The Japanese Devil Fish Girl and Other Unnatural Attractions Part 30

Bermondsey Bob lifted a corner of a window blind and peered out. 'Nothin' like a good old race between 'orse-drawn and 'orseless to prove the superiority of the 'orse,' said he.

'The man is a ma.s.s of contradictions,' Ada observed. 'I expect he had a very troubled childhood.'

And, 'Oooh!' now went Ada Fox, thrown up into the air. As speed was being gathered, with further b.u.mpings taking place aplenty.

'Run 'im off the road!' cried Bob to Lenny.

'I'm tryin' to,' cried Lenny, trying to.

The race was well and truly on and Devil take the hindmost now. George glimpsed the steam car through the gap in the lifted blind. A rather sleek affair of polished metal with a gla.s.s dome mounted upon the top. George had never seen anything quite like it before and marvelled at its advanced design and clear ability to keep pace with galloping horses.

Lenny was whipping and yelling and bawling.

Bob dipped into his jacket pocket and brought out a small revolver.

George was going to remark that shooting at the steam car was somewhat unsporting, but he thought better of it and concentrated on clinging on to Ada as the carriage bounced every which way upon the cobbled road.

They had somehow reached Tower Bridge now, which looked for the most part deserted. All of London, it appeared, was crammed about St Paul's, eager to see the Wonder of the Ages.

On the bridge now was the carriage, the steam car still alongside. The steam car swerved and caught the carriage, which struck the side of the bridge. Clouds of sparks flew as the wheels sc.r.a.ped metal. Lenny jerked at the horses' reins, and the carriage slammed the steam car to the side.

Bermondsey Bob had the window down and was leaning out with his pistol in his hand. He let off a shot that missed the steam car, then one that struck and whined as it ricocheted.

George and Ada exchanged but a single glance. Before each grasped a leg of Bob and pitched him out of the window.

It might have been a satisfactory result if Bob had simply bounced into the road. However, he did not. He managed to hang on to the carriage door with a single hand, his feet kicking out at the steam car, still puffing with apparent ease alongside.

The ejection of Bob solicited much profanity from Lenny, who now tried to draw out a pistol of his own. His efforts were, however, hampered by the sheer chaos of what was occurring. The carriage was lurching and bouncing as the steam car plunged into it again and again, forcing it up against the bridge, raising more showers of sparks. And Bob was now somehow caught on the front of the steam car and- There was a moment, it seemed, when all became silent. And actions slowed from blurry madness down to the slowest of motions. A rear carriage wheel caught on something something that ripped it from its axle. The carriage lifted and crashed down again, shattering the horse shaft and freeing the horses, which leapt on rather beautifully in this balletic slowness. that ripped it from its axle. The carriage lifted and crashed down again, shattering the horse shaft and freeing the horses, which leapt on rather beautifully in this balletic slowness.

Bermondsey Bob lost his grip upon the carriage door and indeed upon being as he was swept most elegantly under the wheels of the steam car. Whose panting exaltations of steam appeared as Heavenly wraiths in this transcendent infinite moment.

Then speed renewed as with a crash and a bang as the carriage overturned.

George and Ada spun head over heels, then heels over head over heels. Limehouse Lenny was catapulted from his driver's perch, over the bal.u.s.trade of the bridge and down to the Thames below. He howled terribly as he fell, but with the splash fell silent.

The carriage slid to a grinding halt. The steam car slewed to a stop before it.

The gla.s.s dome atop the steam car raised and slid back. Two men issued forth. Stern-looking, cadaverous men, all in black with pince-nez spectacles, lensed in a similar hue. They stalked to the side-fallen carriage, one front wheel still spinning lopsidedly around, climbed upon it and peered in through the open door.

'Everyone all right?' asked a Gentleman in Black.

The untidy huddle that Ada and George had become moved painfully. George said, 'Somebody help us,' and somebody did.

They were lifted carefully from the carriage and set down upon the road.

'Might I ask,' said George, most shaken up, as a Gentleman in Black did dustings down at him, 'exactly why you did that that?' And George raised his fists and prepared to make quite a fight.

'In order to save your lives,' said another Gentleman in Black. 'Would I be correct in a.s.suming that I am addressing Mr George Fox?'

'Yes,' said George. 'But how-'

'And Mrs Ada Fox?' said the Gentleman.

Ada curtsied and nearly fell over.

'You nearly killed us,' cried George.

'Nearly but not quite,' said the Gentleman in Black. 'Which is how it should be, don't you think?'

George did not know quite what to think. George was most confused. And this confusion did not resolve itself even to the slightest degree when added to the further confusion that the Gentleman in Black's next statement accorded.

'Mr and Mrs Fox,' said he, 'the Prime Minister wishes to see you.'

40.

Mr Gladstone sat once more in the secret room at Westminster.

Flanked once more by anonymous men of dark, funereal aspect.

To the right of them dwelt the great Charles Babbage. Red-faced, in his abundance of tweed, but no longer looking so jolly. Opposite Charles sat Nikola Tesla, with one arm in a sling. Next to Mr Tesla sat a man with a baby's face, the up-and-coming chap named Winston Churchill. And opposite him him, Mr Silas Faircloud, the Astronomer Royal.

A Gentleman in Black knocked lightly upon the door to this secret room, awaited permission to enter, received same and ushered George and Ada Fox inside.

George Fox looked along the table. And there was Mr Gladstone.

'George Fox, I presume,' said he. And he made introductions all round.

George Fox nodded his head and said, 'Sir.'

'And this is your lovely wife?'

Ada Fox curtsied prettily. 'What are we doing here, George?' she whispered to her husband.

'If you will both be so kind as to seat yourselves, I will explain,' said the Prime Minister. Whose hearing was most acute.

There were two seats at the door-end of the table. George drew back a chair for Ada and then seated himself.

'So good of you to join us, Mr Fox,' said Mr Gladstone. 'We find ourselves in a difficult situation and would be grateful for any a.s.sistance that you might offer.'

'a.s.sistance?' said George. 'Why, certainly,' said George. 'But of what possible a.s.sistance could I be to you on any matter?' said George also.

'It is a complicated business,' said Mr Gladstone, 'but I will do my best to explain it in as simple terms as possible. I must first ask you to take an oath that nothing that is spoken of within these four walls will go beyond them, so to speak.'

'Certainly,' said George. 'Do you have a Bible?'

'We have something more than that that.' Mr Gladstone touched a bell b.u.t.ton upon the table before him. Shortly thereafter a panel in the oaken wall behind him slid open and a Gentleman in Black appeared carrying something swaddled in a red velvet cloth. He plodded about the secret room, then placed this something onto the table before George and withdrew the cloth in the manner of a conjurer. 'Wallah.'

George gaped down at what lay before him. It glittered as a rare gem. As a piece of a pharaoh's h.o.a.rd caught in the beam of a treasure hunter's lamp. It was a little larger than an average pocket Bible, but exuded a quality of absolute pricelessness.

'The Book of Sayito,' he said. 'I thought somehow it might be bigger.' he said. 'I thought somehow it might be bigger.'

Ada gazed at the wonderful book. The cover of gold embossed with unearthly gems. 'It is identical to the one I read in Lemuria,' she said. 'It is The Book of The Book of Sayito Sayito.'

'A Book of Sayito Book of Sayito,' said Mr Gladstone. 'We are aware of at least five others. But for all we know there may be thousands, millions even, scattered throughout inhabited worlds across the universe.'

'Goodness me,' was all that George could say. But he gently placed his hand upon the cover of the holy book and swore a vow of secrecy.

Ada did likewise.

Mr Gladstone continued, 'As you must know, Mr Fox, the sun never sets upon the British Empire. Two-thirds of this world are under our benign control, as is the planet Mars.'

George nodded thoughtfully and wondered what was coming.

'As you will also know,' continued Mr Gladstone once more, 'after the failed Martian invasion, the British Empire carried the fight to the Red Planet and defeated the Martians there. Amba.s.sadors from Venus and Jupiter made their appearance before Her Majesty Queen Victoria and an era of interplanetary trade and peaceful commerce commenced. Now, Mr Fox, what you will not know is that the British Government, or at least certain members of it, had been aware of the existence upon this planet of men from Venus and Jupiter long before the Martians invaded. A secret department called the Ministry of Serendipity had been set up to monitor their movements, investigate the supernatural, paranormal, outre and untoward. With a view to, how shall I put this, increasing the viability and protection of the Empire. If magic or suchlike actually existed, or functioned, then the Empire should have it as a resource. Surely you would agree?'

'Certainly,' said George.

'The Ministry employed spirit mediums, astrologers, diviners of future events. Some proved to be charlatans and were summarily dismissed. Others, such as Mr Macmoyster Farl and his father, were genuine and a great deal of valuable information was gleaned from them. These mediums had thought that they were communicating with the dead. They were, however, actually receiving telepathic messages from the ecclesiastics of Venus.

'I will not bore you with all the details. The crux of the matter is that the ecclesiastics have been seeking something for millennia, something they claim was stolen from them.'

'The j.a.panese Devil Fish Girl,' said George. 'The statue of Sayito.'

'Precisely so, Mr Fox. The book before you is one of the grimoires written in the universal language. It is the Bible to countless races, within this solar system and beyond. The Venusian search led them eventually to Earth. They telepathically communicated the plans for a machine. Would you care to continue, Mr Babbage?'

'I would,' said Mr Babbage. 'And h.e.l.lo to you again, Ada dear.'

'Ada dear?' queried George.

'I met Mr Babbage during our flight back from the island, George. We talked about mathematics. I believe he intends to employ me to help him work on his new Difference Engine.'

'I would be honoured,' said Mr Babbage. 'But to continue with the story. A Mr Phineas Barnum put up the money to construct this machine, the Hieronymous Machine it was named. A device, I was led to believe, that would act as a communicator with the dead. In fact, it was a locator. It sent a beam of energy all around the world in order to locate the statue of Sayito. Do not ask me how it functioned. I have to confess it was beyond my abilities to comprehend its workings. However, the energy that it transmitted apparently reached Mars. And as you might expect, the folk of Mars also had The Book of Sayito The Book of Sayito as as their their holy book. And holy book. And they they believed that the statue was stolen from believed that the statue was stolen from their their planet. And so they launched their attack upon Earth to reclaim it.' planet. And so they launched their attack upon Earth to reclaim it.'

'I did know some of that,' said George. 'But certainly not all.'

'This treasure,' said Mr Gladstone, 'now resides within St Paul's Cathedral. Where it will continue to reside, I will have you know-'

'Professor Coffin intends to tour it around the world,' said George.

'Professor Coffin,' said Mr Gladstone, 'is presently being hailed as a hero of the Empire. But both you and I know him for the scoundrel that he really is. Mr Fox, Mr Macmoyster Farl made a prediction that you would find Sayito, did he not?'

'He did, sir,' said George Fox.

'And you told the professor of this prophecy and he financed the expedition to find the statue?'

'He thought She was a living being. He sought to exhibit Her. He is, of course, now doubly happy as She is not living and so does not need feeding or paying.'

'But I understand there have been complications.'

'Are you speaking of the Martians that inhabit Lemuria?' George asked.

'I am,' said Mr Gladstone. 'Professor Coffin was not at all forthcoming regarding the inhabitants of the island. He skirted right around the issue, a most slippery individual.'

'But what do you want of me?' asked George. 'I can tell you all I know about those Martians down there. And I can tell you this if they are able to leave that island they will, and they will seek to destroy us all.'

'Because they claim the statue to be theirs?'

'Indeed.' George nodded. 'And what they read in The Book of Sayito is that they are the forces of Good and we are the forces of Evil, and they will destroy us in a mighty Apocalypse.'

'Such as I feared,' said Mr Gladstone, and he took from his pocket an oversized red gingham handkerchief and mopped at his brow with it. 'I have to confess,' said he, 'that we are in a pretty pickle and no mistake. A party of Venusians visited the statue today-'

'We saw them,' said George.

'And a party of Jupiterians also.'

'We saw them too,' George said.

'Both parties reported back to their respective emba.s.sies in Grosvenor Square. And both of their amba.s.sadors have sent me letters.' Mr Gladstone lifted these letters, then let them drop from his fingers. 'Both these letters demand the return of the statue,' said he.

'Difficult,' said George. 'I suppose you should probably have it returned to the Venusians. The Jupiterians appear as a race less religiously fanatic in their nature.'

Mr Gladstone nodded. 'No,' he said.

'No?' asked George.

'Precisely, no. Do you not think that explorers of the British Empire have sought Sayito? All manner of men have sought Her. Sir Richard Burton, Professor Challenger, Doctor Livingstone, Allan Quatermain. All sought, all failed in their searches. You, however, were successful. How would you account for that?'

'I would say sheer luck,' said George. 'But all luck long ago fled this dismal episode. Except for meeting Ada, of course.'

'There must be some reason,' said the Prime Minister, 'why you should be the one to find Her. I believe that Mr Macmoyster Farl's prediction went-' Mr Gladstone sought notes before him, '-"Upon your shoulders will rest the future of the planets".'

'Yes,' said George. 'I recall that that line only too well.' line only too well.'

'The question is,' said Mr Gladstone, 'how will your shoulders be employed in this matter?'

'I will certainly do anything I can to help,' said George. 'If you would care for my advice, I would say, give the statue to either the Venusians or the Jupiterians. Let them sort out the matter between themselves. Elsewhere and not upon this planet.'

'There may be wisdom in your words and I will bear them in mind,' said Mr Gladstone. 'But for now and for the foreseeable future, the most sacred object in the entire universe will stay exactly exactly where it belongs. In St Paul's, in London, at the heart of the British Empire.' where it belongs. In St Paul's, in London, at the heart of the British Empire.'

George Fox bit at his upper lip. Ada leaned across and squeezed his hand. 'Prime Minister,' she said. And Mr Gladstone nodded. 'I really do feel that you should heed my husband's words. Perhaps it might be decided by a show of hands around the table.'

'Are there any more matters that must be discussed?' Mr Gladstone asked of Mr Babbage.