The Educated Ape & other Wonders of the Worlds (53 page)

Mr
Bell studied a plan of the Grand Exposition and hoped against hope that he
would be able to resolve matters without the employment of dynamite.

Miss Violet Wond
had not attended the concert, although Darwin had sent out an invitation to ‘Mr
Rutherford and guest’. The veiled lady was engaged in a vigorous exercise
regime to re-tone muscles made lax by her hospital stay. To the vast dismay of
the broken-nosed and brutish, she lifted weights in a Whitechapel Boxing Club
and took on all-comers for sport.

Lavinia
Dharkstorrm had suffered considerable damage. She had lost an ear, shot from
her head by Lady Raygun whilst she was taking the fearsome shape of a lion. And
she had lost too a great deal of hair, burned away in the conflagration at the
Palace of Magic. Repeated blows to the chin had fractured her jawbone and her
sister had stamped very hard on her foot, breaking three of her toes.

Lavinia
Dharkstorrm fumed away in a very secret place and vowed to take terrible
revenge.

Leah the
Venusian had, to Lord Brentford’s deep sorrow, declined his invitation to
attend the Ninth’s rehearsal. She had things to do, she told the noble lord.

In a
gown that was as wisps of frozen smoke, she stood before a council of senior
ecclesiastics within the Venusian Embassy.

‘Leah
d’relh, of Northern Rimmer, Magonia, you come before us with a strange request.’
A gaunt and graceful being with pinnacles of snow-white hair addressed the
beautiful creature. ‘It is your request that you be permitted to marry an
Earther.’

Rumblings
and mumblings met with this disclosure.

A
lofty Venusian muttered, ‘Blasphemy.’

‘I do
this for love,’ said Leah, ‘and love should know no worldly bafflers.’

‘You
are young,’ said the gaunt and graceful one, ‘and have no true understanding of
love. Nor do you fully comprehend the gravity of your proposal.’

‘Then
I would be grateful to receive such knowledge,’ said Leah.

‘Please
understand,’ said the senior ecclesiastic, ‘that we Venusians are of the First
Race. We are racially pure. Our world is as Eden because we have maintained our
purity. The people of Earth are warlike and crass. They are little more than
barbarians. We tolerate them for now, but should they ever threaten our people,
we would have no compunction in destroying them all.’

‘In
fact,’ said another, ‘our tolerance may very soon be at an end. There are signs
and portents in the Heavens. The Thames has run with blood and frogs have
fallen from the sky. Our seers tell us that great evil is poised to strike upon
this beastly world. Should this occur, we will have no choice but to erase this
planet from the solar system.’

‘That
you must not do!’ cried Leah. ‘That is surely evil.’

‘To
protect what is pure and unsullied can never be classed as evil. Should we have
to destroy every being in this family of planets that is impure, so must it
be.’

‘The
Jovians, too?’ asked Leah.

‘Gourmands
and crapulous fools.’

‘They
are a merry people,’ said Leah, ‘to be sure.

Another
ecclesiastic spoke. ‘Soon,’ this being said, ‘at the stroke of midnight upon
the final day of this planet’s current century, there will be a great planetary
alignment such as will never again be known for many thousands of years. It is
predicted that the great evil, in the form of Pestilence and Terrible Darkness,
the Death of the First-Born and the rise of the Christian Antichrist, will
occur at this moment. If this happens as predicted, we will purge the other
planets from above by the power of Venusian magic, and our race will remain
alone in this solar system. So shall it be.’

Tears
rose into the golden eyes of Leah the Venusian. Her plans for a January wedding
would probably have to be shelved.

The Lady Beast
and female Antichrist, Princess Pamela, also known as Madam Glory, lay upon
velvet cushions, filling her face with’ chocolate.

She
inhabited a comfortable room with a view in a fashionable hotel. This hotel
stood upon the seashore. The shore of the Sea of Tranquillity. This hotel stood
on the Moon. The view from the window was of Earth.

‘I
shall redecorate
that,’
said Princess Pamela, pointing with a languid
hand towards the planet. ‘When I am in total control, all things will be
different. And I’ll get rid of all that boyish blue and colour the whole thing
pink.’

Planet Earth
rolled on through space.

Difficult
times lay ahead.

51

hristmas
came and Christmas went, but not without its magic. Darwin woke early on
Christmas morning, eager to see what Santa Claus had left inside his stocking.

Three
bananas, a bottle of Château Doveston and two of Lord Brentford’s finest
cigars, the monkey butler was pleased to see.

Pleased
too was he when, upon reaching his bedroom window, he found himself looking at
Fairyland beyond. Snow had fallen in the night, clothing the banana plantations
with white and bringing that special enchantment only snow can bring.

Lord
Brentford was out upon business for the Grand Exposition. The boy named Jack
and the cook raised by kiwi birds had gone home to their respective mothers.
But for Darwin, only the maid both spare and kempt remained to enjoy the day.

They
dined together in the kitchen, pulled crackers and put on paper hats.

‘Why
is it that you never speak?’ asked Darwin.

The
maid got up and brought the Christmas pudding.

Then
she tuned in the brand-new Tesla wireless set and together they listened to
Queen Victoria’s speech.

The
Queen, it appeared, was really rather jolly. She wished her subjects greetings
of the season, then spoke of how she was looking forward to the great Grand
Exposition, and how the British Empire would face the coming century with hope
in its heart, fire in its belly and love for its fellow beings, no matter what
planet they hailed from. She talked a little about what she referred to as
‘hard love’ and how you sometimes had to be cruel to be kind and how, if needs
must, love and kindness sometimes had to be enforced by men-at-arms.

Then
a choir at the palace sang ‘Jerusalem’ and that was the end of the broadcast
for the day.

Darwin
smoked a Christmas cigar, was only a little bit sick and then had an early
night.

As New Year’s
Eve dawned upon Albion, there were great goings-on in Syon House.

‘Help
me do up me tie,’ said Lord Brentford to Darwin, ‘then put me cufflinks in for
me, if you will.’

There
would be several changes of clothes today for Lord Brentford: the morning suit,
the afternoon ‘smart’ and the evening formal with the tails. The maid both
spare and kempt was dressed for the outing, as were the chef and the boy named
Jack, for Lord Brentford felt that his servants should not miss a bit of the
day.

As
Darwin slotted a cufflink with a Masonic motif into his lordship’s celluloid
cuff, he worried for the day ahead. There were so many things that might go
wrong, when they should go wonderfully right.

The
snow was still thick upon the ground and they were all wrapped up in their
warmest of coats as they climbed into an electric landau and were driven off to
the palace.

Crowds were
milling up and down the Mall. The Grand Exposition halls sparkled, lit by more
than one million neon tubes, diamond-hung and crystal-webbed with snow. From
the Mall the crowds caught tantalising glimpses of the wonders that awaited
them within. The burnished brass of mighty engines. Marvellous artworks
gathered from around the globe. Delicious and enchanting smells drifted from
the Jovian food hall, but a single hall remained unit and empty.

Lord
Brentford helped the maid both spare and kempt down from the landau. The boy
named Jack looked up at Buckingham Palace. ‘Well, toast my todger,’ he said to
Darwin. ‘Are we truly going to meet the Queen?’

Darwin
nodded and took Jack by the arm. ‘She’s rather plump and silly,’ he said, ‘but
she does have a lovely monkey maid called Emily.’

Queen Victoria
offered Lord Brentford her gloved hand to be kissed. Lord Brentford did as a
gentleman should and kissed it. Jack was prepared to give that a go, but Queen
Victoria did not acknowledge someone else’s servants. She petted Caruthers, her
augmented kiwi bird.

‘We
have so enjoyed the nothingness,’ she told the noble lord. ‘The more one looks,
the more one sees. We never knew there was so much to nothing.’

Lord
Brentford bowed towards his monarch. ‘So pleased that it amused you, ma’am,’
said he, ‘but now it must be taken over the road to the Hall of Venus.

‘But
one can have it back afterwards, can’t one?’

Lord
Brentford grinned through his teeth at this and offered something that might
have been construed as a kind of a nod.

‘Your
lady from Venus is playing with one’s monkey,’ said Queen Victoria, and she
clapped her hands. ‘Come, Emily,’ she called.

Darwin
looked on eagerly, straightened his shoulders, thrust out his chest and tried
most hard to look noble.

Emily
appeared in the company of Leah the Venusian.

Lord
Brentford gazed longingly at Leah.

Darwin
smiled towards Emily.

Leah,
in her gown like frozen smoke, her high-heeled shoes of sanctity click-clacking
on the tiled floor, smiled warmly on Lord Brentford and gave little Darwin a
wave. Emily fluttered her eyelashes.

Darwin
felt the day was going well so far.

‘We
must take the Sphere of Nothingness to the Venusian Hall,’ Lord Brentford said
to Leah, ‘if you would be so kind.’

‘I
will.’ Leah approached the sphere of nothing at all. ‘Those who wish to, follow
me.

Her
long fingers wove strange patterns in the air and the Sphere of Nothingness
moved weightlessly before her.

Cameron Bell had
moved from his lodgings. He had become wary, lest those he sought to attack
might first attack him. He had put into place during the final few weeks of the
year a number of ‘set pieces’ in the hope that every eventuality might be
catered for when the Final Conflict occurred, but he was far from confident
that he had covered everything.

That
no further plagues had struck at London puzzled Mr Bell. He had expected at the
very least the Pestilence. There should have been animals, too — rats, perhaps.
But whatever the case, he felt certain that a Terrible Darkness would precipitate
the Death of the First-Born. The latter being something that he intended to
avert.

He
had resolved that his strongest strategy lay in the defence of the monarch.
Princess Pamela, the Lady Beast, would certainly seek to destroy her in order
to take her throne.

So
Her Majesty must live at all costs.

Cameron
Bell had met with Winston Churchill, but the young, ambitious gentleman was
having none of Mr Bell’s talk of a coming Apocalypse. He dealt in
straightforward matters, he told the detective in no uncertain terms. Anarchists
were the number-one threat and he had stratagems of his own to prevent them
from attacking the Queen.

Cameron
Bell sought elsewhere for allies. And found them in a most unlikely place.

The Sphere of
Nothingness hung in place within the Hall of Venus.

The
hall itself was otherwise empty, the vast space adding to the drama of the
single exhibit. A mosaic floor had, however, been patterned with swirling
pathways that those who came to view the wonder might follow.

Darwin
and Emily, frolicking together upon the high gantries that ran along the inside
of the great arched roof, did not recognise these pathway patterns to be the
thing they were — a representation of the lines on the Nazca Plains, which some
claimed to be the fingerprint of God.