| Chapter Four - Discovery |
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I stood on the street corner clutching the many sketches and ideas I had compiled during the enforced exile from my former life. I also
tightly grasped the journal of my fathers studies, stroking its leather cover with two fingers and trying to ignore the unpleasant
memories that it threatened to trigger in mind. The skies were overcast and filled with a mixture of smog and a residual dust from the
night's attack, although some hazy rivulets of light pentrated the coverage. Just as I was beginning to wonder if the Captain had
forgotten our appointment, a plain, unmarked black carriage appeared through the morning gloom. It was unremarkable in every way, with
no embellishments but upon closer inspection was well maintained and in good working order. The coachman coaxed his horses to halt
before me and leaned over to inspect me. "Are you 'im then? Percival is it?" He demanded in a gruff but good natured manner. I nodded in
aquiesence. "Best get in then, the Captain dont like to be kept waitin", he added with a note of amusement entering his tone.
The trip through the London streets took longer than usual, with the carriage having to creep around many obstructions created by the nights events. The rocking motion of the cart coupled with my recent tribulations were taking their toll and I found myself slipping into a fitfull sleep. I awoke to a tranquil countryside setting which could not have been in starker contrast to the devastation I left behind in the busy London streets. Even this countryside retreat had not escaped the conflict however as the once majestic manor house before me was now reduced to a charred husk with rubble filling the forlorn stil standing walls. I alighted on the shingle, tree lined approach to this testament of troubled times. The coachman nimbly lept down from his seat atop the carriage and tethered the horses to a ruined pillar. "Follow me lad, the Captain's round the back in his laboratory." The coachman instructed. We talked as we ambled around what was the house and I learned that Perkins, as he introduced himself, was another ex-army man who had been dishonourably discharged from the ranks whilst serving in India with the Hussars. His misdemeanour was to strike an officer who had been trying to force himself on a young woman whom Perkins had befriended. Upon his long journey home, he had encountered the captain. Well acquainted with the reputation of the officer in question, Sadeian had taken pity on him and assisted his journey home and upon their return to England, employed him. His tale filled our walk round the ruins and through the stately gardens which stretched behind it. These now had an untended appearance but had clearly once been a wonder to behold and I could just make out fallow deer grazing at the edge of his gardens. We came to a large, conifer ringed grassy mound and descended a slate grey stairway flanked with ornate gothic bannisters to its base and a heavy oak door entrance. The door was ajar and a number of curious sounds eminated from within, the volume of which increased as Perkins heaved open the door to allow us entry. He then took his leave and returned to his duties - the captain had left orders that we were not to be disturbed. I clearly remember the boyish sense of wonder I felt at viewing the expansive aladdin's cave of previously undreamt of technology, curiosities and outlandish looking contraptions which filled Sadien's workplace. It was a huge structure with a domed roof, upon which was etched a comprehsive map of the known cosmos with distances and formulas scribbled upon connecting arcs between them. My attention was then captured by two remarkable contraptions at the far end of the laboratory. The first was what appeared to be huge brass stove which had an enormous bellows attached to the side which pumped rythmically, keeping the numerous dials on its glistening metal skin in constant motion and sending great pulses of steam into the pipework above. The second was unlike anything I have ever seen before or since. A metal rod, as tall as a man, encased in a square glass container sent an endless supply of crackling white lances, snaking from its core to crash against its translucent shell. It was between these wonderous sights that I found the captain sat his workdesk reviewing paperwork. He looked up, greeted me and bade me sit in a spare armchair opposite him. I remember conveying my ideas with an almost childlike eagerness, supporting these with the notes and sketches that I had brought with me and extracts from the journal of my father's studies. These, coupled with the captain's own input saw us quickly agree upon constructing a small craft which we could then build at a larger scale if successful. The next few hours seemed to pass in a trice, with myself and the captain being swept along on the crest of a wave of discovery, hard work and light hearted endeavour. At the end of which, we had pieced together our first tiny wooden bird. We hurriedly changed and then scaled a nearby hilltop, eager to see if our endeavours would bear fruit. The captain paused to light his pipe as I hammered a peg into the moist, grassy carpet covering our vantage point, thus ensuring that our craft would not fly away from us. I held our wooded kite in trembling hands as the captiain meticulously wound the clockwork mechanism which we hoped would provide the necessary thrust. He finished his winding and with an impish grin fixed on his face, looked at me, seeing the very same expression reflected on my features also. "NOW!!" We shouted and stepped aside to observe. With a delightful metallic roar, our little vessel rose into the air and darted in a circular rotation, framed beautifully by the clouds as the twilight sunshine glinted from its highly polished clockwork motor. I was suddenly filled by a boyish exultation and gave vent to a great cry of joy, fuelled by the hardships of my recent years being eclipsed in this moment of pure happiness. Things were looking up. |
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