Fiendish Schemes (24 page)

The source of the humidity was clearly evident, once I managed to peer beyond the hurriedly rushing human forms. Just as the coiling, hissing pipes transformed the London streets outside to environs more suitable to loinclothed Africans than England’s woolengarbed citizens, so had similar constructions made their way into the Houses of Parliament, emitting their scalding vapours to the same extent. The effect was, however, multiplied by the steam clouds remaining pent up in the building, rather than eventually being dispersed into the surrounding open air. Looking up, I saw the lofty heights of the chamber’s ceiling obscured by opaque nimbuses, as mountain peaks are often hid by roiling storms. I would not have been surprised if at any moment, great flashes of lightning had shot out amidst rumbling peals of thunder, lashes of rain falling upon the scurrying figures below.

And in actuality, such an event might have afforded a degree of succour to those ensnared in the various and simultaneous legal proceedings. The dispersal of the steam pipes’ radiated heat being stifled by the relatively close quarters through which they threaded, some lengths of them reddened with the fiery temperatures heightening within them—enough so as to endanger any who came into inadvertent contact with them. Indeed, as I watched, at least one white-wigged barrister’s robes burst into flames as their black hems brushed over a particularly flagrant steam pipe. As though he were an astronomical meteor set upon a horizontal path, he rushed shrieking through the crowd, his portfolio tossed aside, its scattered papers drifting across the heads of those others who were so intent upon their private concerns that they could scarcely be bothered to note what must have been a fairly frequent occurrence within these confines.

Stonebrake seemed equally heedless of these incendiary happenings, as though the general dampness, however sultry, precluded the possibility of any general conflagration engulfing us.

“In short order,” he replied to my enquiry on making our departure from the premises. “I rather expect that that which I have made arrangements for you to witness, and which I am confident you will find edifying, will soon take place. There is a great advantage to Steam having taken over so many aspects of human life; so many things which previously happened in a random, lackadaisical manner, just as people felt motivated or not, happen now with a commendable regularity. Surely one such as yourself, whose own existence has been so much given over to clockwork and its attendant properties, will admit that it is a considerable improvement to have placed Mankind’s comings and goings along the lines of a railway timetable.”

“Not in the least.” I would have had none of his sophistry, no matter what mood or state of exhaustion in which I found myself. “This strikes me rather as human beings serving clocks, rather than the other way around.”

“As I said.” He sailed in typical manner past my objection. “A considerable improvement. Come along. Having praised the punctuality that Steam makes it possible for us to achieve, it would be somewhat embarrassing to be late.”

He laid hold of my arm again and pulled me away from the relative security of the wall against which I had placed my spine. As might a mariner who is tossed overboard into the swirling depths of Norway’s dread
Maelstrom,
I involuntarily held my breath, perhaps wordlessly hoping thereby to survive the buffeting I was about to endure.

Without Stonebrake’s aid, I would have not reached the other side of the chamber, nor would I have attempted the crossing. Such maritime language is apt in this case, as I quickly discovered that great pools of tepid water had formed, some more than a foot in depth, as the floorboards had been warped by their constant presence. Thus the process of going from one point to the opposite was rendered more like fording a marsh than making one’s way through what had been at a previous time one of the grandest structures in all of Britain. The effort was made even more difficult by the press and rush of so many other human bodies around oneself, precluding any choice of the route one might take and forcing our steps toward whatever foothold we might achieve.

At last, my grudgingly followed companion achieved the destination he had fixed upon; with a strenuous effort, he pulled me out of the teeming, soggy crowd and alongside him, our backs placed near a high, vaulting doorway.

“It will be a trifle easier from here on, Dower.” He spoke as though he were one of those sturdy adventurers who guide less experienced visitors through African forests. “Much less crowded, if nothing else. We are passing from the realm of the courts, into which anyone can venture, from the highest to the lowest.” With a nod of his head, Stonebrake indicated the door close to us, in which a scowling guardsman stood, one bulky hand clutching the staff of an axe-bladed halberd, which seemed more ominously useful than merely ceremonial. “Beyond lies rather more privileged territory.”

The guardsman’s aspect was so threatening, that despite the press of the litigious crowd an empty space a yard or so in radius extended before him. I watched with some trepidation as Stonebrake stepped into this sanctum and engaged the guardsman in a discussion that initially resulted in the other’s expression turning even grimmer and more threatening, his fists tightening upon his weapon as though he were about to raise it and strike my companion’s head from his shoulders. I regarded this possibility with some apprehension. Admittedly, Stonebrake’s company was not entirely congenial to me, and I would have reckoned his death as small loss in that regard—but I had not yet profited from my association with him in the manner that I wished. To that degree, I hoped he might survive this hushed conference.

A few more words passed between them, before the guardsman’s heavy face indicated some success on the part of Stonebrake, at least to the point of not murdering him on the spot. A nod as a small packet passed to his hand from Stonebrake’s outstretched fingers, then a signal to me as the guardsman pushed open the door behind him.

“Everything is in order,” said Stonebrake. “You needn’t look so nerve-afflicted. All we need to do is nip along smartly. I imagine that certain . . .
events,
shall we say . . . have already commenced.”

“This is reprehensible,” I said as I kept pace with him, through the door and into the next chamber beyond. “I don’t know why, but even now I expected somewhat better of you.”

“Really?” He sighed and shook his head. “Now what is it that you’re agitated about?”

“You simply bribed that man for us to gain admittance.”

“Surely you jest, Dower. Does as small a sin as that merit your disdain?”

“Not in the slightest.” The din of the court’s chaos faded behind us as the guardsman pulled the door shut. “I am a man of the world—”

“Oh, yes; very worldly, indeed. A person of vast sophistication.”

“You’re in no position to mock. I was not referring to your purchase of our entry here—wherever it is that you have brought me to now, and for what purpose. I have done as much, on more than one occasion, when I had previously made my residence in London. Such monetary considerations, a few coins deposited in an expectant upturned palm, are but the common price of passing through one doorway or another.”

“Then what is it that you are complaining about?”

“A simple enough indictment,” I replied. “You had previously boasted that there was some element of exclusivity to our eventual destination. If this be it, I fear that I see no hindrance to anyone from the street outside making their way here, with no more expense or effort than that which you have displayed just now. It seems no more exclusive than any grogshop with a bully at the door, demanding a ha’penny before one can stumble down in some wretched den smelling of spilled beer slops.”

“You mistake the circumstances,” said Stonebrake, “by which we gained admittance to these premises. The money I gave to that single-headed
Cerebrus
would not have been sufficient by itself to have caused him to step aside for us. You did not hear what words I spoke to him in addition, what name I dropped into his ear, in order to gain his favour.”

“Lord Fusible’s name, I would expect.”

“Rubbish!” He gave an emphatic shake of his head. “You overvalue our connection with the merely wealthy. Fusible’s income from Phototrope Limited and his other entrepreneurial ventures does indeed amount to an enviably tidy sum, but on a plutocratic scale he and his fellow investors are at a very low level indeed, compared to others. Believe me on this score, Dower, that there are figures abroad in this land whose financial holdings and attendant power dwarf anything that Fusible has at his command.”

“Such as that formerly human dignitary, and now only partly so, whose lecherous activities I was forced to witness at Fex?”

“He would be one of them, yes. As both Miss Stromneth and I indicated to you there, those types of transformations are not cheaply acquired.”

“That is understood by me.” I continued walking at a brisk pace alongside Stonebrake. The space through which we passed was but dimly lit, barely enough so that I could make out the ornate details of its lofty ceiling. “And of course, the gentleman can squander his money however he pleases; it makes no difference to me how he does so.”

“Very broad-minded of you, I’m sure. I doubt if he and the others like him are greatly concerned about your opinion, but if you enjoy dispensing it, then all the better for you.” Stonebrake strode on. “But in point of fact, the name I uttered to gain access here was that of
MacDuff
.”

“Be that as it may—you persist in evading the point that I am attempting to make.” I was not about to let him off the hook, as the popular usage has it. “It is
your
constant over-valuation that makes this parade of squalid curiosities so irksome to me. According to you, I am being initiated at every turn into mysteries of such august nature that only comparison to the primal forces of nature is merited. And of course, it is only yourself who possesses the ability to bring these appalling scenes before me—or so you contend. Whereas in truth, as has just been evidenced, anyone with a few spare shillings in his pocket might have as easily gained entry here.”

“That does it.” My observation appeared to have irked him— which had to some degree been my vindictive intent, though not to the wrathful degree the man now exhibited. “You have no idea how burdensome I find all your continual whinging and complaining. Especially given the lengths to which I have gone, the things I have done for your benefit—”

“Please; spare me—”

“I warned you.” Those last few words, in addition to the ones gone before, pushed Stonebrake over some emotional precipice. He halted in his stride, turned toward me, and violently grasped the lapels of my jacket, lifting me up from my own heels. “Yet you go on, heedless.” He spoke through clenched teeth, nostrils flared and eyes glaring wide, as though suddenly possessed of a madman’s demonic spirit. “Your incomprehension of the predicament into which you have been brought, the forces that encircle about your head—it is more than a reasonable person can endure!”

The extent of his reasonableness I found questionable, as a sudden thrust of his arm sent me sprawling backward. A great clattering of metal ensued as my spine and shoulders struck an empty suit of armour that had been decoratively positioned along the darkened chamber’s wall.

This was, of course, not the first time I had suffered violence at the hands of some ill-chosen associate. Such events happened with so constant a frequency that I was more often than not surprised when they did not occur.

I straightened my coat, tugging upon its lapels, with as much dignity as I could summon. The resolve further hardened within me to be quit of this fractious mountebank, at the earliest opportunity in which I could profitably do so. At this point, only my self-admitted greed kept my fate linked with his.

“Let us not quarrel,” I said. “Or at least no more than absolutely necessary. And certainly not here—however much the world has changed, I am certain that these chambers—housing as they do the august deliberations of Empire—yet retain some semblance of a decent propriety.”

As quickly as it had been aroused, Stonebrake’s wrathful temper dissipated. Eyes slyly half-lidded, he regarded me with a smile that was even less reassuring.

“Yes . . .” His nod was slow and measured. “Propriety, indeed. At times, Dower, you speak more truly than you might imagine. Proper is as proper does, eh?”

“Your meaning eludes me.”

“It still might,” said Stonebrake, “even after you become further acquainted with what is now considered normal and acceptable, as the lexicographers define the word.”

He turned and led onward. With a heart laden with misgivings, I followed after.