allowed to run the food concessions there and establish a permanent circus in the arrivals building).

Requests had been put in from France, the Prussian Empire and Czarist Russia. The British Empire held firm. The one and only s.p.a.ceport would be in London.

Then came the matter of design, for the buildings, hangars, landing platforms and so forth. Naturally, only British architects and engineers would be given consideration. And and here once more conspiracy theories came into their own it was said that only high-ranking Freemasons need apply. A fist fight broke out in the House of Commons between Isambard Kingdom Brunel, designer of the Great Western Railway and just about anything else that could be constructed from iron and steel, and Alfred Waterhouse, architect of the Natural History Museum and pretty much anything else that might be raised from terracotta brick.

Brunel won the fight, but Waterhouse took the contract with a design based upon Charles Barry's neo-Gothic masterpiece, the Houses of Parliament. The architectural designs were pa.s.sed personally by Her Majesty Queen Victoria, who considered them eminently suitable. For, to quote her words: 'As the Houses of Parliament pa.s.s bills to convey fairness, justice, truth and virtue throughout this world, so such a design will convey these concepts to travellers from other worlds.'

Whether these travellers from other worlds would embrace British democracy or indeed seek to influence Earthly politics and political thinkings was another cause for concern. Particularly when it came to matters theological.

The invaders from Mars, proving, as they did, that intelligent life existed upon other worlds, caused considerable stir amongst this world's religious bodies. Earth had, up until then, cornered the market in G.o.d, so to speak. That other planets were inhabited and that the denizens of these worlds held to other religious faiths that did not precisely mirror our own was sorely vexing to the Earthly church hierarchies.

The Pope decreed that as no mention of life outside the Earth had been made in the Bible (which was, after all, the the Word of G.o.d), off-worlders must be considered pagan and ripe for conversion to Christianity. The Archbishop of Westminster held to similar views, but was reticent about pa.s.sing on to Her Majesty a message from the Pope that Rome would send missionaries to Venus and Mars to deal with the peoples there in the manner in which, several centuries before, they had dealt so successfully and kindly with the folk of South America. Word of G.o.d), off-worlders must be considered pagan and ripe for conversion to Christianity. The Archbishop of Westminster held to similar views, but was reticent about pa.s.sing on to Her Majesty a message from the Pope that Rome would send missionaries to Venus and Mars to deal with the peoples there in the manner in which, several centuries before, they had dealt so successfully and kindly with the folk of South America.

It was all going to get rather complicated.

The matter of interplanetary trade gave rise to more gasps of disbelief from those outside of the British Empire. When they learned that England alone, having signed the exclusive treaties and trade agreements, would be taking care of all interplanetary business. 'To ensure fairness, justice, truth and virtue,' Queen Victoria explained.

Mr Gladstone put it in a manner that was understandable to all. 'As representatives of Planet Earth, the British Government has entered into a meaningful alliance with the Governments of Venus and Jupiter, an alliance both mercantile and military, which offers a combination of strength and security.' Adding, 'If Johnny Foreigner cares not for this, then so much the worse for Johnny Foreigner.'

So that was all sorted! To the Empire's satisfaction at least.

Which cleared the stage for more important matters.

Such as the actual name that the s.p.a.ceport was to be given.

Mr Charles Babbage, who had been appointed head of the British Empire's s.p.a.ce Programme, put forward a number of suggestions that he considered suitable. These included: The Charles Babbage Grand Astronautical Interplanetarium The Charles Babbage Celestio-Pantechnicon Kinetic Harbour The Charles Babbage Tri-World Transportarium And perhaps the most obvious: The Charles Babbage Astro-drome All, however, were rejected, possibly because all were prefixed by the words 'The Charles Babbage . . .'

The name finally fixed upon was: The Royal London s.p.a.ceport And so it would remain.

And so, upon the twenty-seventh of July in the year eighteen hundred and ninety-five, a wondrous silver airs.h.i.+p dandled elegantly above runways one to six. The day was of the sunniest and although another pea-souper held London firmly by the throat, here, in this delightful rural setting 'neath the great hill surmounted by the Crystal Palace, the sky was blue, the birdies sang and all was right with the Empire.

Around and about the s.p.a.ceport, strictly segregated according to their planetary origins, stood craft from other worlds.

Bulky merchant packets from Jupiter, all burnished copper (or the Jovian equivalent thereof), with swollen sides and riveted flanks and small, glazed piloting 'pimples'. These sprouted at irregular intervals above, below and to all sides of the bulbous craft, like the symptoms of a mechanical disease.

The pleasure-craft of Jupiter were quite another matter. Sleek and steely arrowheads with outboard power units.

But what drew the Earthman's eye upon this or any other morning were the s.p.a.ces.h.i.+ps from Venus. These interplanetary vessels were of surpa.s.sing beauty. The folk of Venus did not, of course, refer to their own planet as Venus. That was the name the folk of this world had given to it. The folk of Venus referred to their world as Magonia. And to their s.p.a.cecraft as 'cloud-s.h.i.+ps'. The cloud-s.h.i.+ps of Magonia. And they were of surpa.s.sing beauty.

They were aptly named 's.h.i.+ps' because they resembled exotic galleons. Constructed not from metal but from some semi-translucent organic material, which offered up a rainbow sheen whilst seeming also to constantly s.h.i.+ft through a spectrum of colours, these s.h.i.+ps appeared to display no aerodynamic features whatsoever. They were the product of whimsy, fairy-tale castles, towers topped by conical roofs rising from galleon decks, with billowing, all-but-transparent sails set one upon another. To catch the solar winds, some said, but others doubted this.

It was claimed that these magical s.h.i.+ps travelled through magical means, powered by faith alone and referred to by the Magonians as Holier-than-Air craft. Magonians thought thought their way across the vastnesses of s.p.a.ce, it was said. And as they offered little in the manner of trade goods, discouraged any form of Earth tourism upon their planet and seemed to seek only to proselytise, they were viewed with a mixture of wonder and suspicion. their way across the vastnesses of s.p.a.ce, it was said. And as they offered little in the manner of trade goods, discouraged any form of Earth tourism upon their planet and seemed to seek only to proselytise, they were viewed with a mixture of wonder and suspicion.

It was approaching midday and the last of the luggage and straggling rich folk were boarding the Empress of Mars Empress of Mars. The cargo gangways fairly groaned beneath the weight of oak-bound steamer trunks and sharkskin portmanteaus. Ladies' dressing cases designed by Peter Carl Faberge and Louis Vuitton. Delicately packed with exquisite perfumes, powders, lipsticks, smelling bottles by Crawfords of Piccadilly, lace handkerchiefs, countless kid gloves, elaborately hand-st.i.tched 'unmentionables', bra.s.s corsetry and the entire pantheon of female under and over attire, shoes and hats and parasols and goggles for every occasion.

Gentlemen's 'diddy boxes' containing ivory-handled shaving paraphernalia, enamelled moustache-wax cases, inlaid snuff caskets, travelling Tantalus sets, firearms to enforce one's point in foreign parts, smoking accoutrements and all the tweeds and linen suits and formal wear and hattery that a gentlemen of means required when travelling abroad.

Add to this crates of the finest champagnes, medical essentials, travellers' libraries, picnicking hampers, ukuleles and mechanical musicolas, Sir Digby Pendleton's horse, Belerathon, without which he refused to travel anywhere, and Lord Brentford's monkey butler Darwin.

The mighty sky-s.h.i.+p sparkled in the sunlight, casting a great cigar-shaped shadow over the s.p.a.ceport's cobbles.

The last of the luggage was finally aboard and the cargo gangways were mechanically winched into the upright position. The promenade decks were made gay with jostling gentry, waving their farewells to less-fortunate relatives, who could only stand and wave and aspire to emotions that did not include jealousy. The gentry aboard disported themselves in their finest 'outgoing' attire. Gentlemen in 'morning formals' in soft pastel shades with matching top hats and gloves. Ladies in a riot of silks and tumbling lace with fans of pale satin embellished with bons mots and tasteful erotic drawings, wrought by the pen of Aubrey Vincent Beardsley.

Oscar Wilde was aboard, of course. And so too were Bram Stoker, Dame Nellie Melba, who had been engaged to provide entertainment in the Grand Salon, Mr Babbage, Nikola Tesla, Little Tich, who was travelling to New York, the first port of call, to take up a six-month residency at Carnegie Hall, and a host of other London glitterati. Charles Darwin4 (unaware that his simian namesake gibbered in the cargo hold) shared a joke with the mystic and adventurer Hugo Rune. Princess Elsie, one of Queen Victoria's lesser known daughters, spoke in whispered tones to an enigmatic figure swaddled in the blackest of blacks with a velvet face mask and hat of outlandish size. This gentleman was rumoured to be none other than the society favourite Joseph Carey Merrick, famously known as the Elephant Man. (unaware that his simian namesake gibbered in the cargo hold) shared a joke with the mystic and adventurer Hugo Rune. Princess Elsie, one of Queen Victoria's lesser known daughters, spoke in whispered tones to an enigmatic figure swaddled in the blackest of blacks with a velvet face mask and hat of outlandish size. This gentleman was rumoured to be none other than the society favourite Joseph Carey Merrick, famously known as the Elephant Man.

And so the summer sun shone down. The gentlemen smoked their expensive cigars in blatant disregard of any health and safety implications and toasted each other with gla.s.ses of deep-cut crystal. The ladies fluttered their fans and gently turned their parasols. The waiters and sky-men, serving folk, menials, menservants and maids, in uniforms starched and immaculately laundered, came and went about their business. Lines were dropped and bosun's whistle blown. The Empress of Mars Empress of Mars prepared once more to rise into the sky. prepared once more to rise into the sky.

But then calls were to be heard. Calls to hold hard and please to hold on for one moment. A honking of a hansom's horn as one of these horse-drawn conveyances was being driven at reckless speed across the cobbled s.p.a.ce towards the airs.h.i.+p, scattering members of the grounded waving crowd before it.

The cab drew up as the pa.s.senger gangway was rising. Two men, dressed in the most fas.h.i.+onable attire, hastened from the vehicle burdened by their luggage and pell-mell leapt to the rising ramp and boarded the Empress of Mars Empress of Mars.

This late arrival elicited much mirth and applause from the a.s.sembled mult.i.tude, as 'fas.h.i.+onable lateness' had only recently begun to find favour.

'Your names please, gentlemen,' said the airs.h.i.+p's major-domo, bowing to the stylish latecomers and snapping his fingers at bellboys to take the gentlemen's luggage.

The elder of the two twirled an ebony dandy cane topped with a silver skull. 'Professor Coffin,' he said. 'And my youthful ward and student, Lord George Fox.'

12.

'Lord George Fox?' asked plain George Fox, turning a s.h.i.+ning bra.s.s 'Aristocratic Cabin' key upon his kid-gloved palm. 'And how did I come by this t.i.tle?' George Fox?' asked plain George Fox, turning a s.h.i.+ning bra.s.s 'Aristocratic Cabin' key upon his kid-gloved palm. 'And how did I come by this t.i.tle?'

Professor Coffin shushed the lad to silence with a fluttering of fingers. 'A little conceit of my own invention,' he whispered, 'which you will come to appreciate when communicating with these swells.'

George Fox grinned and stroked at his striking chin. 'It is a pity that we do not have friends and family here to wave us off,' said he. 'If my mother could see me now . . .' But George's voice trailed away, as it saddened him to think of his parents. Perhaps he would send them postcards from exotic ports of call. Wish them well, bid them love, ask forgiveness for running away.

George Fox sighed and waved at strangers, and then he cried, 'Oh look.'

Professor Coffin followed the direction of George's now-pointings to view wheeled conveyances being driven at dangerous speed, to the considerable alarm of the ground-level wavers, and bound for the great airs.h.i.+p.

'Other late arrivals,' called George to the major-domo. 'Do not leave without them.'

'All are ticked off on the manifest, Your Lords.h.i.+p,' this fellow replied. 'But see, they are tradespeople, I believe.'

George looked on and said, 'Oh yes, they are.'

For oh yes, they were tradespeople indeed.

George spied a high-sided wagon upon which the words JONATHAN CRAWFORD.

Suiting to the Gentrywere emblazoned.

'We had our suits made there,' George observed.

Also a steam cart being steered with reckless abandon:ELIAS MAINWARING.

Quality Canes and Umbrellas 'We got our new dandy canes from there,' George observed.

A yellow brougham, drawn by two pairs of matched black geldings: LOUIS VUITTON.